Bears as Predators ~

[brotherbear]

Man Meets Grizzly by Young and Beyers.

We had not gone far when Father said, "There is our bear down by that big tree in the bottom. He is a big Kodiak, and if I'm not mistaken, he is stalking game." We noted his apparent interest in something ahead. He would hurry for a few rods then stop, then walk slowly forward again. We eased along, keeping our eyes on this king of the forest. We hadn't long to wait, for not far ahead, near some trees by the ledge, we spied a large bull moose and two cows. So this was what Mr. Kodiak was after! There was no pouncing upon his prey unseen; it must be attack and kill. From all we had heard of Kodiak bears and their great strength, we figured it wouldn't take that bear long to procure his game. It was a natural conclusion to make, but as we got a better look at the bull moose, with his powerful build, those big horns with their wide-spread points and spike, that great head and muscular neck and shoulders, and those hoofs, we concluded that even the Kodiak might have some killing to do.

The wind, what there was of it, blew down the canyon, so the bear had not noticed us, nor had the moose been aware of the Kodiak until he was rather close. Some of the bear's approach was made in the open, as the trees were in groups or patches. When the moose became aware of his enemy, he snorted a warning to the cows, and they moved quickly into the timber while the guardian stood his ground. He pawed the earth and tossed his huge antlers. The Kodiak immediately began a series of preliminary and threatening rushes and sideward advances, keeping his eyes constantly on his prey.

At this point the two giants of the North Country were not far apart, only two or three yards. The bear champed his jaws and made a whining half-whoof and rose upon his legs, a magnificent specimen of strength. But to our surprise and amazement, the moose took the challenge and sprang to the fray. As he came near to the bear he rose upon his hind feet for the charge, his great horns making a formidable spectacle. He was fully as tall as the Kodiak.

Then they both made the plunge to kill, simultaneously, but the bear's huge paw found its mark first and tore the moose's shoulder and side with such accuracy and force that it sent the animal whiling and slipping for thirty feet, and left a ragged, open cut a yard long in his flesh. Was this the end? Surely it would seem so, but it was not. To our surprise the moose gathered himself and with quick bounds was upon the furry beast with all his might, tearing into him with those terrible sharp antlers. When the bear shook loose, it took him some time to recover and strike the moose again.

They separated and sparred for an opening. Our pack animals had become excited at this point, so we took them back from the rim and made them fast to a tree. When we rode back to our vantage point, we found the monsters in a fierce struggle again. This was repeated many times. We believed the bear would soon finish the moose, but the anger and strength of the bull was a fair match for the Kodiak.

Dad said, "how long do you think this thing can last?" We had been so interested we forgot about the time, and the sun was far to the west. The beasts would hit and gore and struggle for advantage and occasionally separate and move apart to get their wind. Neither would give up. At any minute we expected to see one or the other admit he had had enough and leave the arena.

It was a battle of champions. Since that day I have seen some fights by men and animals and have read of many, but never have I seen or heard of such a vicious struggle as my father and I witnessed from a ringside seat on the rim of Little White Horse Creek. I thrill to think of it now.
The combatants had moved away from each other, and it looked as though it might be a mutual agreement to postpone the decision. The moose stood off a few yards looking at the shaggy, torn Kodiak as he walked up the rocky slope toward the ledge. When the bear turned, with his back to a massive block of stone, he looked at the moose as though to say, "If you want me, come up and get me!" The moose shook his stack of broad, sharp-pointed horns, struck the ground with a strong hoof, and accepted the challenge. With a spring over the rocks, and head down, he struck old Kodiak in the side with two spikes and drove them home. He heaved the bear up against the wall. The bear had no doubt looked to the wall for protection; it now served as a backstop. The moose's legs stiffened and he bored in on the bear, which gave forth a bellowing howl unworthy of such a boastful fighter. The bear struggled to free himself. He bit and struck with his front paws and clawed with his hind feet, but the moose never for a moment relaxed his determination to put an end to the struggle. For three quarters of an hour, by my father's watch, this gripping round went on. It was getting late, and we wanted to be on our way, but could not pull ourselves from such a contest. We had to know its outcome.

The bear's moans and groans became fainter and died down. Then the moose withdrew those gory antlers, gave his head a shake, snorted to clear the blood from his nostrils and mouth, stepped aside, freeing the bear, and watched his vanquished enemy roll over three or four times to the level ground. The moose went to the carcass and looked at it a moment; then, being satisfied, proudly limped away up the canyon to the cows.

For eight hours we had been spellbound. Now we rode down and examined the mutilated Kodiak. We measured him. Father said he was thirteen feet, six inches, from the tip of the nose to the end of the tail - and a bear's tail is not long. The skin was too much torn to be of any use, so we proceeded upon our journey.

Coming back a week later, we ran onto the carcass of a very large moose. His bones had been stripped by the wolves, but the antlers showed the effects of that gallant fight. Whether he had been killed by wolves or had died from the awful blows and bites of the bear we could not know. But his courage and tenacity had made him a worthy adversary against the great Kodiak. I wondered then how many such dramas are enacted in the wilderness when no man or even other animal is present to give testimony. Reply