The Hunters' Feast: Conversations Around the Camp Fire

The grizzly bear is omnivorous. Fish, flesh, and fowl are eaten by him apparently with equal relish. He devours frogs, lizards, and other reptiles.

He is fond of the larvae of insects; these are often found in large quantities adhering to the under sides of decayed logs. To get at them, the grizzly bear will roll over logs of such size and weight, as would try the strength of a yoke of oxen.

He can “root” like a hog, and will often plough up acres of prairie in search of the wapatoo and Indian turnip. Like the black bear, he is fond of sweets; and the wild-berries, consisting of many species of currant, gooseberry, and service berry, are greedily gathered into his capacious maw.

He is too slow of foot to overtake either buffalo, elk, or deer, though he sometimes comes upon these creatures unawares; and he will drag the largest buffalo to the earth, if he can only get his claws upon it.

Not unfrequently he robs the panther of his repast, and will drive a whole pack of wolves from the carrion they have just succeeded in killing.

Several attempts have been made to raise the young grizzlies, but these have all been abortive, the animals proving anything but agreeable pets. As soon as grown to a considerable size, their natural ferocity displays itself, and their dangerous qualities usually lead to the necessity for their destruction.

For a long time the great polar bear has been the most celebrated animal of his kind; and most of the bear-adventures have related to him. Many a wondrous tale of his prowess and ferocity has been told by the whaler and arctic voyager, in which this creature figures as the hero. His fame, however, is likely to be eclipsed by his hitherto less-known congener – the grizzly. The golden lure which has drawn half the world to California, has also been the means of bringing this fierce animal more into notice; for the mountain-valleys of the Sierra Nevada are a favourite range of the species. Besides, numerous “bear scrapes” have occurred to the migrating bands who have crossed the great plains and desert tracts that stretch from the Mississippi to the shores of the South Sea. Hundreds of stories of this animal, more or less true, have of late attained circulation through the columns of the press and the pages of the traveller’s note-book, until the grizzly bear is becoming almost as much an object of interest as the elephant, the hippopotamus, or the king of beasts himself.

Speaking seriously, he is a dangerous assailant. White hunters never attack him unless when mounted and well armed; and the Indians consider the killing a grizzly bear a feat equal to the scalping of a human foe. These never attempt to hunt him, unless when a large party is together; and the hunt is, among some tribes, preceded by a ceremonious feast and a bear-dance.

It is often the lot of the solitary trapper to meet with this four-footed enemy, and the encounter is rated as equal to that with two hostile Indians.

Of course, both Redwood and old Ike had met with more than one “bar scrape,” and the latter was induced to relate one of his best.

“Strengers,” began he, “when you scare up a grizzly, take my advice, and gie ’im a wide berth – that is, unless yur unkimmun well mounted. Ov coorse, ef yur critter kin be depended upon, an’ thur’s no brush to ’tangle him, yur safe enuf; as no grizzly, as ever I seed, kin catch up wi’ a hoss, whur the ground’s open an’ clur. F’r all that, whur the timmer’s clost an’ brushy, an’ the ground o’ that sort whur a hoss mout stummel, it are allers the safest plan to let ole Eph’m slide. I’ve seed a grizzly pull down as good a hoss as ever tracked a parairy, whur the critter hed got bothered in a thicket. The fellur that straddled him only saved himself by hookin’ on to the limb o’ a tree. ’Twant two minnits afore this child kim up – hearin’ the rumpus. I hed good sight o’ the bar, an’ sent a bullet – sixty to the pound – into the varmint’s brain-pan, when he immediately cawalloped over. But ’twur too late to save the hoss. He wur rubbed out. The bar had half skinned him, an’ wur tarrin’ at his guts! Wagh!”

Here the trapper unsheathed his clasp-knife, and having cut a “chunk” from a plug of real “Jeemes’s River,” stuck it into his cheek, and proceeded with his narration.

