Bears Beware

A. Sayward Lamb

Most of us are still enjoying summertime come the month of August, but bear hunting in Maine, over bait, starts during the last few days of the month. I believe this year there will be an extra surge of bear hunters, due to the fact that groups, opposed to this type of hunting, have been able to obtain enough signatures to bring an article to voters, which would ban this type of bear hunting. A statewide referendum will be held during the November elections. This leads some officials to believe that some hunters may be afraid this year will be the last one for this type of bear hunting in Maine, if the referendum passes. I have read several articles regarding the pros and cons of this method of bear hunting.

I believe if the article to ban bear hunting over bait is to be defeated, it will take considerable effort of the part of all hunters, as well as others, who favor keeping bear hunting as it presently is. Personally, I have never participated in this type of hunting, because it just doesn’t seem to be my type of hunting. This probably explains why, in all my years of hunting, that I have never had the opportunity to shoot a bear. I have seen bears in the woods on many occasions, but not when I was carrying a gun while hunting during the deer season in November, when bears are legal game.

Several years ago, I had already harvested my deer early during the week that I had off from work. With several days left to hunt I decided to see if I could find a location where the bears were frequenting. I found that place on the top of a mountain in Woodstock, Maine about four miles from my home. The area I was hunting in was on a ridge covered with oak trees. That year was a good mast crop year and there were plenty of acorns on the ground, all over the top of that ridge. It was a very steep climb to get to the top of the mountain, but I decided I had plenty of time to enjoy the climb, so I made plans to go up on the ridge and scout around for bear signs. During deer season, I had also hunted that same ridge for deer, and during that time I noticed a few bear signs, so I decided it was as good a place as any to check it out again, now that I had gotten my deer.

My friend, Milt Inman, had also tagged his deer, so I called him up on the telephone and asked if he would like to go bear hunting with me. Milt agreed to go with me the following morning. We started out for South Woodstock quite early, as we knew we had a long, hard hike to get to the ridge on the top of the mountain. We both had our deer, so now we intended to enjoy being out in the woods. If a bear come around that area, and we were fortunate enough to see one, all the better, but our main interest was just to be out in the woods together, enjoying each others company and observing the surroundings of that beautiful countryside.

It was a little after seven in the morning before we got to the top of the ridge, and I was pleased to find even more, and fresher bear signs than I had seen while I had been deer hunting in the same area a few days before. Both of us had brought lunches along because we intended to spend most of the day up amongst the oaks, which were fairly open, so we had good visibility as we watched, hoping a bear would come out to feed. It was sort of overcast and cool that day, but we were dressed for cool weather. Milt and I would sit for awhile and then do some still-hunting, scouting for fresh bears signs, and when we found a suitable place, we go on a stand for awhile. We spent the greater part of the day sitting around, but to no avail, and just before sunset, we headed down the mountain for the long hike back to our vehicle. Before Milt left my house, we decided to go back and try our luck in that same area the following day.

When I awoke the following morning I could hear the wind howling through the trees. I looked out and it was blowing in strong gusts. I called up Milt and told him I did not like to hunt in strong winds, as I had never had any luck in that sort of weather. I always felt that game was a lot more edgy and nervous under those conditions, so decided that I would stay home. Milt said he was about ready to go, and told me he was going back, regardless of the strong winds. I wished him luck, and personally, I didn’t feel that Milt would have any more than a good hike up the mountain.

Later that day I got a call from Milt asking me if I would like to see his bear?
I said, ” Good Lord, Milt, don’t tell me you shot a bear on a day like this?” Milt only said a simple “Yes”, so I headed to his house to see his prize. When I arrived I could see how proud Milt was to have shot his first bear, even though it was not a large one. I guessed it dressed out at about one hundred to a hundred and twenty-five pounds, but I never learned if he weighed it or not, so I can’t be sure of its weight.

Milt filled me in on the details, and said he was sitting on top of the ridge, watching a nearby opening, when he noticed the bear approaching. He watched it for a short time and then when the bear turned, so he could get a suitable shot, he fired his rifle. That day Milt was carrying a .30 Caliber Carbine rifle. His shot hit the bear, which disappeared underneath the branches of an evergreen tree, and then laid still. Milt could see the bear, but realizing he was using a rather small caliber bullet, especially for bear, he chose to wait for awhile to be sure the bear was dead. If my memory serves me correctly, he waited about a half-hour before he got up his courage to walk over and check to see if the bear was dead. His shot had done its job, so now Milt had his work cut out for himself.

He dressed out the bear and then the laborious job of dragging it down the mountainside began. I don’t know how many of you have ever tried to tow a bear through the woods, but from what I have heard, they are very round and “roly-poly”, so it is very hard to get them to follow in the direction you want them to go. They tend to roll this way or that way, so towing consists also of grabbing the bear, and pulling it from around the back side of trees, brush, rocks, and other objects. I know it took Milt considerable time to get the bear down the mountain to a wood road, where he could tow it, and have it follow along behind him, without getting caught up on some obstruction. Milt told me he was very glad it was a smaller sized bear, because he never would have been able to tow one any larger than the one he got.

Milt had the bear mounted into a rug, with the head attached. The fur was simply a beautiful glossy black, and the taxidermist did an excellent job. For awhile I believe Milt had it beside his bed, but later on he used it as a wall hanging.

I always felt I made a bad decision that windy day, because I sure missed out on the action on that very windy November day when Milt shot his first bear on the top of that very windy mountain.