Sometimes a single bite causes death.One of the most successful bear hunters I ever knew,an old fellow whose real name I never heard as he was always called Old Ike,was killed in this way in the spring or early summer of 1886on one of the head-waters of the Salmon.He was a very good shot,had killed nearly a hundred bears with the rifle,and,although often charged,had never met with any accident,so that he had grown somewhat careless.On the day in question he had met a couple of mining prospectors and was travelling with them,when a grisly crossed his path.The old hunter immediately ran after it,rapidly gaining,as the bear did not hurry when it saw itself pursued,but slouched slowly forwards,occasionally turning its head to grin and growl.It soon went into a dense grove of young spruce,and as the hunter reached the edge it charged fiercely out.He fired one hasty shot,evidently wounding the animal,but not seriously enough to stop or cripple it;and as his two companions ran forward they saw the bear seize him with its wide-spread jaws,forcing him to the ground.They shouted and fired,and the beast abandoned the fallen man on the instant and sullenly retreated into the spruce thicket,whither they dared not follow it.Their friend was at his last gasp;for the whole side of the chest had been crushed in by the one bite,the lungs showing between the rent ribs.
Very often,however,a bear does not kill a man by one bite,but after throwing him lies on him,biting him to death.Usually,if no assistance is at hand,such a man is doomed;although if he pretends to be dead,and has the nerve to lie quiet under very rough treatment,it is just possible that the bear may leave him alive,perhaps after half burying what it believes to be the body.In a very few exceptional instances men of extraordinary prowess with the knife have succeeded in beating off a bear,and even in mortally wounding it,but in most cases a single-handed struggle,at close quarters,with a grisly bent on mischief,means death.
Occasionally the bear,although vicious,is also frightened,and passes on after giving one or two bites;and frequently a man who is knocked down is rescued by his friends before he is killed,the big beast mayhap using his weapons with clumsiness.So a bear may kill a foe with a single blow of its mighty fore-arm,either crushing in the head or chest by sheer force of sinew,or else tearing open the body with its formidable claws;and so on the other hand he may,and often does,merely disfigure or maim the foe by a hurried stroke.Hence it is common to see men who have escaped the clutches of a grisly,but only at the cost of features marred beyond recognition,or a body rendered almost helpless for life.Almost every old resident of western Montana or northern Idaho has known two or three unfortunates who have suffered in this manner.I have myself met one such man in Helena,and another in Missoula;both were living at least as late as 1889,the date at which I last saw them.One had been partially scalped by a bear's teeth;the animal was very old and so the fangs did not enter the skull.The other had been bitten across the face,and the wounds never entirely healed,so that his disfigured visage was hideous to behold.
Most of these accidents occur in following a wounded or worried bear into thick cover;and under such circumstances an animal apparently hopelessly disabled,or in the death throes,may with a last effort kill one or more of its assailants.In 1874my wife's uncle,Captain Alexander Moore,U.S.A.,and my friend Captain Bates,with some men of the 2nd and 3rd Cavalry,were scouting in Wyoming,near the Freezeout Mountains.One morning they roused a bear in the open prairie and followed it at full speed as it ran towards a small creek.
At one spot in the creek beavers had built a dam,and as usual in such places there was a thick growth of bushes and willow saplings.Just as the bear reached the edge of this little jungle it was struck by several balls,both of its forelegs being broken.Nevertheless,it managed to shove itself forward on its hind-legs,and partly rolled,partly pushed itself into the thicket,the bushes though low being so dense that its body was at once completely hidden.The thicket was a mere patch of brush,not twenty yards across in any direction.The leading troopers reached the edge almost as the bear tumbled in.One of them,a tall and powerful man named Miller,instantly dismounted and prepared to force his way in among the dwarfed willows,which were but breast-high.Among the men who had ridden up were Moore and Bates,and also the two famous scouts,Buffalo Bill--long a companion of Captain Moore,--and California Joe,Custer's faithful follower.
California Joe had spent almost all his life on the plains and in the mountains,as a hunter and Indian fighter;and when he saw the trooper about to rush into the thicket he called out to him not to do so,warning him of the danger.But the man was a very reckless fellow and he answered by jeering at the old hunter for his over-caution in being afraid of a crippled bear.California Joe made no further effort to dissuade him,remarking quietly:"Very well,sonny,go in;it's your own affair."Miller then leaped off the bank on which they stood and strode into the thicket,holding his rifle at the port.Hardly had he taken three steps when the bear rose in front of him,roaring with rage and pain.It was so close that the man had no chance to fire.Its fore-arms hung useless and as it reared unsteadily on its hind-legs,lunging forward at him,he seized it by the ears and strove to hold it back.His strength was very great,and he actually kept the huge head from his face and braced himself so that he was not overthrown;but the bear twisted its muzzle from side to side,biting and tearing the man's arms and shoulders.Another soldier jumping down slew the beast with a single bullet,and rescued his comrade;but though alive he was too badly hurt to recover and died after reaching the hospital.
