The Grizzly, Our Greatest Wild Animal. Enos A. Mills

both were digging, there was a whir of wings and a sweep of shadows, and a flock of white ptarmigan alighted among broken ledges near by. While I was watching them, a flock of mountain sheep came along the out-thrusting ridge and paused to play for a few moments on the sky-line. In pairs they faced, then reared up and sparred with their horns; they cut lively circles around one another. A rugged, snowy peak loomed grim behind the scene, and the dense forest spread away for miles below. The bears, the ptarmigan, and the sheep, the white peak, the purple forest, and the blue sky gave me a striking experience and left a splendid picture. As I turned to go, the cub was giving all his attention to the play of the sheep.

      The almost continual play of the cubs is a never-ending source of interest. They race, they wrestle, they box, and they play hide and seek with utmost enthusiasm. They climb upon mother’s back, they swat and pummel her and maul her. She will endure this by the hour with absolute indifference. Mother sometimes plays with the cubs but more often lets them play with her, or, unconcerned, simply watches them in their scrambles.

      Playing cubs are strikingly boylike in their ways. They tumble and roll about with lively energy. Their boxing is a ludicrously earnest show. Standing up they clinch, struggle, break away and watch for a new advantage. They strike first with one paw, then with the other, then with both at once. They come close, dodge, and jump back; they hold one paw high and the other low; sometimes they guard the face with one arm while striking with the other. Often they strike wildly, evidently intending to miss; they bristle up, growl, and have great fun, pretending to be more in earnest and terrible than they really are.

      No two boys ever had more excitement and fun swimming in a river than did two cub bears whom I once watched. These cubs raced, splashed, and pushed one another under the water. They dived and swam beneath the surface and from a bowlder plunged into it with terrific splashes, sometimes forward, sometimes backward.

      One of the happiest incidents which I have seen in the grizzly bear world was a mother grizzly who had discovered some honey in a standing dead tree, perhaps five or six feet above the ground. Tearing open the edges of the hole, she helped herself to a quantity of the honey, then called her two cubs, who were playing a short distance away. They needed no second invitation when they saw mother standing on hind legs and leaning forward with fore paws against the trunk of the tree. Up the incline of her back they raced merrily, and, standing upon mother’s head, they ate with eagerness this wonderful feast of honey.

      The cubs den up with their mother the winter following their birth. The mother is their companion until they are a year and a half old, sometimes longer. During their second summer she commonly leaves the cub—or cubs, as the case may be—to make their way in the world alone. Once the family ties are broken, the grizzly is seldom seen with other bears.

      If two, three, or four in number, the yearlings run together another year, and are chummy and inseparable. One becomes the leader and is followed faithfully. If trouble arises, they are united and devoted little people. To kill or injure one of the youngsters means that a hunter is promptly charged by the others, and often killed or injured.

      The cubs are great ramblers. They may wander through unoccupied regions and over the territory of other bears. They are not considered intruders by other bears. There are numerous interesting incidents in the companionship of these year-olds, and sometimes of two-year-olds, who have explored miles of territory, chased animals, played, and enjoyed themselves together, and in moments of danger united and fought the enemy. Yearling bears den up together the second winter and occasionally also the third winter. Generally, however, after the second winter, that is to say, when two and a half years old, they separate. From this time on the grizzly lives alone.

      Where does he make his first home? Sometimes the young grizzly crowds into the territory adjoining his birthplace, but at other times he must wander far away to find territory not already occupied. In the past, when grizzlies were numerous, the increased population each year must have compelled readjustments and forced a reduction of the area claimed by each individual. But in these times, except perhaps in two or three National Parks, there are thousands of square miles here and there over the West without a grizzly on them. But the grizzly is fond of his home territory, and in it, except for occasional visits into the outside world, he spends his life.

His Exclusive Territory

       Table of Contents

      A mother grizzly and her year-and-a-half-old cub came shuffling along the shore of a little lake in the No-Summer Mountains. Where a brook flowed into the lake she stopped, looked at the cub, and possibly grunted something to him. She may have said, "Here, Johnny, is a territory not claimed by other bears; this is to be your domain." I watched him as she went ambling away alone. He stood looking at the ground for several seconds, then turned to see his mother in the distance, and finally surveyed his surroundings. Pushed off into the world to shift for himself, the cub walked up the mountain-side and disappeared in the woods.

      I had seen this cub and his mother on the other side of the Medicine Bow Mountains, at least fifty miles away. When I saw her leaving the cub to make his way alone, I wanted to ask, “Is it common for a mother grizzly to take her children to the territory that is to be their home?” The selection of this domain may sometimes be made by the mother but most often, probably, it is made by the cubs.

      But, selection of the home territory aside, the grizzly leads a solitary life; he lives apart from other bears, has his thought, his work, his recreation, and his play by himself. Alone he hunts for food, alone he wanders for adventure. Singly he fights his foes, and in solitude he dens up in winter. A possible explanation of this may lie in the fact that being alone is an advantage to an animal of his size and enormous food-requirements. Then, too, since the advent of the white man with the long-range rifle, it is an advantage to act singly. The grizzly’s solitary habit may be one which is an advantage in the perpetuation of the species. Only twice have I known of father, mother, and cubs being seen together, and I have never heard of their denning together.

      A grizzly has his own home territory. He claims the exclusive use of certain lands. In only one instance have I known two companion grizzlies to occupy the same region permanently. These two were often seen eating, traveling, and resting near each other. Though the grizzly wanders off the home territory for an occasional visit, in it through the seasons and through the years he makes his living; he defends it against invaders, and in it he commonly dies.

      Most wild creatures have their home territories, areas which they claim the right to use to the exclusion of others of the same species. The bear is likely to hold more territory than any other kind of life; and he will dominate in the territory all kinds of life that may temporarily conflict with his use of it. Most birds and beasts use their large or tiny bit of earth in pairs, flocks, herds, or colonies. The grizzly uses his alone. His domain may be in part the claimed territory of other species; lions, beavers, wolves, eagles, and other life may use it.

      The grizzly bear is the aristocrat of the wilds. He is lordly and reserved. He will meet a bighorn sheep or other wild animal, and, though aware of its presence, pay no apparent attention to it. If near another bear, either a black or a grizzly, while appearing to be disinterested, or pretending not to have seen him, he is in fact watching the other’s movements. A black bear avoids him. Sometimes two grizzlies who have been feeding near each other deliberately meet, or come face to face. Each, with admirable acting, feigns intense surprise that the other is there. They bristle up, exchange a few unfriendly roars and growls, make a threatening move or two, and then go on. Sometimes they pass as though unconscious of each other’s presence.

      A network of trails extends over the grizzly’s mountain home. These reach food-supply centres, lookout and resting stations, swimming-holes, and other places often visited. Generally when going anywhere the grizzly follows a trail; if pursued, he is most certain to do so. Many of these trails are dim, but others are deeply worn. He may sometimes make a new trail, but in general he follows the old ones which have been used by generations of bears. His domain may be crossed by other wild-life trails, which he may or may not use.

      Topography,