We Stalked a Cannibal Brown Bear That Was Trying to Kill a Cub

This story, “Stalk for a Cannibal Brown,” appeared within the July 1977 difficulty of Out of doors Life. Infanticide amongst brown and grizzly bears just isn’t uncommon, as we’ve previously written.

I swept the massive 8 x 56 Zeiss binoculars slowly over the hills, alongside the snow-covered mountaintops, and down the veining ridges on Alaska’s Kodiak Island. Then I lowered the glasses and squinted into the evident rays of the Might solar hoping to see some signal of life in the identical huge space. I used to be in search of a bear. My consumer, Siegfried Kube (cou-ba), and his spouse Brigette from Heidelberg, West Germany, sat within the alpine meadow close by scanning the nation as intently as I.

For 2 days we had tramped the hills and boated the shoreline of Uyak Bay on the western facet of Kodiak, glassing one doubtless space after one other. We had seen just one small sow and her two cubs. Each children had gentle cream-colored collars, attribute of many new brown bear cubs. The scenic fantastic thing about the hills, nevertheless, did a lot to pacify us in the course of the lengthy days. A 15-hour day within the discipline throughout a spring hunt just isn’t unusual at the moment of 12 months due to the quickly growing daylight as summer time attracts close to.

The third day discovered us on a excessive mossy knob that ignored our major camp to the nor th. South of us a diffusion of mountains and attracts fingered their means towards the twisting Karluk River, one of many most interesting sportfishing rivers within the state.

Siegfried is the 36-year-old proprietor and supervisor of a number of photographic crops in West Germany, and his spouse is a companion within the enterprise. Each experi­enced hunters, that they had booked with our camp early in 1973 for a hunt in Might, 1974, on what ought to have been certainly one of two bear hunts for them on the North American continent. Nevertheless, their polar bear hunt within the Northwest Territories, which was to precede the brown-bear hunt with me, was can­celled when a French hunter, all guides, and a canine crew have been misplaced on the ice pack. The our bodies have been by no means discovered. Polar bear season was formally closed for the 12 months. The Kubes wound up in my camp early, un­glad however understanding, and with some misgivings about bear looking basically.

I’m a full-time looking information on Kodiak, and I information and outfit completely for brown-bear hunters from three camps on the island in the course of the spring and fall sea­sons. My camp lies throughout the sure­aries of an historic salmon cannery web site known as Previous Uyak. It’s on the con­fluence of Uyak Bay and the storm­ ridden waters of Shelikof Straits. My spouse Judy and I and our 4 chil­dren spend somewhat greater than seven months of the 12 months right here, looking in the course of the bear seasons, industrial salmon fishing in the course of the summer time months, and trapping on the shut of the autumn brown bear season. Judy is the camp prepare dinner, our youngsters the camp assist, and I rent one or two licensed guides for the looking sea­sons. The Christmas holidays discover us again at our residence within the city of Kodiak for the winter. I at all times discover myself anxious to return to camp for the spring hunts, and I used to be glad to be with the Kubes.

Round one o’clock I dipped into my pack and hauled out sandwiches, dried fruit, and selfmade candy rolls, and poured steaming cups of tea. We relaxed beneath the nice and cozy solar having fun with lunch and speaking in low tones. Leaning ahead, I targeted dimly on an object some three miles away on the open skyline. Snapping up the glasses, I swung on the darkish spot and pulled it in nearer. It moved! Brigette mentioned, “A bear, a bear!” We each noticed it.

Siegfried moved in at full alert. I watched the bear by the glasses and marveled at its measurement. Even with­ out the binoculars, he was monumental on the skyline. We zeroed Siegfried in on the bear. The three of us then watched as he padded slowly alongside the mountain. We watched for 10 minutes till the bear turned and disappeared from view.

“What do you assume, Leon?” Sieg­ fried requested excitedly.

Even with lengthy hours of daylight forward, the bear was far off for the time we had. He was excessive within the snow, he was touring, and he’d dis­appeared. There was solely a slim probability that we’d ever see him once more. I briefed Siegfried on the scenario, however added that even at this distance, the bear appeared awfully huge and I assumed we had higher have a better look. He jumped on the probability.