“I reck’n, I’ve seed a putty consid’able o’ the grizzly bar in my time. Ef them thur chaps who writes about all sorts o’ varmint hed seed as much o’ the grizzly as I hev, they mout a gin a hul book consarnin’ the critter. Ef I hed a plug o’ bacca for every grizzly I’ve rubbed out, it ’ud keep my jaws waggin’ for a good twel’month, I reck’n. Ye-es, strengers, I’ve done some bar-killin’ – I hev that, an’ no mistake! Hain’t I, Mark?

“Wal, I wur a-gwine to tell you ov a sarcumstance that happened to this child about two yeern ago. It wur upon the Platte, atween Chimbly Rock an’ Laramies’.

“I wur engaged as hunter an’ guide to a carryvan o’ emigrant folks that wur on thur way to Oregon.

“Ov coorse I allers kept ahead o’ the carryvan, an’ picked the place for thur camp.

“Wal, one arternoon I hed halted whur I seed some timmer, which ur a scace article about Chimbly Rock. This, thort I, ’ll do for campin’-ground; so I got down, pulled the saddle off o’ my ole mar, an’ staked the critter upon the best patch o’ grass that wur near, intendin’ she shed hev her gut-full afore the camp cattle kim up to bother her.

“I hed shot a black-tail buck, an’ after kindlin’ a fire, I roasted a griskin’ o’ him, an’ ate it.

“Still thur wan’t no sign o’ the carryvan, an’ arter hangin’ the buck out o’ reach o’ the wolves, I tuk up my rifle, an’ set out to rackynoiter the neighbourhood.

“My mar bein’ some’at jaded, I let her graze away, an’ went afoot; an’ that, let me tell you, strengers, ar about the foolichest thing you kin do upon a parairy. I wan’t long afore I proved it; but I’ll kum to that by ’m by.

“Wal, I fust clomb a conside’able hill, that gin me a view beyont. Thur war a good-sized parairy layin’ torst the south an’ west. Thur wur no trees ’ceptin’ an odd cotton-wood hyur an’ thur on the hillside.

“About a mile off I seed a flock of goats – what you’d call antelopes, though goats they ur, as sure as goats is goats.

“Thur waunt no kiver near them – not a stick, for the parairy wur as bar as yur hand; so I seed, at a glimp, it ’ud be no use a tryin’ to approach, unless I tuk some plan to decoy the critters.

“I soon thort o’ a dodge, an’ went back to camp for my blanket, which wur a red Mackinaw. This I knew ’ud be the very thing to fool the goats with, an’ I set out torst them.

“For the fust half-a-mile or so, I carried the blanket under my arm. Then I spread it out, an’ walked behind it until I wur ’ithin three or four hundred yards o’ the animals. I kept my eye on ’em through a hole in the blanket. They wur a-growin’ scary, an’ hed begun to run about in circles; so when I seed this, I knew it wur time to stop.

“Wal, I hunkered down, an’ still keepin’ the blanket spread out afore me, I hung it upon a saplin’ that I had brought from the camp. I then stuck the saplin’ upright in the ground; an’ mind ye, it wan’t so easy to do that, for the parairy wur hard friz, an’ I hed to dig a hole wi’ my knife. Howsomdever, I got the thing rigged at last, an’ the blanket hangin’ up in front kivered my karkidge most complete. I hed nothin’ more to do but wait till the goats shed come ’ithin range o’ my shootin’-iron.

“Wal, that wan’t long. As ye all know, them goats is a mighty curious animal – as curious as weemen is – an arter runnin’ backward an’ forrard a bit, an’ tossin’ up thur heads, an’ sniffin’ the air, one o’ the fattest, a young prong-horn buck, trotted up ’ithin fifty yards o’ me.

“I jest squinted through the sights, an’ afore that goat hed time to wink twice, I hit him plum atween the eyes. Ov coorse he wur throwed in his tracks.

