by Terry Grosz
***
The next morning found the men working northerly on the Musselshell River, in and around its many tributaries. There, they set out eighteen beaver traps per group of trappers. One man would set his share of the traps as the other two partners would sit quietly on their horses standing guard. Then they would change off when it was another trapper’s turn to set traps. The work went rapidly, and soon the beaver were flowing once again back into the men’s cabin. However, as Josh had said, there truly seemed to be more griz out and about earlier that spring on the waterways seeking food chiefly where the men plowed through the heavy brush and waded along the creeks and riverbanks looking for the best places to set their traps. Sign was everywhere, and soon the men found themselves on extra high alert, especially in the thick brushy areas alongside the beaver ponds.
“Look out, Gabe!” shouted Josh. With that warning, Gabe quickly unlimbered his rifle and pointed it at a huge grizzly bear rising up on his hind legs in the willows trying to wind what was making the noise not far from his day bed. Fortunately for the moment, Gabe was downwind as he sloshed around in the nearby waters to set a trap. Whooof-whooof! snorted the great bear as he finally got a swirl of wind from Gabe and didn’t like what he was smelling. Boom-boom! went the rifles of Josh and One-Shot as they touched them off almost in unison. There was immediate reaction from the bear as he felt the smashing pain of two heavy rifle balls hitting him in the neck and shoulder. Instantly, the willows in which the bear had been standing previously were now being violently thrashed back and forth as the downed bear crashed madly about in agony. In his intense pain, the bear splashed water and willow leaves every which way but loose in his soon-to-be death throes!
Gabe, in the meantime, sprinted up out from the beaver pond no longer interested in making a trap set. Once on the bank, he lunged for the protection his horse offered. But Gabe’s horse, spooked over the sounds the bear was making, the two close-at- hand rifle shots, and now a charging Gabe running right at him from the dense brush, reared in terror. Then the horse whirled and stampeded off into the timber! Now without any means of escape, Gabe headed for a nearby pine tree as the great bear came crashing out of the willows, spewing frothy blood from his open and roaring mouth. Perceiving movement from Gabe just feet away, the great maddened bear instantly charged! Boom-boom! went Josh and One-Shot’s reserve rifles and this time with better results.
One ball struck the bear in the stomach area causing the bear to stop his charge and bite at the offending pain in his side. The other ball, from Josh’s rifle, smashed into the bear’s right shoulder finally breaking the bone. Crashing to the ground, the bear was up on his hind legs in an instant, once again roaring in pain and anger.
Meanwhile, Gabe finally got to his horse, grabbed his rifle, turned, aimed, and pulled the trigger for a snap shot at the standing bear. Kapooof! went his rifle in a misfire! Grabbing his reserve rifle from his madly scrambling and badly terrorized pack mule, he managed to untie the leather straps holding that rifle on the saddle, turned, and quickly fired at the bear. Boom! went his rifle, as the speeding ball went into the bear’s open mouth and blew out part of his spine as it exited its body. Down the bear went, moving his last as a great pool of blood poured from his open mouth. Soon, the bear lay still in a patch of soil covered in foamy bright redness. Both Josh and One-Shot, not trusting what they were seeing, were in the process of hurriedly reloading both of their rifles with shaking hands over the close call...
Finally settling down his horse, Gabe tied him off in the timber and then with reloaded rifle in hand, carefully approached the huge mound of bear lying to his front. It was a huge boar grizzly and if the numerous shots hadn’t taken their toll when they did, Gabe might have been the angry animal’s next victim...
“Well, Brother, looks like you escaped that one,” said a much-relieved Josh.
“Damn, that be for sure,” said One-Shot as he poked the mass of bear with the business end of the barrel of his cocked and ready-to-go rifle.
“You got that right,” smiled a much-relieved Gabriel, as he, too, poked the great bear with the business end of his rifle for good measure ... just in case.
“Well, you two can keep jawing if you like but we still have some traps to set and I suggest we get it done,” said a happy over the recent turn of events Joshua.