To go after the bear meant drop­ping some 800 toes from our lookout and crossing a three-quarter mile val­ ley beneath. Then, climbing a 500-foot slope upward by a mile of heavy brush, we’d beeline for one finish of a small lake, lower throughout 1 / 4 mile of muskeg behind it, then onward and up the 1,800-foot mountain the place we had final seen the bear. It will be a hurried stalk. Be­explanation for the time and distance in­volved, Brigette determined to return to camp. We loaded Siegfried’s knap­sack with additional clothes and cameras, and Brigette buckled it on. We pointed her for camp solely a brief distance away.

Stuffing the naked necessities into my pack, I jabbed Siegfried with, “Suppose you can also make it?” He nodded ex­citedly. We appeared for a number of mo­ments at our meant route. Then, dropping from our lookout at a quick tempo, we have been on our means.

An hour and 45 minutes of laborious going put us within the muskeg close to the small lake. Nearly fortunately a number of clouds started to dam the warmth of the solar. There was no wind. Then we rounded the lake and hurried throughout the swamp.

Progress on the steep mountain­ facet was at a snail’s tempo. Climbing, slipping, and falling on the slope, the tempo started to take its toll of us. We might climb, relaxation a second, then stagger on. We hit snowlike at 1,500 toes. Right here a agency base beneath an inch of slushy snow gave us higher footing. The now-gradual rise to the crest made the going simpler. We took a 10-minute break close to the highest. A cool wind rose from the east. We zipped on down jackets, checked our rifles, and headed for the highest.

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Siegfried’s rifle was an F.N. semi­ automated in .300 Winchester Magazine­num, an actual twin of the present Browning semi-auto that’s bought within the U.S. The rifle was geared up with an 8X Zeiss scope, set on the Euro­ pean type claw-type mounts, and loaded with 220-grain soft-nose bullets. My fixed companion when looking brown bear is an old-model, seven-pound Sako rifle. It’s a .375 Magnum and is outfitted with a Sako peep sight with the aperture bored out to three/16 inch. The barrel is chopped to 19 inches for brush use, and I handload 300-grain Silvertip bullets in entrance of 71½ grains of quick­ burning 4064 powder for max velocity within the brief barrel.

The lengthy, straight valley beneath ended two miles to our left on the ocean’s edge. Inside a mile and a half to our proper it pale into the western finish of the expansive Kaduk Flats. For a full quarter-hour we glassed the valley till the increas­ing wind chilled us into motion. We then adopted the sharp ridge to its finish towards the flats. There we dropped beneath the snowline, out of the wind, and resumed our vigil. 

About 5:30 p.m. Siegfried requested nonchalantly, “Leon, what is that this?” I appeared over and noticed him pointing into the flats. Following his inflexible arm, I noticed a stationary black blob far out within the open muskeg.

“That’s him,” I mentioned. Once more I grabbed the glasses, figuring out it was the bear. “That’s him and he’s on the way in which.” The bear was a mile away on the valley flooring and 1,500 toes be­ low us. However he was headed towards us. He paused right here and there and lots of occasions pale into the dense alder and elderberry patches. Then he would emerge once more, nonetheless coming.

By 7 o’clock the bear was instantly beneath us and nonetheless transferring up the val­ley. For the reason that brush was a lot too thick to chop off or stalk the bear, we started touring with him straight alongside the mountainside and hoping for some form of a break. The bear moved extra steadily now, and it took an actual effort to remain abreast of him. Midway throughout the mountain­ facet we adopted till he disap­peared, this time right into a tall stand of cottonwoods on our facet of the valley.

For one more 20 minutes we strained to see some motion in or across the cottonwoods. The wind had de­creased to nothing, and a wonderful misty rain fell steadily. With out warning the full-throated roar of a bear echoed as much as us.

“What’s this?” Siegfried requested.

“Should be one other bear in there.” I shot again, making an attempt to get one thing within the glasses. Abruptly the alder tops waved frantically 300 yards be­low and a bit forward of us. The wav­ing path of alders continued upward and forward and disappeared behind a steep knoll in entrance of us.

We raced forward 150 yards to the alpine knoll after which paused. I dropped my pack, and we eased over on our bellies by the dwarf willows. There a scant 75 yards away on the barren mountainside, a heavy sow, with ears flattened and fur raised, stood defiantly going through down­ hill. Her yearling cub raced franti­cally round her making an attempt to coax her towards the crusted mountaintop. Fifty toes beneath them lay the massive, darkish bear, spread-eagled on his abdomen within the grass. His eyes have been glued to the cub’s each motion. All of the whereas we watched him, the massive bear emitted a continuing deep, exhaling huhh-huhh-huhh noise. My first thought was that the boar wished the sow for a mate, nevertheless it quickly grew to become obvious that I used to be incorrect. The male was watching the cub’s each transfer with intent.

