Bears of the Himalayan Mountains

[brotherbear]

Tracking Gobi Grizzlies
My wife, Karen Reeves, spent several summers managing a hike-in chalet high in the Glacier Park backcountry. One year, a spell of rain wrapped the heights in heavy clouds, hiding the spectacular topography from sight for days. One of the guests, a woman with an infant child, grew more and more restless as the storm kept its shroud over the land. At last, she decided that, rain or no rain, view or no view, she and her husband were going to get out on the trail to a pass south of the chalet. The high point was barely a mile distant, but the route was steep. By the time the couple negotiated the pass and started through the alpine meadows beyond, their baby had grown hungry. Picking out a level spot, the woman sat, opened her jacket, and began to suckle the child amid veils of mist.
As the baby nursed, the parents took more notice of their surroundings. They became aware of an occasional break in the fog. Then out of the swirls stepped a grizzly. Coming from the opposite side of the pass, the bear was no more than forty or fifty yards away, well within the zone where a startled bear may reflexively attack. Not only was this a grizz, it was the kind said to be the one you least want to meet at close quarters: a mother with young. She had two cubs at her heels.
The bear noticed the people at almost the same time. She stopped walking, swiveled to check on her offspring, and turned back to stare directly at the parents and child again. After what must have felt like an awfully long pause, this grizzly made its move. She plonked down on her hindquarters, gathered the cubs up onto her lap, and began nursing them. Maybe it was the smell of the other mammal's milk that inspired her; maybe something else. I don't remember Karen relating how long the mothers sat there on the pass, not far from one another, nursing their babies. I only remember hearing that after the young were fed and content, the two females rose and went their separate ways. Reply