Illustrative Anecdotes of the Animal Kingdom

by Samuel G. Goodrich

"As soon as a bear is killed, a hunter puts into his mouth a lighted pipe of tobacco, and, blowing into it, fills the throat with the smoke, conjuring the spirit of the animal not to resent what they are about to do to its body, or to render their future chases unsuccessful. As the beast makes no reply, they cut out the string of the tongue, and throw it into the fire. If it crackle and shrivel up, which it is almost sure to do, they accept this as a good omen; if not, they consider that the spirit of the beast is not appeased, and that the chase of the next year will be unfortunate."

When our forefathers first settled in America, bears were common in all parts of the country along the Atlantic. Many adventures with them took place, some of which are recorded in the histories of the times. The following is said to have occurred at a later period:—

Some years since, when the western part of New York was in a state of nature, and wolves and bears were not afraid of being seen, some enterprising pilgrim had erected, and put in operation, a sawmill, on the banks of the Genesee. One day, as he was sitting on the log, eating his bread and cheese, a large, black bear came from the woods towards the mill. The man, leaving his luncheon on the log, made a spring, and seated himself on a beam above; when the bear, mounting the log, sat down with his rump towards the saw, which was in operation, and commenced satisfying his appetite on the man's dinner. After a little while, the saw progressed enough to interfere with the hair on bruin's back, and he hitched along a little, and kept on eating. Again the saw came up, and scratched a little flesh. The bear then whirled about, and, throwing his paws around the saw, held on, till he was mangled through and through, when he rolled off, fell through into the flood, and bled to death.

The Grisly Bear.—This creature, which is peculiar to North America, is, perhaps, the most formidable of the bruin family in magnitude and ferocity. He averages twice the bulk of the black bear, to which, however, he bears some resemblance in his slightly elevated forehead, and narrow, flattened, elongated muzzle. His canine teeth are of great size and power. The feet are enormously large—the breadth of the fore foot exceeding nine inches, and the length of the hind foot, exclusive of the talons, being eleven inches and three quarters, and its breadth seven inches. The talons sometimes measure more than six inches. He is, accordingly, admirably adapted for digging up the ground, but is unable to climb trees, in which latter respect he differs wholly from most other species. The color of his hair varies to almost an indefinite extent, between all the intermediate shades of a light gray and a black brown; the latter tinge, however, being that which predominates. It is always in some degree grizzled, by intermixture of grayish hairs. The hair itself is, in general, longer, finer, and more exuberant, than that of the black bear.

The neighborhood of the Rocky Mountains is one of the principal haunts of this animal. There, amidst wooded plains, and tangled copses of bough and underwood, he reigns as much the monarch as the lion is of the sandy wastes of Africa. Even the bison cannot withstand his attacks. Such is his muscular strength, that he will drag the ponderous carcass of the animal to a convenient spot, where he digs a pit for its reception. The Indians regard him with the utmost terror. His extreme tenacity of life renders him still more dangerous; for he can endure repeated wounds which would be instantaneously mortal to other beasts, and, in that state, can rapidly pursue his enemy; so that the hunter who fails to shoot him through the brain is placed in a most perilous situation.

One evening, the men in the hindmost of one of Lewis and Clark's canoes perceived one of these bears lying in the open ground, about three hundred paces from the river; and six of them, who were all good hunters, went to attack him. Concealing themselves by a small eminence, they were able to approach within forty paces unperceived; four of the hunters now fired, and each lodged a ball in his body, two of which passed directly through the lungs. The bear sprang up, and ran furiously, with open mouth, upon them; two of the hunters, who had reserved their fire, gave him two additional wounds, and one, breaking his shoulder-blade, somewhat retarded his motions. Before they could again load their guns, he came so close on them, that they were obliged to run towards the river, and before they had gained it, the bear had almost overtaken them. Two men jumped into the canoe; the other four separated, and, concealing themselves among the willows, fired as fast as they could load their pieces. Several times the bear was struck, but each shot seemed only to direct his fury towards the hunters; at last he pursued them so closely that they threw aside their guns and pouches, and jumped from a perpendicular bank, twenty feet high, into the river. The bear sprang after them, and was very near the hindmost man, when one of the hunters on the shore shot him through the head, and finally killed him. When they dragged him on shore, they found that eight balls had passed through his body in different directions.

Richardson relates the following story of a grisly bear. A party of voyagers, who had been employed all day in tracking a canoe up the Saskatchewan, had seated themselves, in the twilight, by a fire, and were busy in preparing their supper, when a large grisly bear sprang over their canoe that was behind them, and, seizing one of the party by the shoulder, carried him off. The rest fled in terror, with the exception of a man named Bourasso, who, grasping his gun, followed the bear as it was retreating leisurely with its prey. He called to his unfortunate comrade that he was afraid of hitting him if he fired at the bear; but the latter entreated him to fire immediately, as the animal was squeezing him to death. On this he took a deliberate aim, and discharged his piece into the body of the bear, which instantly dropped its prey to pursue Bourasso. He escaped with difficulty, and the bear retreated to a thicket, where it is supposed to have died. The man who was rescued had his arm fractured, and was otherwise severely bitten by the bear, but finally recovered.

The White Bear.—The polar bear is considerably larger than the brown or black bear, and is covered with a long, thick fur, of a bright white beneath and of a yellowish tinge above. Besides the difference in external appearance, there is a remarkable distinction between the brown and the polar bears; for the former prefers, as his abode, the wooded summits of alpine regions, feeding principally on roots and vegetables; while the latter fixes his residence on the sea-coast, or on an iceberg, and seems to delight in the stormy and inhospitable precincts of the arctic circle, where vegetation is scarcely known to exist, feeding entirely on animal matter. But it cannot be regarded as a predatory quadruped, for it seems to prefer dead to living animal food, its principal subsistence being the floating carcasses of whales. It also preys upon seals, which it catches with much keenness and certainty, as they ascend to the surface of the ocean to breathe; and sometimes fish are caught by them, when they enter shoals or gulfs. They move with great dexterity in the water, and capture their prey with apparent ease. It is only when these bears quit their winter quarters, and especially when the female has to protect her young, that they manifest great ferocity.

While the Carcass, one of the ships of Captain Phipps's voyage of discovery to the north pole, was locked in the ice, early one morning the man at the mast-head gave notice that three bears were making their way very fast over the Frozen Ocean, and were directing their course towards the ship. They had no doubt been invited by the scent of some blubber of a sea-horse, which the crew had killed a few days before, and which, having been set on fire, was burning on the ice at the time of their approach. They proved to be a she-bear and her two cubs; but the cubs were nearly as large as the dam. They ran eagerly to the fire, and drew out from the flames part of the flesh of the sea-horse that remained unconsumed, and ate it voraciously.

The crew of the ship threw great lumps of the flesh they had still left upon the ice, which the old bear fetched away singly, laying every piece before the cubs as she brought it, and, dividing it, gave each a share, reserving but a small portion to herself. As she was fetching away the last piece, they levelled their muskets at the cubs, and shot them both dead, at the same time wounding the dam in her retreat, but not mortally. It would have drawn tears of pity from any but the most unfeeling, to have marked the affectionate concern expressed by this poor animal, in the dying moments of her expiring young. Though she was sorely wounded, and could but just crawl to the place where they lay, she carried the lump of flesh she had just fetched away, as she had done the others, tore it in pieces, and laid it down before them. When she saw they refused to eat, she laid her paws first upon the one, then upon the other, and endeavored to raise them up, making, at the same time, the most pitiable moans.