Grizzly Killer: The Making of a Mountain Man Page 4

  I had seen cat tracks up and down the stream and had run a trapline a few miles upstream and had started to get a few bobtailed cats. I wasn’t sure what they would bring at Rendezvous, but I could get them, and it kept me busy. I figured it was gonna be a few weeks still before the streams started to open up for the spring trappin’ season to really start.

  I had that moose and those wolf hides tanned now, and the thick hide from the moose’s neck and chest made real tough soles for my moccasins. I had made a coat of the wolves usin’ my capote for an inner lining, and it was right warm, and I was right proud of the way it looked. I had an awl from Pa’s harness repair kit, but with as much sewin’ as I had been doin’, I had it ground down to just a stub, keepin’ the point sharp, and was goin’ to need another one come rendezvous.

  I was alone, but I’d grown to love this country and had started to think of it as home. I had never had better friends than Jimbo and Red. I kept workin’ with Jimbo every day, teachin’ him to obey my every command. We worked on hand signals more than voice commands, and I swear that dog could read my thoughts. I never saw a dog of his size or his smarts before. Sometimes I think he knew what I was thinkin’ ’fore I did. I guess he wasn’t satisfied with just what I was givin’ him to eat, ’cause he got in the habit of goin’ out just before light and catchin’ a rabbit or two, sometimes squirrels, and he would have them for his breakfast. But he never turned down any food I gave him either. I believe he could eat a whole deer haunch at one time if I’d let him.

  He got so he could smell the trail of a cat and followed it until he treed him. So I brought in the ten traps I had out and would saddle Ol’ Red, and we’d all go huntin’ those cats. That was a lot more fun than just settin’ traps. I had made rifle scabbards, one for each side of the saddle, so’s I could carry all three rifles, one on each side of Red so’s both was easy to reach, and I always carried one across the saddle. I still had in the back of my mind them Snakes comin’ back for some revenge when spring came around.

  One mornin’ in late winter—late February, I figured, ’cause I had started to mark off the days on a quakie branch in the dugout at Christmas—I was just gettin’ dressed, and I heard Jimbo get on the trail of a cat up the stream a ways. So I threw the saddle on Red, and off we went. I had gotten in the habit of carryin’ my .36-caliber squirrel gun after these cats, so I didn’t damage the hide as much by just shootin’ them at the base of the ear, so that was what I had across the saddle. When I got maybe a mile or so above the dugout, I could hear one heck of a ruckus way up ahead. I urged Red a little faster, when out of the willows along the creek up ahead of me, I saw Jimbo come hightailin’ it right toward me and then a grizzly right behind him. Now Jimbo could outrun anything I had seen up to now but an antelope, but that grizzly was stayin’ right with him. I gave Jimbo a hand signal to go off the other side of the creek, but he must have thought that grizzly was more important than mindin’ me, ’cause he just kept comin’ right down the trail toward me. Ol’ Red must have figured the fix we was gonna be in mighty quick, ’cause when I jerked the reins around, he spun on his hind legs and took off like he was shot out of a cannon. I just ’bout come out of the saddle and was holdin’ on for dear life as we went tearin’ down that narrow trail through the snow. After a quarter mile, that bear must have figured he had showed us who was boss, ’cause he stopped his charge, turned off, and headed up the hill.

  We kept up a pretty good pace all the way back, and I think all three of us was a might shook up. I respected Pa as a mountain man more that anyone I ever met, and I’d seen what that devil grizzly had done to him. I knew we had us a real troublesome thing, with a grizzly livin’ that close. I knew the black bears back home were mighty hungry and cantankerous when they first came out of their dens in the spring, and it appeared these big ol’ grizzlies were the same, only they would make three or four of the black bears. This grizzly had come out of his den a few weeks early, and food was gonna be mighty scarce.

  I kept a real close watch for the next couple of weeks by ridin’ circles around the dugout out a mile or two, lookin’ for tracks. The snow was meltin’ off pretty quick, with days gettin’ so much warmer. I was startin’ to see the game come back as well after they had spent the winter downstream on the flats closer to Smith’s Fork and the Seeds-Kee-Dee.

  Then one day toward the middle of March, I saw tracks of six or seven horses just over the ridge to the west, maybe five miles from the dugout. As Jimbo sniffed around, he had a real low growl comin’ from down in his chest. Since I had no desire to go up against that many Injuns and figurin’ how they was probably Snakes maybe lookin’ for revenge, I backed off the trail and covered our tracks the best I could and went off back to the east. Then comin’ down the ridge above the dugout, I saw the track of that grizzly. I checked the prime in the pan of the Hawken and started to follow his tracks. I found where he had stood ’bout a quarter mile from the dugout and watched just that mornin’. The hair was up all along Jimbo’s back, and he was payin’ real close attention. I knew then I had to do something to get rid of this ol’ bear.

  That night Ol’ Red started to kick up a fuss. I grabbed the Hawken and set Pa’s rifle on the outside of the dugout and built up the fire outside. Jimbo just paced and growled, and Red would snort, and that went on most of the night.

  Just ’fore light, I saddled Red, and we headed for a ridge across the valley where I had been seein’ a few elk come out and graze the past few mornin’s and set up behind some rocks and waited till light. Just at the crack of dawn, I could see three of them start grazin’, workin’ their way from the trees along the ridge to the flat just below me. When they got in range, I fired, and a yearlin’ cow dropped. I got Red, and we dragged that elk back across the valley, and I set her just off the stream where there was still a good-sized patch of snow under an outcroppin’ of rock that I figured would make a good spot to ambush that bear. I sliced her open and spread her guts around some. I figured I would get set up just before dark and wait.

