Man-Animal Interaction: Conflict & Coexistance

[brotherbear]

Yellowstone Bears in the Wild.
Bears are big, fierce, savage, and fearless. Wrong! As Klari Lea, bear aficionado from Vince Preserve says, "Bear are fearful, not fearless." A bear's life is one of danger, and three things in particular scare them: other bears, the unknown, and people.
Bears are wary of other bears until they have ascertained the other bear's size and temperament. One spring at Junction Butte pond there was a carcass in the forest about 50 feet from the road. For several days a small black bear would come off the hill at daylight and feed. After awhile a medium-sized black bear would come down, and the first bear would reluctantly leave. After some more time, a third, bigger black bear would arrive, and the second bear would move away.
One morning "Small" had been moved off by "Medium." "Big" came down and merely by his presence shoved a very disgruntled Medium off the carcass. With knees locked, Medium stomped off about 50 feet, smashing every bush along the way. Medium then attacked a lodgepole pine, buffeting it with a left paw and then the right. Eventually Medium sat down and picked up a deer antler in its paws. The bear vigorously chewed on the thick end of the antler, obviously letting out aggressive feelings. Later I picked up the antler, its end was shredded into slivers the size of toothpicks. In this case, fear of the larger bear led to displacement behavior. Afraid to take out its aggression on the bigger bear, Medium displaced its behavior by beating up bushes and antlers.
The unknown is a powerful source of fear. Once I observed a large grizzly fishing in a stream. Earlier in the day the grizzly had won its spot by showing dominance over another bear, making that bear give way. All of a sudden a small, rambunctious black bear chrged noisily down the hill and splashed into the center of the stream. Without pausing to check the source of the sudden noise and commotion, the frightened grizzly simply exploded out of the stream, up through the forest and out of sight.
Mother Nature can throw unknowns at bears. A student of mine, Veryl Goodnight, explained an experience we shared and videoed. High on Mount Washburn we watched a very blond adult grizzly grazing a half mile away. An approaching thunderstorm darkened the sky, dramatically emphasizing the vastness of the wilderness around us.
Rain came first, followed by hail. Our grizzly grazed on. Then came the first clap of thunder. It was distant but the lightening had illuminated our surroundings under the dark sky. We retreated to the bus where I kept videoing. Rain and hail slanted down. As the storm neared, the thunder grew louder. Now with each thunderclap the grizzly visibly jumped.
Suddenly a bolt of lightening exploded close to us. My video flashed overexposed and thunder rocked the sound track. The flash was instantly followed by a quick, sharp thunderclap, and the grizzly ran a short distance. Then came a huge, deafening burst of thunder. The grizzly reared up on its hind legs and danced around, looking right, then left, to see where the danger was. There came another close, loud thunderclap and the bear stood up again, visibly frightened. The pose was not like that of the taxidermist showing a bear about to attack. The pose showed fear. The bear was scared and was trying to find the source of the danger. Finally the bear dropped to all fours and galloped into the forest.
The bear's fear was the same fear that some dogs show in a thunderstorm. We came to the wilderness thinking the grizzly was the most ferocious animal in North America, but this bear was scared, even though storms in the high mountains are part of his life. It was another revelation about bears.
To a bear, surprise is a great unknown. One day I was rapidly hiking through the forest and leaped onto a large boulder. To my surprise - and the bear's, too - a black bear was laying in a day bed on the other side of the boulder. I remember seeing daylight below the bear's feet as it jumped into the air, vaulting about 30 feet away. Then it looked at me. It looked at a pine tree. It stood, reached up, and grasped both sides of the tree with its front legs. Glaring at me, the bear dug its claws into the tree trunk and slashed them down the tree. Ten vivid claw marks served as a message. Displacement behavior? Warning? I chose not to find out and respectfully backed away. Reply