Chapter 49 - The Grand Bear Hunt by Mayne Reid
A Fur-Trader’s Fort
Having settled their accounts with Bruin of the Barren Grounds, our travellers proceeded down the Mackenzie river to the Hudson’s Bay post of Fort Simpson. Thence they ascended a large tributary of the Mackenzie, known as the “River of the Mountains,”—or as the Canadian voyagers call it, Rivière aux Liards. This large stream has its sources far beyond the highest peaks of the Rocky Mountains: thus exhibiting the curious phenomenon of a river, breaking through a chain of mountains in a transverse direction; though the same occurs in several other parts of the Rocky Mountain range, and also in the Andes of South America. On the Rivière aux Liards the Hudson’s Bay Company have several posts—as Forts Simpson, Liard, and Halkett—the last-mentioned being far up among the mountains. Westward again, upon the Pacific side, they have other trading stations—the most important of which is that of Pellyss Banks, situated at the junction of Lewis and Pelly rivers. These rivers, after joining, run into the Pacific, not far from Mount Saint Elios—long noted as a landmark to the navigators of the North Pacific ocean.
From Fort Halkett, a route has been established to the post at Pelly’s Banks by means of Dease’s river—which is one of the effluents of the Rivière aux Liards—and partly by canoe navigation and partly by “portage;” the continent can be crossed in this northern latitude. From Pelly’s Banks to the Pacific coast the route is still easier—for not only do the Russians visit these parts, but there are native Indian traders who go twice every year from Pelly’s Banks to Sitka—the entrepôt of the Russian Fur Company—and the Lynn channel, a little to the north of Sitka, is also visited by the steamers of the Hudson’s Bay Company itself.
Our travellers would therefore have no difficulty in reaching Sitka; and thence crossing to the peninsula of Kamschatka, on the Asiatic coast. On their way over the Rocky Mountains, they would be certain to fall in with the grizzly; and in the countries lying along the Pacific, they could obtain that variety of the ursus americanus, known as the “cinnamon bear”—for it is to the west of the Rocky Mountains—in California, Oregon, British Columbia, and Russian America—that this spice-coloured species is most frequently met with.
A party of fur-traders and trappers were just starting from Fort Simpson to carry supplies up to the posts of Liard and Halkett; and along with them our travellers went.
On reaching the last-named station, they came to a halt, for the purpose of hunting the grizzly.
They were not long in starting their game—for this fierce monster of the mountains is far from being a scarce animal. In fact, in those districts which they choose for their “beat,” the grizzly bears are more numerous than most other quadrupeds; and not unfrequently half a dozen or more of them may be seen together. It is not that they are gregarious; but simply, that, being in considerable numbers in a particular neighbourhood, accident thus brings them together. To see troops of four associating together is very common; but these are merely the members of one family—male, female, and yearling cubs—for two is the number of the progeny—the grizzly bear in this respect resembling his congener of the ursus maritimus, and differing as essentially from the black and brown bears—with whom three is the usual number of cubs at a birth.
There are good reasons why the grizzly bears are not in much danger of being exterminated. In the first place, their flesh is of inferior quality. Even the Indians will not eat it; while they relish that of the black species. Secondly, their robe is of scarce any value, and fetches but a trifling price in the fur-market. Thirdly—and perhaps the most powerful reason of all—is that the hunter cares not to risk his life in an encounter with these animals, knowing that there is no adequate reward for such risk. For this reason “Old Ephraim”—as the trappers jocosely style the grizzly—is usually permitted to go his way without molestation, and, therefore, instead of being thinned off by an exterminating chase—such as is pursued against the buffalo, or even the black bear, whose robe is marketable—the grizzly maintains his numerical strength in most places where he is found.
At Fort Halkett—in consequence of a scarcity of hands, and the great pressure of business, in forwarding the brigade onward to the Pelly Station—our young hunters were unable to obtain a guide; and therefore started out for the chase alone—Pouchskin, of course, being one of the party.
The trading post of Fort Halkett being situated in the midst of the wildest region—without any cultivated ground or other settlement around it—they would not have far to go before finding a grizzly. Indeed, they were as likely to meet with one within sight of the Port as anywhere else; and from the moment of passing through the gate of the stockade they were on the lookout.
They had not the good fortune, however, to meet with one so very easily, for although they came upon the traces of bears, and saw numerous signs of them, they could not set eyes upon them; and returned from their first excursion rather disheartened with their day’s work.
In one thing, however, they had their reward. They had succeeded in shooting one of the rarest animals of America, a creature only met with in the more northern districts of the Rocky Mountains—that is, the “Rocky Mountain goat” (capra americana). This rare quadruped—whose long, snow-white, silky hair renders it one of the most attractive of animals—is a true wild goat; and the only species of the genus indigenous to America. It is about the size of the common domestic breeds, and horned as they; but the shining hair over its flanks and body is frequently so long as to hang down almost to its hoofs—giving the animal the appearance of having a much heavier body and much shorter legs than it really has. Like the ibex of Europe, it is only met with on the loftiest summits of the mountains, upon peaks and cliffs inaccessible to almost every other quadruped—the mountain sheep alone excepted. It is much shyer than the latter, and far more difficult of approach—the consequence being, that its beautiful skin, though highly prized, and commanding a good price, is but rarely obtained, even by the most expert hunters.
Having succeeded in bringing down one of these precious animals, our young hunters were satisfied with their day’s work—almost as well as if it had been a grizzly they had killed.
On their second day’s excursion, however, this feat was also accomplished—as we shall now proceed to relate.