“Now, you’d a-jumped up, an’ frightened the rest away – that’s what you’d a done, strengers. But you see I knowd better. I knowd that so long’s the critters didn’t see my karkidge, they wan’t a-gwine to mind the crack o’ the gun. So I laid still, in behopes to git a wheen more o’ them.

“As I hed calc’lated at fust, they didn’t run away, an’ I slipped in my charge as brisk as possible. But jest as I wur raisin’ to take sight on a doe that hed got near enough, the hull gang tuk scare, an’ broke off as ef a pack of parairy-wolves wur arter ’em.

“I wur clean puzzled at this, for I knowd I hedn’t done anythin’ to frighten ’em, but I wan’t long afore I diskivered the pause o’ thur alarm. Jest then I heerd a snift, like the coughin’ o’ a glandered hoss; an’ turnin’ suddintly round, I spied the biggest bar it hed ever been my luck to set eyes on. He wur comin’ direct torst me, an’ at that minnit wan’t over twenty yards from whur I lay. I knowd at a glimp he wur a grizzly!

“’Tain’t no use to say I wan’t skeart; I wur skeart, an’ mighty bad skeart, I tell ye.

“At fust, I thort o’ jumpin’ to my feet, an’ makin’ tracks; but a minnit o’ reflexshun showed me that ’ud be o’ little use. Thur wur a half o’ mile o’ clur parairy on every side o’ me, an’ I knowd the grizzly laid catch up afore I hed made three hundred yards in any direction. I knowd, too, that ef I started, the varmint ’ud be sartin to foller. It wur plain to see the bar meant mischief; I kud tell that from the glint o’ his eyes.

“Thur wan’t no time to lose in thinkin’ about it. The brute wur still comin’ nearer; but I noticed that he wur a-gwine slower an’ slower, every now an’ agin risin’ to his hind-feet, clawin’ his nose, an’ sniffin’ the air.

“I seed that it wur the red blanket that puzzled him; an’ seein’ this, I crep’ closter behint it, an’ cached as much o’ my karkidge as it ’ud kiver.

“When the bar hed got ’ithin about ten yards o’ the spot, he kim to a full stop, an’ reared up as he hed did several times, with his belly full torst me. The sight wur too much for this niggur, who never afore had been bullied by eyther Injun or bar.

“’Twur a beautiful shot, an’ I kudn’t help tryin’ it, ef ’t hed been my last; so I poked my rifle through the hole in the blanket, an’ sent a bullet atween the varmint’s ribs.

“That wur, perhaps, the foolichest an’ wust shot this child ever made. Hed I not fired it, the bar mout a gone off, feard o’ the blanket; but I did fire, an’ my narves bein’ excited, I made a bad shot.

“I had ta’en sight for the heart, an’ I only hit the varmint’s shoulder.

“Ov coorse, the bar bein’ now wounded, bekim savage, and cared no longer for the blanket. He roared out like a bull, tore at the place whur I hed hit him, an’ then kim on as fast as his four legs ’ud carry him.

“Things looked squally. I throwed away my emp’y gun, an’ drawed my bowie, expectin’ nothin’ else than a regular stand-up tussle wi’ the bar. I knowd it wur no use turnin’ tail now; so I braced myself up for a desp’rate fight.

“But jest as the bar hed got ’ithin ten feet o’ me, an idee suddintly kim into my head. I hed been to Santa Fé, among them yaller-hided Mexikins, whur I hed seed two or three bull-fights. I hed seed them mattydoors fling thur red cloaks over a bull’s head, jest when you’d a thort they wur a-gwine to be gored to pieces on the fierce critter’s horns.

“Jest then, I remembered thur trick; an’ afore the bar cud close on me, I grabbed the blanket, spreadin’ it out as I tuk holt.

“Strangers, that wur a blanket an’ no mistake! It wur as fine a five-point Mackinaw as ever kivered the hump-ribs o’ a nor’-west trader. I used to wear it Mexikin-fashun when it rained; an’ in coorse, for that purpose, thur wur a hole in the middle to pass the head through.

