Wild Beasts and Their Ways, Reminiscences of Europe, Asia, Africa and America. Volume 1

I never slept in one of those prairie stations again, but we preferred a camp sheet and good blankets on the sage-bush, with the sky for a ceiling.

On arrival at Fort Fetterman, 90 miles from Rock Creek station, the coach drew up at a loghouse of greater pretensions than those upon the prairie. I had letters of introduction from General McDowell (who was Commander-in-Chief of the Pacific Coast) to Colonel Gentry, who commanded Fort Fetterman, and Major Powell of the same station.

Not wishing to drive up to the door of his private house, we alighted at the log-hut which represented the inn. The room was horridly dirty, the floor was sanded, and there was a peculiar smell of bad drink, and an expression of depravity about the establishment.

The host was a tall man, attired as usual in a flannel shirt and trousers, with a belt and revolver. He had evidently observed an expression of disgust upon our faces, as he exclaimed, "Well, I guess we ain't fixed up for ladies; and p'r'aps it's as well that you came to-day instead of last night, if you ain't fond of shooting affairs. You were just looking at that table and thinking the tablecover was a bit dirty, weren't you? Well, last night Dick and Bill got to words over their cards, and before Dick could get out his six-shooter, young Bill was too quick and resolute, and he put two bullets through him just across this table, and he fell over it on his face, and never spoke a word. It's a good job too that Dick's got it at last."

This little incident was quite in harmony with the appearance of the den. I knew that letters had been previously forwarded from San Francisco to the Commandant, therefore I strolled towards his quarters, to leave my card and letter of introduction.

Fort Fetterman is not a fort, but merely an open station, with a frontier guard of one company of troops. I met Colonel Gentry, who was, very kindly, on his way towards the inn to meet us on arrival. Upon my inquiring respecting the fatal quarrel across the table, he informed me that he had held an inquest, and buried the man that morning.

The deceased was a notorious character, and he would assuredly have shot his younger antagonist, had he not been the quicker of the two in drawing his pistol.

This was a satisfactory termination to a dispute concerning cards, and there was a total absence of any false sentiment upon the part of the commonsense authority.

We were most hospitably entertained by Major and Mrs. Powell, to whose kind care we were committed by Colonel Gentry, who, being a bachelor, had no accommodation for ladies. It was very delightful, in the centre of a prairie wilderness, to meet with ladies, and to hear the rich contralto voice of Miss Powell, their daughter of eighteen, who promised to be a singer much above the average.

On the following morning we started for Powder River, 92 miles from Fort Fetterman; there was no public conveyance, as Powder River station had been abandoned since the Indians had been driven back, and confined to their reservation lands. We were bound by invitation to the cattle ranche of Mr. R. Frewen and his brother Mr. Moreton Frewen; these gentlemen had an establishment at Powder River, although their house was 22 miles distant upon the other side, in the centre of their ranche. They had very kindly sent a four-wheeled open carriage for us; one of those conveyances that are generally known as American waggons, with enormously high wheels of cobweb-like transparency. Jem Bourne had been sent as our conductor, having been engaged as my head man.

There was nothing but prairie throughout this uninteresting journey, enlivened now and then by a few antelopes.

Castle Frewen, as the superior log building was facetiously called by the Americans, was 212 miles from Rock Creek station, and we were well pleased upon arrival to accept their thoroughly appreciated hospitality. Their house had an upper floor, and a staircase rising from a hall, the walls of which were boarded, but were ornamented with heads and horns of a variety of wild animals; these were in excellent harmony with the style of the surroundings. Here we had the additional advantage of a kind and most charming hostess in Mrs. Moreton Frewen, in whose society it seemed impossible to believe that we were so remote from what the world calls civilisation. There was a private telephone, 22 miles in length, to the station at Powder River, and the springing of the alarm every quarter of an hour throughout the day was a sufficient proof of the attention necessary to conduct the affairs successfully at that distance from the place of business.

Our kind friends afforded us every possible assistance for the arrangements that were necessary, and we regarded with admiration the energy and perseverance they exhibited in working with their own hands, and in KNOWING HOW TO USE THEIR OWN HANDS, in the absence of such assistance as would be considered necessary in civilised countries.

There were about 8000 head of cattle upon the Frewens' ranche, all of which were in excellent condition. It was beyond my province to enter upon the question of successful ranching, but the Americans confided to me that the prairie grass, instead of benefiting by the pasturing of cattle, became exhausted, and that weeds usurped the place of the grass, which disappeared; therefore it would follow that a given area, that would support 10,000 head of cattle at the present time, would in a few years only support half that number. It might therefore be inferred that the process of deterioration would ultimately result in the loss of pasturage, and the necessary diminution in the herds.

