CHAPTER X--The Ranger Tells a Grizzly Bear Story Before the Camp-Fire
"The first thing you want to remember about old Mr. Silver Tip," saidthe Ranger, "is that he's a good deal like a lot o' big, strong men,he's too powerful to be scrappy. You hear a lot o' stories aboutgrizzlies bein' terrible fighters, and they sure can fight when they'recornered, or when old mother bear thinks her cubs are in danger. But ifa silver tip can possibly get away, he gets. That's not because he'safraid, either, of anything on earth except a high power rifle. It'sbecause he ain't lookin' for trouble. Mr. Silver Tip is afraid of arifle, all right, and he's about the smartest of all animals in keepingaway from it, too. But there's nothing else he's afraid of, and beforeman came into these mountains to shoot him, he just wandered aroundhere, the king pin, and nobody bothered him a bit, no sir."
"But don't grizzlies have to fight to kill anything as big as a moose?"asked Bob.
"They don't kill anything as big as a moose," the Ranger said. "Oh, oncein a blue moon an old bear will go wrong, and take to killing cattle.Down in Wyoming there was a silver tip used to kill cattle, and twohundred men and dogs hunted him a month, and never did get him. Butmostly they live on roots and berries and mice and ground squirrels anddead birds and animal carcases something else has killed. Why, I've seena grizzly digging out a ground squirrel in the early spring, just afterhe'd come out of his winter nest, not far from my cabin, and a lot ofsheep, down there to get the early grass, walking right up close to himto see what he was up to. When they got too close--sheep are kind o'curious, like kids and women--he just _woufed_ at 'em, to drive 'em off.They weren't afraid of him eatin' 'em, though, at all, and he could havecleaned out the flock with about two bites.
"Well, this is just to show you how little fear Mr. Silver Tip has thatanything but a man can do him any harm, or will dare try it. I washunting once over west of the Flathead River, in bear country, and I hada dead horse out in a clearing for bait. Up in a tree on the edge of theclearing I'd built myself a kind of blind, where I could watch. You see,most bears can climb trees, but the grizzly can't, so when one comesafter you, Bob, you just beat it up the nearest trunk."
"Thanks for the tip--the silver tip, as you might say," the boy laughed.
"Well," Mills went on, "by 'n' by along into the clearing come twolions, long, lean, hungry lookin', sneaky beasts they are, too--I hate'em--and they fell to on the carcase, and began to eat. Thinks I, I'dwait and see what happened, instead of killin' 'em and maybe scarin' offthe bear with the shots so's he'd never come back. Sure enough, the oldboy came galumphing along presently, and went up on his hind legs whenhe saw the lions at his festal board, as you might say. Then he droppeddown again, and just walked right up, stuck his big shoulders in betweenthe two lions, shovin' 'em apart, and began to eat."
"That's no way to treat a lion," said Lucy.
"No, specially as one of 'em was a lady lion," Mills laughed. "Butthat's what old Silver Tip did. The lions naturally didn't like it, andone of 'em snarled, and up with his paw and fetched the bear a nastyswipe. Then I expected to see trouble.
"But what do you think the old bear did? He just kind of side-cut withone of his big paws and caught that lion a blow that sent him spinninghead over tail twenty feet down the slope. Then he went right on eating.He didn't look at the other lion, he didn't even look around to see whatthe first one was goin' to do. 'Peared as if he was quite certain whatthey'd both do, and they done it. They both took a quick sneak into thewoods, and left Mr. Silver Tip to his feast. You couldn't have brushedoff a mosquito more calmly. I says to myself then that it showed howsure of himself the grizzly is--he's king of the forest, all right."
"And did you shoot him after that?" Lucy asked.
"Sure I shot him."
"I think you were real horrid," she said.
"Maybe," Mills answered. "But I'm still wearin' his skin in winter."
"How many shots did it take?" asked one of the congressmen. "I've alwaysheard you have to pump a grizzly full of lead, and then use a knife todefend yourself, after your last shell is emptied."
"The feller that told you that was a bum shot," said the Ranger."'Course there are a lot of bum shots come out here huntin'. One bullet,in the brain, the upper part of the heart, or the right place in thespine, will drop a silver tip like a sack o' grain. You've got to knowwhere to hit, and you've got to hit there, naturally. Trouble is, greenhunters get scared or rattled, and don't aim right, and half the timewhen they think they're plugging the bear they're really peppering therocks behind him. I wouldn't want to hunt 'em myself with a single shotrifle, but I could if I had to. A city chap in one of our parties once,over in the Blackfeet forest, smashed all four of a bear's legs withbullets, and then the bear, tryin' to get away, fell into a stream anddrowned to death. Our cook asked the feller why he didn't chuck him into start with, and save shells."
"When you going to show us a bear?" Bob demanded.
"Mercy, I do hope it isn't very soon!" cried Bob's mother. "I'm sure _I_don't want to meet one. I don't suppose there are any in the Park anymore."
"Oh, yes, more 'n ever," said the Ranger, managing a secret wink to Joe."Why, there was two women from Boston once, sitting in broad day on thesteep cut bank of a stream, and they heard crashings in the bush, andlooked back and seen a big grizzly coming right toward 'em, and theyyelled like Comanches and fell right down the bank into the water, andwaded across up to their necks and beat it back to camp."
"Better stick close to brave little Bobbie, ma," laughed her son. "Iwon't let the naughty big bear bite you. But when are you going to showme one, Mr. Mills?"
"Day after to-morrow," said the Ranger.
Joe pricked up his ears. It sounded as if Mills meant it.
"Is that a threat or a promise?" Lucy asked.
"Promise for Bob, a threat for Mrs. Jones, I guess," said the Ranger,rising from the ground, and adding, "Who's ready for bed?"
"Better ask who isn't," somebody laughed.
Joe went as far out on the rocky spit into the lake as he could get; hecould see the dying camp-fire gleaming red back under the trees; and allaround him, over the dim, starlit water, rose the majestic mountains,great walls of shadow rearing up half-way to the top of the sky. It wasa still, solemn scene, and he felt very small as he crouched by the lakeand cleaned his teeth in water that was almost as cold as ice.
When he got back to camp every one was abed, and he crawled into thetent with Mills and wrapped himself up in his blankets, with only hisponcho for a mattress, and almost before he had got his body fitted intothe unevennesses of the ground he was fast asleep.