“Wal, jest as the bar sprung at me, I flopped the blanket straight in his face. I seed his snout a passin’ through the hole, but I seed no more; for I feeled the critter’s claws touchin’ me, an’ I let go.

“Now, thunk I, wur my time for a run. The blanket mout blin’ him a leetle, an’ I mout git some start.

“With this thort, I glid past the animal’s rump, an’ struck out over the parairy.

“The direction happened to be that that led torst the camp, half a mile off; but thur wur a tree nearer, on the side o’ the hill. Ef I kud reach that, I knowd I ’ud be safe enuf, as the grizzly bar it don’t climb.

“For the fust hundred yards I never looked round; then I only squinted back, runnin’ all the while.

“I kud jest see that the bar appeared to be still a tossin’ the blanket, and not fur from whur we hed parted kumpny.

“I thort this some’at odd; but I didn’t stay to see what it meant till I hed put another hundred yards atween us. Then I half turned, an’ tuk a good look; an’ if you believe me, strangers, the sight I seed thur ’ud a made a Mormon larf. Although jest one minnit afore, I wur putty nigh skeart out o’ my seven senses, that sight made me larf till I wur like to bring on a colic.

“Thur wur the bar wi’ his head right a-through the blanket. One minnit, he ’ud rear up on his hind-feet, an’ then the thing hung roun’ him like a Mexikin greaser. The next minnit, he ’ud be down on all-fours, an’ tryin’ to foller me; an’ then the Mackinaw ’ud trip him up, an’ over he ’ud whammel, and kick to get free – all the while routin’ like a mad buffalo. Jehosophat! it wur the funniest sight this child ever seed. Wagh!

“Wal, I watched the game awhile – only a leetle while; for I knowd that if the bar could git clur o’ the rag, he mout still overtake me, an’ drive me to the tree. That I didn’t wan’t, eyther, so I tuk to my heels agin’ and soon reached camp.

“Thur I saddled my mar, an’ then rid back to git my gun, an’, perhaps, to give ole Eph’m a fresh taste o’ lead.

“When I clomb the hill agin, the bar wur still out on the parairy, an’ I cud see that the blanket wur a-hanging around ’im. Howsomdever, he wur makin’ off torst the hills, thinkin’, maybe, he’d hed enuf o’ my kumpny.

“I wan’t a-gwine to let ’im off so easy, for the skear he hed ’gin me; besides, he wur traillin’ my Mackinaw along wi’ ’im. So I galluped to whur my gun lay, an’ havin’ rammed home a ball, I then galluped arter ole grizzly.

“I soon overhauled him, an’ he turned on me as savagerous as ever. But this time, feeling secure on the mar’s back, my narves wur steadier; an’ I shot the bar plum through the skull, which throwed him in his tracks wi’ the blanket wropped about ’im.

“But sich a blanket as that wur then – ay, sich a blanket! I never seed sich a blanket! Thur wunt a square foot o’ it that wan’t torn to raggles. Ah, strangers, you don’t know what it are to lose a five-point Mackinaw; no, that you don’t. Cuss the bar!”

Chapter Twenty Six.

A Battle with Grizzly Bears

As adventure with grizzly bears which had befallen the “captain” was next related. He had been travelling with a strange party – the “scalp-hunters,” – in the mountains near Santa Fé, when they were overtaken by a sudden and heavy fall of snow that rendered farther progress impossible. The “canon,” a deep valley in which they had encamped, was difficult to get through at any time, but now the path, on account of the deep soft snow, was rendered impassable. When morning broke they found themselves fairly “in the trap.”

“Above and below, the valley was choked up with snow five fathoms deep. Vast fissures —barrancas– were filled with the drift; and it was perilous to attempt penetrating in either direction. Two men had already disappeared.