From the Frewens' ranche, a ride of 25 miles along the course of the Powder river brought us to the last verge of civilisation; the utmost limit of the cattle ranches was owned by very nice young people, Mr. and Mrs. Peters, Americans, and Mr. Alston, an English partner.

We had been hospitably received by these charming young settlers, whose rough log-house was in the last stage of completion, and I fear we must have caused them great personal inconvenience.

On the following morning we started for the wilds of the Big Horn, and crossing the Powder river, we at once commenced the steep ascent, for a steady pull of 4000 feet above the dell in which the house was situated. We left them, with the promise to pay them a few days' visit on our return.

It was then that we quickly discovered the peculiarities of our four attendants, whom I had expected to be examples of stern hardihood, that would represent the fabled reputation of the backwoodsman.

Although they were fine fellows in a certain way, they astonished me by their luxurious habits. In a country that abounded with game, I should have expected to exist upon the produce of the rifle, as I had done so frequently during many years' experience of rough life. A barrel of biscuits, a few pounds of bacon, and a good supply of coffee would have been sufficient for a crowned head who was fond of shooting, especially in a country where every kind of animal was fat. My men did not view this picture of happiness in the same light; they required coffee, sugar, an immense supply of bacon, an oven for baking bread, flour, baking-powder, preserved apples (dried), ditto peaches, ditto blackberries, together with the necessaries of pepper, salt, etc.

It was always my custom to drink a pint of cafe au lait and to eat some toast and butter at about 6 A.M. before starting for our day's work; after this I never thought of food throughout the day, until my return in the evening, which was generally at five or six o'clock.

My people were never ready in the morning, but were invariably squatted in front of the frying-pan, frizzling bacon, when I was prepared to start. Jem Bourne was a chronic grumbler because we hunted far away from camp, instead of returning at mid-day to luncheon. Excellent fresh bread was baked daily, and I insisted upon the people supplying themselves with sufficient food packed upon their saddles, if they were not hardy enough for a day's work after a good breakfast.

I observed that my friends Big Bill and Bob Stewart were also provided with a large supply of bacon, although they left the fattest animals rotting in the forest, simply because they hunted for the hides.

In the same manner I remarked the extreme fastidiousness of these otherwise hardy people in rejecting food which we should have considered delicious. I have seen them repeatedly throw away the sage-hens that I have shot; these were birds which we prized. On one occasion, as we were travelling when moving camp, I shot a jackass rabbit from the saddle, with my .577 rifle. It gave me considerable trouble to dismount and open this animal, which would have gained a prize for fat; having cleaned it most carefully, I stuffed the inside with grass, and attached it to the saddle. We never had an opportunity of eating this splendid specimen; on inquiring, the cook had thrown it away, "because at this season jackass rabbits fed upon sage shoots, and the flesh tasted of sage!

As we shall return to the Big Horn range when treating upon the habits of wapiti and other animals, I shall now refer to the Indian bears, and commence with the most spiteful of the species, Ursus labiatus.

CHAPTER XI

THE BEAR (continued)

The outline that I have already given of Ursus labiatus is sufficient to condemn its character; there are more accidents to natives of India and Ceylon from the attacks of this species than from any other animal; at the same time it is not carnivorous, therefore no excuse can be brought forward in extenuation. I have already observed that this variety of the bear family does not hybernate; it has a peculiar knack of concealment, as it is seldom met during the daytime, although perhaps very numerous in a certain locality. In places abounding with rocky hills, deep ravines, and thick bush, it may be readily imagined that bears obtain the requisite shelter without difficulty; but I have frequently visited their haunts, where no perceptible means of secreting themselves existed, nevertheless each night afforded fresh evidences of their industry in digging pits, when searching for white ants, within 150 yards of our camp. In these places we seldom found a bear, although driving the jungles daily with nearly two hundred beaters. This experience would denote that the bears travel long distances at night, to visit some favourite resort which produces the necessary food. The stomachs of all wild animals when shot should be immediately examined, as the contents will be a guide to the locality which they inhabit. I have killed elephants in Africa at least 50 miles distant from any cultivation, but their stomachs were filled with dhurra (Sorghum vulgare), thus proving that they had wandered great distances in search of a much-loved food that could not be obtained in their native forests. In the same manner all wild animals will travel extraordinary distances to obtain either water or food in countries where they are liable to be pursued. When the watchers who protect the crops are in sufficient force to drive the nocturnal intruders away with guns, the same animals will probably not reappear upon the following night, but they will visit some well-known spot in an opposite direction, and reappear forty-eight hours later upon the forbidden ground.

