Sportsman's Quest

As a former game warden and bear control officer, I have to admit a fascination with bears, and bear stories.

I've been told of a young bear that got into trouble for wandering into a ladies backyard and sniffing her back as she lay sunbathing in her bikini. To say she was surprised, or excited, when she called for help would be an understatement.

Having also worked in far northern Indian villages, I'm also familiar with bear legends ranging from Sasquatch-like people to bear ancestor spirits.

All are based on the unique, interesting bear behaviors, their often human-like traits and their apparent intellectual capacity -- bears are smart critters. They share and compete in a domain in which man is, usually, the dominant species.

I've hunted them in alpine areas, in forest, on the coast and even in towns when they've gotten too close to their human neighbors. These contacts have resulted in more tragedies than I care to remember at this moment, usually with young children or unarmed backpackers.

Bears are capable adversaries unlike any other North American animal, with the possible exception of the Mountain Lion, which has also occasionally had an appetite for human flesh. The hunted sometimes becomes the hunter.

It is those factors which make bear hunting unique and provides the backdrop to my friend Roy Keefer's Canadian bear hunt story.

You may remember from previous stories, that Roy hunts only with a bow and is able to travel in pursuit of his passion to hunt with "those pointy little sticks."

The Bear's Revenge

From my tree stand seat I could see a mammoth black bear walking toward the bait I had been watching for several hours. Slowly he made his way until he was within shooting range. Concentrating my focus on the target area behind his left front shoulder I drew my bow.

Just as I began to put pressure on the release, I heard the sound of fabric tearing and I slumped forward to my left, nearly falling out of the tree. The cloth seat in the stand had deteriorated from weather and age and nearly tore in half. The release went off and I heard a loud thud as the arrow struck something. The big bear had departed and I saw my arrow sticking in a log near where he had stood.

After descending from my perch, I examined the arrow and saw faint marks of blood and a handful of hair on the ground. I searched the area thoroughly, but could not find any more blood. My near fall from the tree had caused me to shoot low and clip some belly hairs from the bear. Needless to say, I was thankful I had been wearing a safety belt.

Once again I climbed into the tree, standing this time since I no longer had a seat. An hour later, the same large bear, "Big Yogi" as we came to call him, appeared from the direction he had fled and settled down 40 yards away.

He lay in the snow-covered brush, offering no shot, and finally, half an hour later, he lumbered off. I went to his bed and found a single drop of blood, confirming my suspicions that the wound was not serious.

I was hunting in the far reaches of northwest Saskatchewan. The camp is located near the end of the world, an 11-hour drive from Saskatoon. The last 180 miles of the trip is a dirt road that ends at the camp. It is the most remote camp I've been to that does not require a fly-in.

I was visited by the big bear and five others during the first day of my hunt. That evening we replayed the day's events around the supper table. All of the other hunters saw bears the first day and one hunter bagged an 18-inch brown color-phased bear.

The guide, who was part Indian, told us about Indian culture, including their love and appreciation for all things, living and dead. He cast the wildlife in a mystical sense that almost made them human-like with characteristics such as revenge and anger and, if so, I hoped they might also have short memories. Hopefully Big Yogi would forget what I had tried to do to him that day.

One of the bears I saw on the first day had a white "V" under its chin. It had a beautiful hide, but offered no shooting opportunities. On the second day, I again had six bears come to the bait. Some came, ate, left and returned later. As evening began to fall, the bear with the "V" returned and went to the bait.

After watching the bear for over half an hour, I decided, if the shot presented itself, I would take it. It continued to feed and finally walked near my stand and stood sideways looking in my direction.

I drew my bow, put my sight pin behind the shoulder and sent the arrow on its way. The arrow cut through the bear and struck the ground. It left on a dead run, disappearing into the bush.

The guide refused to track the wounded bear at night, so we waited until the next morning to begin the backtracking. The blood trail was poor and I was beginning to have serious doubts about my shooting ability. After an hour, the guide found a drop of blood about 100 yards from my tree stand. We began making circles looking for more blood when he froze. "There's Big Yogi," he whispered. I saw a large dark form 40 yards ahead of us.

The guide moved slightly to the side and whispered again, "He's with another bear. He's eating your bear!" We moved ahead, I felt under-armed with only my bow, but was comforted by the presence of the guide's shotgun. As we advanced the big bear left and we saw the damage. He had taken large chunks from one side of my bear.

Big Yogi stood in the brush not 50 yards from us as we looked at the damage. "That bear must weigh over 400 pounds," the guide offered. I agreed it was huge.

As we skinned my bear, talking all the while, Big Yogi loomed in the bush watching us. Not once did he make a sound or threaten us. I commented, "He won't bother us. I guess he got his revenge and figures he's evened the score."

Postscript

We're hearing of an increasing number of hunters putting the rifle aside and becoming dedicated archers. They range from the young hunters like Mallory Genet Garcia, to old timers like my friend Fred Schmidt, both of whom you have heard stories of in this column.

It's not by accident. With greater numbers of sportsmen in the field, decreased game and more limited hunting opportunities, bow hunting offers greater possibilities of having the opportunity to draw tags and hunt with less competition.

Archery technology has also increased, which allows greater proficiency to those with less physical strength, or time to practice the necessary skills. It has, however, not decreased the necessity of stealth and hunting skills.

Archery hunting is one of the fastest growing segments of the outdoor sports industry. For more information, Bass Pro Shops are excellent places to start, as are one of the numerous bow hunting magazines.