“On each side of our camp rose the walls of the canon, almost vertical, to the height of a hundred feet. These we might have climbed had the weather been soft, for the rock was a trap formation, and offered numerous seams and ledges; but now there was a coating of ice and snow upon them that rendered the ascent impossible. The ground had been frozen hard before the storm came on, although it was now freezing no longer, and the snow would not bear our weight. All our efforts to get out of the valley proved idle; and we gave them over, yielding ourselves, in a kind of reckless despair, to wait for – we scarce knew what.

“For three days we sat shivering around the fires, now and then casting looks of gloomy inquiry around the sky. The same dull grey for an answer, mottled with flakes slanting earthward, for it still continued to know. Not a bright spot cheered the aching eye.

“The little platform on which we rested – a space of two or three acres – was still free from the snow-drift, on account of its exposure to the wind. Straggling pines, stunted and leafless, grew over its surface, in all about fifty or sixty trees. From these we obtained our fires; but what were fires when we had no meat to cook upon them!

“We were now in the third day without food! Without food, though not absolutely without eating – the men had bolted their gun-covers and the cat-skin flaps of their bullet-pouches, and were now seen – the last shift but one – stripping the parflèche from the soles of their moccasins!

“The women, wrapped in their tilmas, nestled closely in the embrace of father, brother, husband, and lover; for all these affections were present. The last string of tasajo, hitherto economised for their sake, had been parcelled out to them in the morning. That was gone, and whence was their next morsel to come? At long intervals, ‘Ay da mi! Dios de mi alma!’ were heard only in low murmurs, as some colder blast swept down the canon. In the faces of those beautiful creatures might be read that uncomplaining patience – that high endurance – so characteristic of the Hispano-Mexican women.

“Even the stern men around them bore up with less fortitude. Rude oaths were muttered from time to time, and teeth ground together, with that strange wild look that heralds insanity. Once or twice I fancied that I observed a look of still stranger, still wilder expression, when the black ring forms around the eye – when the muscles twitch and quiver along gaunt, famished jaws – when men gaze guilty-like at each other. O God! it was fearful! The half-robber discipline, voluntary at the best, had vanished under the levelling-rod of a common suffering, and I trembled to think —

“‘It clars a leetle, out tharawa!’

“It was the voice of the trapper, Garey, who had risen and stood pointing toward the East.

“In an instant we were all upon our feet, looking in the direction, indicated. Sure enough, there was a break in the lead-coloured sky – a yellowish streak, that widened out as we continued gazing – the flakes fell lighter and thinner, and in two hours more it had ceased snowing altogether.

“Half-a-dozen of us, shouldering our rifles, struck down the valley. We would make one more attempt to trample a road through the drift. It was a vain one. The snow was over our heads, and after struggling for two hours, we had not gained above two hundred yards. Here we caught a glimpse of what lay before us. As far as the eye could reach, it rested upon the same deep impassable masses. Despair and hunger paralysed our exertions, and, dropping off one by one, we returned to the camp. We fell down around the fires in sullen silence. Garey continued pacing back and forth, now glancing up at the sky, and at times kneeling down, and running his hand over the surface of the snow. At length he approached the fire, and in his slow, drawling manner, remarked —

“‘It’s a-gwine to friz, I reckin.’

“‘Well! and if it does?’ asked one of his comrades, without caring for an answer to the question.

“‘Wal, an iv it does,’ repeated the trapper, ‘we’ll walk out o’ this hyar jug afore sun-up, an’ upon a good hard trail too.’

“The expression of every face was changed, as if by magic. Several leaped to their feet. Godé, the Canadian, skilled in snow-craft, ran to a bank, and drawing his hand along the combing, shouted back —

“‘C’est vrai; il gèle; il gèle!’

“A cold wind soon after set in, and, cheered by the brightening prospect, we began to think of the fires, that, during our late moments of reckless indifference, had been almost suffered to burn out. The Delawares, seizing their tomahawks, commenced hacking at the pines, while others dragged forward the fallen trees, lopping off their branches with the keen scalping-knife.