The elephants in that portion of Abyssinia which is traversed by the various affluents of the Nile, being much harassed by the sword-hunters of the Hamran Arabs, never drink in the same locality upon two nights consecutively; they drink in the Settite river perhaps on Monday, march 30 miles in retreat, and on the following night they will have wandered another 30 miles to the river Gash, in a totally opposite direction. They will then possibly return to the Settite, and after drinking, they will take a new departure, and march to the river Royan or to the Bahr Salaam.

A bear is a rapid traveller, and although sluggish in appearance when confined, it is extremely active; therefore outward signs of digging, although evidence of nocturnal visits, cannot be accepted as proofs of the bear's proximity.

I believe that leopards may be frequently crouching among the branches of trees, and remain unseen, while a person, unconscious of their presence, may pass beneath; but although the sloth bear is most active in ascending a tree, it would be difficult for it to remain unobserved, owing to its superior size and remarkable black colour. A very large old tree with a considerable cavernlike hole at the bottom should always be carefully examined, as bears are particularly fond of these impromptu dwellings. I knew a man who was thus surprised whilst cutting wood from a large tree, unconscious of the fact that a bear was concealed within the hollow trunk. The blows of the axe disturbed the occupant, which immediately bolted from the hollow, and seized the wood-cutter by the thigh. Fortunately the man had his axe, with which he at once belaboured the bear upon the head until it relinquished its hold. I saw the scars of the wound inflicted by the canine teeth; these were about 6 inches in length, extending from inside the thigh to the knee-joint. The man declared that if his axe had been heavier he could have killed the bear, but it happened to be exceedingly light, and had very little effect.

My shikari Kerim Bux, who was a very powerful man, had a serious encounter with a bear, which seized his master, and immediately turned upon him when he rushed unarmed to his assistance; the bear seized him by the leg, but in the wrestling match which ensued, Kerim came off victor, although badly bitten, as he threw the bear over a precipice, upon the edge of which the struggle had taken place. This man was head constable in the police, and bore a very high reputation.

The Ursus labiatus being one of the most vicious animals, I have seen it upon two occasions attack an elephant, one of which was quite unprovoked.

We had been driving jungle for sambur deer in the Balaghat district, and instead of posting myself upon a mucharn, or occupying any fixed position, I remained upon my elephant Hurri Ram. This was a tusker that had been lent to me by the Government upon two occasions, and he was so good-tempered, and active in making his way over bad ground in steep forests, that I determined to try him as a shooting elephant. I took my stand upon the open grass-land, which was beautifully undulating, and would have made a handsome park. Standing behind a bush we were partially concealed, and I waited in expectation that some animals might break covert in my direction. Presently I saw a dark object running through the low bushes upon the margin of the sal forest on my right, and a large bear emerged about 100 yards from my position. It stood upon the open for a few seconds, evidently taking a close scrutiny of the surroundings, prior to a run across the country, where no chance would be afforded for concealment. It suddenly espied the elephant, and, apparently without a moment's hesitation, it charged from the great distance of 100 yards at full speed directly upon the nervous Hurri Ram. I had not long to wait, but just as I pulled the trigger, when the bear was within 10 yards, the elephant whisked round and bolted down hill across the open, towards the portion of the jungle that was about 250 yards upon my left. Nothing would stop the runaway brute, but fortunately I had stationed a police constable at the very spot for which the elephant was making, and he, seeing the state of affairs, ran forward, shouting at the top of his voice and flourishing his rifle; this had the effect of turning the runaway, just as it was about to enter the forest, where we should in all probability have been smashed.

The bear had in the meantime gone across country, and although we hunted it for more than a mile, we never saw it again. This was a purely unprovoked attack, and it would have been interesting to have seen the result had the elephant not bolted. I imagine that the bear would have seized it by the leg, and afterwards would have attempted a retreat.

Upon another occasion, at a place called Soondah in the same district, I was upon Hurri Ram; I had been working through the high grass in the first-class reserves throughout the day, having killed a splendid stag sambur, when we were attracted by the peculiar short roar or moan made by a tigress calling either for her cub or for some male companion. This was in the sal forest, within a quarter of a mile of our position. It was a dangerous attempt, upon such an untrustworthy elephant as Hurri Ram, to look for a tiger in a thick sal jungle, as that species of tree grows in long straight trunks exceedingly close together, to an extent that would make it impossible for a large elephant to continue a direct course. Should the animal run away, the result would probably be fatal to the rider. We again heard the cry of the tiger repeated; this decided me to make the trial, and we entered the forest, carefully advancing, and scanning every direction.