After setting the remaining traps Gabe had left in his sack, the men returned to the bear. While One-Shot cut several hell-for- stout lodgepole pine trees to make a travois for their pack mule, Gabe and Josh commenced gutting and butchering out the bear.
“You boys be sure and save the liver, heart, kidneys, and as much of his fat that you can,” growled One-Shot emerging from the timber just as Gabe and Josh threw the bear’s gut pile off to one side. “Them parts be some of the bestest eatin’ goin’,” he continued.
With those words, Josh dug around in the bear’s gut pile and retrieved the kidneys, heart, and liver. Then he cut off many of the great gobs of the bear’s intestine fat, which was surprising for that time of the year; bear are usually in poor shape in the springtime after hibernation. Those retrieved parts he sat on a nearby flat rock to remain clean of dirt and pine needles. Taking the skin—it was too rubbed to make a fine pelt and would eventually be tossed—and placing it hair side down, Gabe and Josh cut small slits in the hide and tied it between the travois poles. Once done, Gabe placed all the organ meats and gobs of fat onto the hide. That was followed with the bear’s huge hams and shoulders being loaded onto the travois as well. The pack animal pulling the travois kept rolling its eyes over the obvious close- at-hand, strong bear smell. Gabe, realizing the pack animal’s discomfort over its natural enemy, kept comforting it as he held its head to assure the animal the bear did not have mule on its menu...
Arriving back at camp before the others returned that afternoon, the boys hooped their beaver plews. One-Shot trimmed the hams and shoulders of all their fat for the smoking process that was to follow. Finished, he began careful preparation of the organ meats, some of his favorites, for supper. When done with their beaver plew-hooping detail, the boys pitched in and made up three Dutch ovens of bannock bread, a type of Dutch-oven flat- bread. That was followed with a big pot of coffee and a kettle of beans that had been soaking all day and now being set on the fire to cook. Breaking out another cast iron pot, One-Shot began rendering out the numerous gobs of bear fat into a light, sweetsmelling oil, a process in which Gabe and Josh looked on and learned. They had done the same in their earlier lives with cattle and hogs but never thought of the many uses that came from rendered bear fat.
A shout from the timber told the three cooks that the rest of the crew was on their way in. It also advised they had better have the grub ready to go because their “big guts would be eating their little guts,” they would be so hungry. When the group arrived, One-Shot had to tell and retell the great bear story as the men gobbled down the fried bear liver, heart, kidneys, beans, bannock bread, and hot coffee. Afterwards, everyone pitched in and finished hooping out that group’s beaver plews with much discussion over the day’s events. Then they all headed to their sleeping furs after partaking in a short pipeful of smoking tobacco. The day had been long and stressful because everyone had been on their highest alert over the increased Indian and bear activity. As a result, their buckskins were dragging on the ground as they carried their last parts over the fence into the cabin... Little did anyone realize what effect killing the great bear and careless field processing would have on the next day’s trapping run for Gabe, Josh and One-Shot...
Gabe was in the lead the next day because it was his turn to run his portion of the trap line. Almost half-asleep under the late morning’s warm sun, combined with the gentle rocking motion of the horse, the trappers ambled up to the site of the previous day’s bear killing.
Urrrrrroar! went another grizzly bear as it rose up on its hind legs from its meal eating the remains of yesterday’s grizzly. That was followed with another griz standing
up alongside the first one as Gabe’s horse quickly bucked him off, lock, stock and barrel! Josh’s horse, upon seeing the bears, began to snort and crow hop at the closeness of the two bears, as did One-Shot’s. The trappers now found themselves afoot in Gabe’s case or trying to stay in their saddles on the pitching “hurricane decks” of two very excited riding horses in One-Shot’s and Josh’s cases! As for the pack animal that Josh was trailing, it had jerked its lead rope from Josh’s hand and was now long gone...