“At this moment a peculiar cry attracted our attention, and, looking around, we perceived one of the Indians drop suddenly upon his knees, striking the ground with his hatchet.

“‘What is it? what is it?’ shouted several voices, in almost as many languages.

“‘Yam-yam! yam-yam!’ replied the Indian, still digging at the frozen ground.

“‘The Injun’s right; it’s man-root!’ said Garey, picking up some leaves which the Delaware had chopped off.

“I recognised a plant well-known to the mountain-men – a rare, but wonderful convolvulus, the Iponea leptophylla. The name of ‘man-root’ is given to it by the hunters from the similarity of its root in shape, and sometimes in size, to the body of a man. It is esculent, and serves to sustain human life.

“In an instant, half-a-dozen men were upon their knees, chipping and hacking the hard clay, but their hatchets glinted off as from the surface of a rock.

“‘Look hyar!’ cried Garey; ‘ye’re only spoilin’ yer tools. Cut down a wheen o’ these pine saplin’s, and make a fire over him!’

“The hint was instantly followed, and in a few minutes a dozen pieces of pine were piled upon the spot, and set on fire.

“We stood around the burning branches with eager anticipation. Should the root prove a ‘full-grown man,’ it would make a supper for our whole party; and with the cheering idea of supper, jokes were ventured upon – the first we had heard for some time – the hunters tickled with the novelty of unearthing the ‘old man’ ready roasted, and speculating whether he would prove a ‘fat old hoss.’

“A hollow crack sounded from above, like the breaking of a dead tree. We looked up. A large object – an animal – was whirling outward and downward from a ledge that projected half-way up the cliff. In an instant it struck the earth, head foremost, with a loud ‘bump,’ and, bounding to the height of several feet, came back with a somersault on its legs, and stood firmly.

“An involuntary ‘hurrah!’ broke from the hunters, who all recognised, at a glance, the ‘Carnero cimmaron,’ or ‘bighorn.’ He had cleared the precipice at two leaps, alighting each time on his huge crescent-shaped horns.

“For a moment, both parties – hunters and game – seemed equally taken by surprise, and stood eyeing each other in mute wonder. It was but for a moment. The men made a rush for their rifles, and the animal, recovering from his trance of astonishment, tossed back his horns, and bounded across the platform. In a dozen springs he had readied the selvedge of the snow, and plunged into its yielding bank; but, at the same instant, several rifles cracked, and the white wreath was crimsoned behind him. He still kept on, however, leaning and breaking through the drift.

“We struck into his track, and followed with the eagerness of hungry wolves. We could tell by the numerous goûts that he was shedding his life-blood, and about fifty paces farther on we found him dead.

“A shout apprised our companions of our success, and we had commenced dragging back the prize, when wild cries reached us from the platform, – the yells of men, the screams of women, mingled with oaths and exclamations of terror!

“We ran on towards the entrance of the track. On reaching it, a sight was before us that caused the stoutest to tremble. Hunters, Indians, and women were running to and fro in frantic confusion, uttering their varied cries, and pointing upward. We looked in that direction – a row of fearful objects stood upon the brow of the cliff. We knew our enemy at a glance, – the dreaded monsters of the mountains – the grizzly bears!

“There were; five of them – five in sight – there might be others in the background. Five were enough to destroy our whole party, caged as we were, and weakened by famine.

“They had reached the cliff in chase of the cimmaron, and hunger and disappointment were visible in their horrid aspects. Two of them had already crawled close to the scarp, and were pawing over and snuffing the air, as if searching for a place to descend. The other three reared themselves up on their hams, and commenced manoeuvring with their forearms, in a human-like and comical pantomime!

“We were in no condition to relish this amusement. Every man hastened to arm himself, those who had emptied their rifles hurriedly re-loading them.