The sal tree produces one of the most valuable woods in India for building purposes, and for railway sleepers. The bark is black, which gives the forest a sombre appearance, and the trees grow perfectly straight, generally to a height of 30 or 40 feet, before they divide into branches; it may be readily imagined that an elephant would find a difficulty in threading its way through the narrow passages formed by these mast-like growths. In addition to this difficulty, there were numerous clumps of the tough male bamboo, which nothing will break, and which is terribly dangerous should a runaway elephant attempt to penetrate it, as the hard wiry branches would lacerate a rider in a frightful manner. There were numerous ravines in this forest, and we kept along the margin, slowly and cautiously, peering at the same time into the depths, in the expectation of seeing the wandering tiger.

It was very perplexing; sometimes we heard the cry of the tiger in one direction, and upon reaching the spot, we heard it at a different place. I was determined not to give it up, and we worked for at least two hours, until we had thoroughly examined every ravine, and all the smaller nullahs that would have been likely hiding-places. "Past five o'clock," I exclaimed, upon looking at my watch. It was time to turn homewards, as it would be dark at six, and should we be benighted in the forest we should not find our way, neither would it be possible to ride an elephant, owing to the thick bamboo. We accordingly gave up our search for the tiger, and steered in a new direction towards the camp.

We had advanced for about half an hour through the gloomy forest, and were within about 3/4 of a mile in a direct line of the tents, when I observed a peculiarly dark shadow upon my right, about 35 yards distant, close to a dense mass of feathery bamboos. I stopped the elephant for an instant, and at the same moment the black mass moved away towards the thick cover of the foliage.

Guessing the position of the shoulder, I took a quick shot with the Paradox gun; the elephant, most fortunately, not having observed the animal.

The effect was most extraordinary; I never heard such a noise; there was a combination of roars and howls, as though a dozen tigers and lions were engaged in a Salvation Army chorus. Away went Hurri Ram, rendering it impossible for me to fire, as a large bear came straight at us, charging from the deep gloom of a bamboo clump, and growling, as it ran with the speed of a dog, direct at the elephant.

I thought we must be knocked to pieces; two or three smaller trees fortunately gave way before the terrified rush of Hurri Ram, but the power of the driving-hook was gone; although the mahout alternately drove the spike deep into his skull and hooked the sharp crook into the tender base of the ears, the elephant crashed along, threatening us with destruction, as he swept through bamboos, and appeared determined to run for miles.

I had been accustomed to feed this animal daily with all kinds of nice delicacies beloved by elephants, and at such times I always spoke to him in a peculiar phraseology. Although I was in the worst possible humour, and considerably anxious regarding our safety, when rushing through forest at 15 miles an hour, I addressed Hurri Ram in most endearing terms-"Poor old fellow, poor old Hurri Ram, where are the sugar-canes? where are the chupatties, poor old boy?" etc. etc. I believe thoroughly that the well-known tones of my voice restored his confidence far more than the torture of the driving-hook, and after a race of about 150 yards he stopped. "Now turn him round, give him the point sharp, and drive him straight for the bear." The mahout obeyed the order, and we soon approached the spot, where the roars and howls still continued. My men were up the trees; the shikari had thrown a mighty spear upon the ground, and had gone up the branches like a squirrel, as he did not see the fun of meeting the bear's charge.

Before we had time to examine the actual condition of affairs, the big bear suddenly dashed out again straight at the elephant, and once more in a disgraceful panic he took to flight, without the possibility, on my part, of taking a shot, when the bear thus daringly exposed itself. Again I had to comfort Hurri Ram, and by degrees we stopped his mad career, and once more returned to the scene of his discomfiture. There was a slight depression in an open hollow, where high grass in swampy ground intervened between two sections of the forest. As we advanced, the elephant being severely punished by the driving-hook and scolded by the mahout, the bear suddenly uprose from the high grass, and standing upon its hind legs, it faced us at about 40 yards' distance, affording a magnificent chance for a deadly shot. Away went Hurri Ram again, whisking round before I had a moment to fire; and after two successive chances of this kind, the bear escaped into the opposite jungle, and we searched for it in vain.

We now returned, and with some difficulty drove Hurri Ram to the scene of conflict. There was a bear lying dead. The howls and roars had ceased, and a few yards to the left of the dead bear was a large black mass: this was another bear, in the last gasp. Both had been knocked over by only one bullet from the Paradox.