Getting groggily to his feet after being tossed, Gabe tried to fire his rifle at the closest bear only to find that the impact with the ground when he fell had bent the hammer on the lock of his rifle. It was now incapable of firing! As the closest feeding grizzly charged, Gabe found himself running for his life as he headed for the nearest tree. As it turned out, Gabe’s horse beat him to the tree and line of timber. Josh, on the other hand, stepped off the pitching hurricane deck of his now-spooked horse, drew down on the grizzly charging his brother and snapped off a shot. As luck would have it, the .52-caliber slug struck the charging grizzly, whose open mouth was just feet from Gabe’s flying rear end, in the ear hole, killing it instantly! However, that left him with an empty rifle and his reserve rifle now on his rapidly leaving the scene, pack animal... That now left only his .69-caliber, single-shot pistol for defense in the face of the other now-charging yearling grizzly. That hopeless situation quickly found Josh heading for the nearest set of trees as well... One-Shot, however, still had his horse under him and had gotten him somewhat under control. Seeing this was no place from which to accurately shoot, he gingerly stepped off, keeping his rifle in hand and grabbing his reserve in the downward step from his still trailing pack animal. Standing one rifle quickly alongside his leg, he snapped off a shot at the yearling grizzly now fast closing on Josh’s hind end in his run for the closest timber at hand.
Boom! went his rifle and the grizzly bear bellowed in instant pain, as the ball broke its right front shoulder. Standing on its hind legs, the bear turned from chasing Josh and faced the direction from which came the firing sound of a rifle. Doing so only greeted the grizzly with a carefully placed shot in its right eye, dropping it instantly to the ground. Hurriedly reloading, One-Shot walked up to the still-wiggling bear he had just “eye” shot and placed a pistol round into the bear’s brain case making sure it was dead.
Slowly, Gabe and Josh came down from their trees as their two still-terrified horses and pack mule were retrieved by One-Shot from the surrounding landscape. Josh had to walk almost clear back to the cabin before he caught his pack animal. The pack animal, if he had his say after the bear scare, was heading for the “barn.” Returning, Josh discovered that One-Shot and Gabe had both bears skinned out, another travois built, all the edible parts saved, and big grins of relief on their faces. When all was said and done, Gabe moved his trap line over into the next set of beaver ponds to avoid another hungry gut pile-eating bear incident the following day. To his way of thinking, one learned on the frontier or fast became bear bait or the infamous hair-filled scat pile...
Loading their fresh beaver skins on the bear-hauling travois after skinning out the beaver carcasses, the men tiredly headed for home. In the process, they ran across two more grizzly bears too busy feasting on the many mussels in the river to be a bother. But, it was still a good lesson for all concerned as to remaining alert at all times particularly as they rode along a river so full of mussels that the bear dearly loved eating.
***
Back at their cabin, the men met the rest of their contingent with the exception of Jim Johnson. It seemed he had returned to their old trapping grounds to ascertain if it was safe to continue trapping in that area. When asked about the wisdom of going back into an Indian’s “hornet’s nest” alone, Big-Eye said Jim wanted it that way because it left less shod horse tracks for the Indians to discover in their travels and once discovered, after backtracking, would more than likely lead to troubles for the trappers. Hence Jim’s trip alone.
Then the casual talk centered around the number of grizzlies the other group had seen that day. They had been fortunate and had seen five before being observed. Al advised, with an easy laugh, that all the bear that they had seen that day had been eating in the river’s numerous beds of mussels and didn’t seem interested in eating tough old and smelly trappers...
Later that evening at dusk, Jim quietly entered the trappers’ camp with the news that the Indians were still camped in their old trapping area, but the meadow’s grass was almost all eaten out because of the Indians’ large pony herd. As such, he felt it would only be a matter of days before they moved on. A week later, the Blackfeet encampment moved on to better grazing and buffalo hunting grounds and the trappers were able to return to their old trapping sites. Before they did, Jim had discovered a small valley to the south that was loaded with beaver ponds and numerous small feeder streams. In scouting out the area, he discovered they were loaded with the furry critter. He felt it would be a good plan if the entire group headed for that area the next day and trapped it out in one quick action. Also, because of the recent incursion of the Blackfeet encampment, he felt it would be a safer thing to stay in one large group in case they happened to run into any of the earlier Blackfeet campers still in country.