The cub was out of his thoughts with worry. Racing from the sow a number of toes, he’d then tear again to duck be­hind her. At occasions he slammed into her with a strong whomp. Then off once more. Every time the cub reached out a bit too far, the boar got here to a full alert and raced towards it.

The sow then bolted towards him with a fierce cost that made our 75-yard distance appear too shut. With a wholesome respect for the sow’s tenacity, the boar would flip tail, run downhill a number of toes, and circle again to lie down and proceed his huffing noise. The sow then walked slowly to the cub, each blond hair on her again straight within the air. The sequence repeated itself again and again.

We had determined way back that the boar would go 10 toes plus. Not tak­ing any possibilities, I had Siegfried prepare his rifle on the boar. He watched a lot of the goings on by his scope.

Abruptly the sow outdid herself in a roaring downhill cost on the boar. Discovering his opening, the boar leaped apart. Caught up in her personal momentum, she reeled previous the boar and tore up bushel-size chunks of moss whereas making an attempt desperately to wheel and head again towards her cub. The boar bolted headlong for the cub, who panicked for the highest. The massive bear nearly closed the hole in sec­onds, and the cub reversed course, hoping for security from downhill pace and the sow. For a flat second the boar paused and snapped his head round to test the sow’s progress.

“Shoot him, Sig … hit him,” I mentioned. His rifle raked the stillness of the valley. The boar flinched and staggered ahead. 

“Once more,” I yelled, and the .300 roared a second time. The boar broke right into a useless downhill run after which pitched ahead in a 150-yard tumbling roll down the hill. Delivered to a screeching halt by the sound of rifle hearth, the sow and cub watched the boar roll. Dropping sight of him, they scampered a number of toes to a knob and, with necks craned, watched the boar roll to a useless cease in a patch of thick elder­berry.

The sow, unsure of the situa­tion, turned and got here on to­ward us at a quick gait. We jumped from our inclined positions and I whistled. Nonetheless she got here. I unslung my rifle and yelled sharply. At 40 yards she stopped and stared at us blankly. Lastly, she woofed her cub into movement and so they stormed over the mountaintop.

We waited a couple of minutes to check the thicket the place the boar had stopped, after which we went down. Siegfried was beside himself with ex­citement. The bear was greater than we anticipated, and one of many largest I’d seen in a while. A fast faucet­ing of the entrance pads confirmed the widths to be slightly below 9½ inches, the size simply over 13 inches. 

With darkness on the transfer and two hours to go to hit the seashore, we determined to go away the bear and return the following day.

We reached the ocean’s edge at darkish and constructed a roaring hearth on the seashore. The laborious miles and excite­ment of the day had left Siegfried completely exhausted. I left him by the heat of the hearth and began out on the three-mile stroll alongside the seashore to camp.

At 11:30 p.m. I picked him up in certainly one of our small Boston Whalers, and we returned to camp for a midnight dinner and a welcome relaxation. The subsequent morning broke vivid, calm, and clear. We returned by boat to the place I had picked Siegfried up the night earlier than. With Brigette alongside, we hiked to the bear.

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We took a number of footage, and since we have been lengthy on time, I did an additional shut job of skinning, fleshing the cover white-clean with a curved knife as I skinned. Siegfried carved the cranium clear. The cranium later missed Boone and Crockett mini­mum scores by 1/16 inch, however scored sufficient to go effectively into the Alaska Report Ebook. The clear cover and cranium weighed a complete of 168 kilos again at camp. The inexperienced cover stretched loosely on our warehouse flooring measured 11 toes 4 inches from the tip of the best entrance claw throughout to the tip of the left claw, and 9 toes 8½ inches from the tip of the nostril to the tip of the tail. Including these two measurements collectively and dividing by two is the strategy used for figuring the squared measurement of a bear cover. Siegfried’s bear was simply over 10 toes 6 inches.

As we rubbed the final little bit of salt into the cover, the glad German smiled and mentioned, “ Leon, I don’t miss a lot the polar bear now.”