A Life Wasted

The Bear

The bear thoroughly frightened us so we ran back to the trail, which was about two hundred yards from our campsite. When we found the trail it was using the flash light, and lucky that we noticed it. It was full dark by this point. As we stood there catching our breath I looked towards our campsite and listened, praying the bear wasn't chasing us. It didn't take me long to realize how dangerous our situation was. If the bear did chase us we'd be nearly defenseless. Though the lumbering beast didn't look fast, I knew a bear could out run a man. I also knew bears had a keen sense of smell. If it wanted to track us it could. It would have plenty of time to track us since it was a long way to the road on a trail that had been difficult to see in daylight. Following the trail by flashlight would be impossible, even if the flashlight lasted all night, which it wouldn't. Before the night was over we'd be lost in the woods with no light. We were tired before the bear appeared, and now that the original adrenaline rush had worn off, we were feeling even more fatigued.

I don't recall my complete thought process but I do remember acknowledging to myself that I was terrified of the bear. Almost unnaturally so. I have never scared easily, but the bear scared me. I assumed my fear was based on the bear I encountered in North Georgia as a kid. That was a pitch dark night too. Were I alone I would have tried to run, but Mary's reassuring squeeze of my hand reminded me I was not alone. In my other hand I hefted the hatchet and decided what I had to do.

I figured it would be difficult for a bear that size to climb a small tree because of its weight and girth, so I found a solid tree with an eight inch diameter, then I cleared off all the dead low branches to make it easier for Mary to climb. I handed her the flashlight and told her my plan and what I wanted to do. I explained that the bear might have been scared of the fire so hadn't entered our camp. I didn't believe this was the case, but it's what I told my wife. I told her that if the bear was in the camp I would leave it alone. If she heard anything, or if I shouted at her to do so, she was to climb the tree as high as she could and stay there until daylight, then follow the trail to the road and get help. Under no circumstances was she to return to the camp without me coming back to get her. Mary didn't like my plan one bit. Today she would call bull shit and tell me I'd lost my mind. She would put her foot down and say no, to which I would have no choice but to lay on my back with my paws in the air in submission. But we'd only been married twenty-three hours and she was determined to be an obedient wife, so she agreed. I took the hatchet and my metal camp plate and a vague notion that the bear might be startled by noise.

We were too far from the camp to see our fire so I went in the camp's general direction until I spotted its light. Moving as quietly as possible I eased up on the camp. I smelled the bear before I heard it, then heard it before I saw it. I couldn't see it until I was just outside of the fire's glow. The bear had already scattered the contents of Mary's backpack and eaten what he wanted out of it. From the distance I could see debris from the bear's meal but what stood out were a dozen opened packets of Swiss Miss hot chocolate that had been licked clean, and a peanut butter lid with ragged glass attached. It appeared the bear had held the lid then ate peanut butter and glass. As I watched he approached the tent, which looked untouched. He growled at the tent like he thought we might be hiding inside, then took a swat at it with his claw. What looked like a soft stroke with his paw ripped a gash down the side of our tent. He sniffed at the opening, then ignored the tent.

I kept watching as he moved slowly around the camp acting bored and ready to move on. In the time I watched he'd been down on all four legs and moving so slow he seemed lethargic. Between that and the molting state of his coat I began to think he might be sick. This thought encouraged me so I decided to try to scare it off. I had expected the hatchet against thin metal plate to be louder, but a symbol it was not. I added my voice, careful not to holler too loud least Mary think me mauled. I made plenty of noise but the bear didn't so much as glance in my direction. I had hopped he'd run off, thought he might chase me, but didn't expect him to ignore me. When I gave up on noise as a weapon the bear had his back to me and was swaying back and forth with out moving from his position. Looked like me when I try to dance.