The next morning found the trappers once again working in two groups of three trappers for the protection they offered in case anyone ran across the killing Blackfeet or the always on-edge, usually grumpy, and difficult-to-kill grizzly bears. That day found Gabe, One-Shot and Josh working numerous small feeder streams leading into the beaver-heavy pond areas. That left Jim, Al and Big-Eye working the adjacent beaver ponds so their efforts were not overlapping.
Josh had just finished laying his first trap at the end of a large, well-used beaver slide surrounded by many recently cut smaller aspens. Sitting up on the nearby bank on their horses, One-Shot and Gabe were carefully eyeballing the surroundings. Just as Josh started driving his trap stake into the deepwater with his hand ax, a sow grizzly with two yearling cubs burst out from the close-at-hand dense stands of willows with a loud uuurrrroar!
Slamming right into the side of One-Shot’s horse, the bear broke his horse’s neck with one swipe of her powerful paw. Before One-Shot could jump from the saddle, the dead horse rolled over on its side, pinning him underneath. In a split second, the grizzly, now with her yearling cubs in van, ran over to the still-kicking horse, grabbed One-Shot by the head and jerked him out from under his horse like a rag doll! Snap! like a rifle shot went One-Shot’s neck as the bear threw his body high into the air. And when One-Shot hit the ground, she was on him in an instant. Both yearlings as well joined in on mauling the now- lifeless body of One-Shot!
Josh ran out from the water and grabbed one of his rifles off his madly “crow-hopping” horse. Boom! went Gabe’s shot with the heavy rifle slug slamming into one of the yearlings mauling One-Shot’s body. That well-placed shot killed it instantly with a high spine shot from about fifteen feet away! Boom! went Josh’s rifle and a micro-second later, his .52-caliber lead ball smashed into the sow grizzly who was still worrying One-Shot’s now badly mangled body. That shot broke the shoulder of the now-terribly enraged grizzly bear. Rolling back, she stood on her hind feet with a dangling broken left front leg bellowing out her rage. It was at that instant her remaining yearling also stood up alongside the sow, only to step into the path of Gabe’s second speeding bullet from his reserve rifle. That shot broke the yearling’s neck in a shot meant for “mom.”
With that, the sow tried to charge in the direction from whence that shot had just come. However, Josh managed to pick up One-Shot’s rifle off his dead horse and shoot her in her good front shoulder. Now that shoulder was broken as well. The men now had a sow grizzly bear on the ground, unable to charge because both of her front shoulders had been smashed by the heavy rifle slugs. Standing on her hind legs, only now howling in both rage and pain, she looked at the two men with her angry red eyes.
&n
bsp; It was then that Josh took careful aim with One-Shot’s reserve rifle—most Mountain Men carried two rifles if they could afford it because each rifle of the day was only capable of firing one shot at a time. That time, Josh shot her in her open and now-madly frothing mouth. Boom! went the rifle. All that shot did was blow out a mess of teeth and smash her jaw that was not a mortal wound! Sensing movement to her left, the sow tried to walk towards Gabe on her hind feet just as he had finished reloading his rifle. Boom! went his killing shot and the great bear, after dropping on top of her dead yearling, moved no more. Both Gabe and Josh hurriedly reloaded their rifles and then carefully approached the dead bears.
Two more “just to make sure” shots reverberated across the valley floor as the men made sure there were no further threats from the pile of now-cooling grizzly bears.
It was only then that Jim, Al and Big-Eye hurriedly entered the scene from across the way after hearing all the frenzied shooting in the nearby willows. Reining up, Jim sailed off his horse and holding his rifle at the ready, covered Josh and Gabe as they finished reloading their rifles once again. Al and Big-Eye stepped off their horses as well, and seeing One-Shot lying on the ground, ran to his side with their rifles at the ready. Al, upon seeing One-Shot’s poor state, handed his rifle to Big-Eye and kneeling down, tried to find any life in his old friend. Then looking at One-Shot’s grossly twisted neck and deep fang marks on his crushed head and neck, looked up to Big-Eye and Jim. Sadly, he just shook his head, as moisture filled the tough old Mountain Man’s eyes over the loss of his dear friend. By then, Josh and Gabe had also arrived where One-Shot’s twisted body lay and one look said it all!