Although I had only seen one bear, and that most indistinctly, it appeared that the bullet, being intensely hard, and propelled by 4 1/2 drams of powder, had gone completely through the shoulder of the original bear, and then struck an unseen companion, who must have been some yards distant upon lower ground beyond. The bullet had broken the shoulder of this unlucky friend, and was sticking in its lungs, having carried a bundle of coarse black hair from bear No. 1 and deposited it upon its course in bear No. 2.

Although these were full-grown bears, there can be little doubt that the bear that had so determinedly attacked the elephant was the mother, infuriated by the roars and howls of her dying offspring. The penetration of the Paradox bullet was highly satisfactory, but I was terribly disgusted with Hurri Ram, whose misconduct had caused the loss of bear No. 3, which would most certainly have been included in the list of killed had I had the chance of only one second's quiet.

My men were not in the least ashamed when they descended from the trees, as they considered that the better part of valour was discretion. The large spear had been manufactured expressly for this kind of emergency, by a celebrated native cutler, Bhoput of Nagpur. It is always advisable that some powerful and plucky shikari should carry such a weapon for approaching any wounded animal, as accidents generally occur from carelessness, when the animal is supposed to be lying helpless, at the point of death. Such a spear should be 2 feet long, with a blade 3 inches wide, and extremely sharp. There should be a short cross-bar about 22 inches from the point, to prevent the spear from running completely through an animal, which could then writhe up the handle, and attack. The socket should be large and long, to admit a very thick male bamboo, as the mistake is too frequently made that the spear is strong, but the handle is too weak. It is very important that a trustworthy attendant should be thus armed, as a dying animal can then be approached with comparative impunity.

The risks that are run in following wounded animals are far greater than the prime attack. Should an animal charge without being wounded, it may generally be turned by a steady shot, if not absolutely killed; but when badly hurt, the onset of a beast is spasmodic, and nothing but death will paralyse the spring. I could mention numerous cases where lamentable disasters have occurred simply through thoughtlessness on the part of the hunter, who has been sacrificed in consequence of his neglect. One of the saddest catastrophes was the death of the late Lord Edward St. Maur, son of the Duke of Somerset, who died from the effects of amputation necessitated by the mangled state of his knee from the attack of a bear some years ago in India. This unfortunate young sportsman was shooting alone, and having wounded a bear, he followed up the animal for about a mile. When discovered it immediately charged him, and although again seriously wounded by his shot, the bear seized him by the knee, pulled him to the ground, and in the struggle that ensued he was seriously mauled. The bear was driven away by his attendants, and he was conveyed to camp. There was no blame in this instance attached to himself, or to any other person. In a most courageous manner he defended himself against the bear with his hunting-knife, and the body of the animal was recovered after some days by his shikari; but this promising young nobleman was cut off in the early days of his career, and was probably sacrificed through a want of surgical experience on the part of the native operator. I remember an instance of carelessness, which might have had a disastrous result, many years ago, when I was hunting in Ceylon. My brother, the late General Valentine Baker, was riding with me through the jungles in the district called "The Park." I had been caught by a rogue elephant a few days before, and my right thigh was so damaged that I could only walk a few yards with difficulty. Suddenly the man who walked before my horse ran back, and shouted "Wallahah, Wallahah" (Bears, Bears), and we caught sight of some large black object rushing through the jungle, close to our horses' heads. Valentine Baker jumped nimbly off, and I heard a shot almost immediately; my wounded leg was perfectly numbed, and I had no feeling in my foot; therefore, as it touched the ground without sensation, I fell over on my back. Gathering myself together, I managed to run in chase, and I shortly found myself close to the retreating heels of two bears that were trotting through the dense underwood. One of these brutes, feeling that it was pursued, turned quickly round, and immediately jumped upon the muzzle of my gun, which I fired into its stomach and rolled it over. I now heard my brother shouting my name at only a few yards' distance; running towards him, as I feared some accident, I found a large bear half lying and half sitting upon the ground, growling and biting at the hard-wood loading-rod which V. Baker had thrust into a bullet wound behind its shoulder; he seemed surprised that the bear would not die at once. This was exceedingly dangerous, as the animal might have recovered sufficient strength to have directed an attack at an unguarded moment. Having a heavy hunting-knife of 3 lbs. weight, I gave it a blow across the skull, which cleft it to the brain and terminated its struggles. This was exactly the occasion upon which an accident might have occurred, and when a spear would have been of use.