  Since none of us had slept all night, we went back to the dugout and tried to get some sleep. I was some worried ’bout the horse tracks we’d seen, but I knew Jimbo and Red would alert me if anyone came near. Knowin’ I may be awake all night again, I went right to sleep. I was up a few hours ’fore dark and took Red out to the meadow to graze. The grass was poor. There were new shoots just startin’ to grow, but it would still be a few weeks before the grass was good again. But since that was all there was, Ol’ Red just munched away. I knew it was a risk, but I decided to leave Red out there on the meadow free tonight so he could run if need be. By now I figured he wouldn’t go far from home. The Injuns were a worry, but they had already felt his rage once, and for just one mule, I didn’t think they would be ready to try again.

  Me and Jimbo ate and got ready for the night. I carried all three rifles and the pistol. After the misfire on the wolves, I put a new flint in the pistol and had cleaned out the flash hole and had test fired it several times into a log so I could dig the lead out of the log and cast it again. It was still an hour or so ’fore dark when we got set up atop those rocks and found as good a place as I could find to shoot from. Jimbo just lay down by my side and didn’t move. I watched the Big Dipper move around the North Star ever so slowly. ’Bout midnight a pack of coyotes showed up and started in on the carcass, and ’bout an hour after that, three wolves came and drove off the coyotes. Jimbo just watched and never moved or made a sound. When I figured it should be gettin’ light and the wolves had left after eatin’ there fill, Jimbo just nudged my hand with his nose. He was starin’ right at the willows by the stream, with his ears straight ahead, and in a couple of minutes, I saw movement. That grizzly came out of the willows, swingin’ his big ol’ head back and forth, and just charged right up to that elk like he was darin’ anything to try to stop him.

  By now the moon had gone down, and I was havin’ a mighty hard time seein’ him in my sights, and I wanted a good shoulder sho
t. I had put an extra charge of powder in the Hawken, and by now, I knew it was an accurate-enough rifle. So I just waited, figurin’ it would be light enough in just a little while. Then that grizzly started to pull that carcass toward the willows, and I knew I could wait no longer. I sighted down along that barrel and squeezed off. The rifle bucked hard against my shoulder with that extra load of powder, and with the pan flash right in front of my eyes, I couldn’t see in the dark for a minute. I heard that bear roar and knew I had hit. I picked up the other rifle and noticed Jimbo was gone. Well, I could hear the bear and then Jimbo down there fightin’ him. When I could see good enough again, I fired Pa’s old rifle and went to reloadin’ the Hawken. I could see Jimbo was just keepin’ that bear from crawlin’ off toward the willows. That bear had a broke shoulder and couldn’t keep Jimbo off. I had the Hawken ready to fire again and yelled at Jimbo to back off. I fired again and knew I hit again. I loaded and fired as fast as I could five more times before that bear stopped movin’. Jimbo was there, just standin’ back, growlin’ when I got down there. It was just light enough now to see a good bit, and that bear was still breathin’, so I fired one more time right down between his shoulders, and the breath slowly eased out of him, and he moved no more.

  This grizzly wasn’t quite as big as the one that had killed Pa, but he was still a mighty big beast. I had him ’bout halfway skinned when Jimbo started to growl. I picked up the Hawken as I looked up, and there were seven Snake braves walkin’ their horses right toward us. They stopped out there quite a ways, and one of them raised his hand up in the sign of peace. I was standin’, and I raised my hand with the peace sign. Then I started to walk toward them to see just what they wanted. I had my rifle cocked and ready, ’cause I wasn’t really trustin’ of them after our last run-in. But as I moved toward them, they backed off, and I could see they didn’t want to get very close. I thought ’bout Red bein’ out in the meadow and wondered if they were just tryin’ to distract me like they’d done before.

  Then one of the braves very slowly started to walk his horse toward me. I could tell he was real nervous, and I wasn’t quite sure why they were since there were seven of them and only one of me. But he stopped his horse ’bout twenty-five yards out and yelled something. And I raised my hand in the peace sign again. He made the sign for grizzly and killer and pointed at me and yelled again. Then he made the big medicine sign and pointed at me. And I figured he was callin’ me Grizzly Killer and I had big medicine and they were afraid of me.

  I noticed then Jimbo had taken off, and he came sneakin’ up behind the others and just stopped there, lyin’ in the grass, waitin’ to see if I was gonna need help. I asked him if they wanted some meat and pointed to the bear. Then I walked back and started to slice off a haunch then thought maybe I could make peace with the skin. He got off his horse and slowly walked toward me and the bear. I asked for his help skinnin’ the rest of him, and then he waved to the others. As they approached, Jimbo came up from behind them, and I’d never seen a bunch of more nervous and surprised men.

  Jimbo came right up beside me, and I patted him on the head, and those seven braves just stood there in amazement. I asked again for help with the skinnin’, and they very slowly came over and started to help. I then gave Jimbo the hand sign to go fetch Red, and he took off on a dead run. Those braves looked back and forth at one another then at me. With the help, it didn’t take long to get the skinnin’ done, and when Red and Jimbo came runnin’ up, those braves were fallin’ all over one another, tryin’ to get away from Red. I walked over and rubbed Ol’ Red’s nose. When those Snake braves calmed down, I gave them the hide and more than half the meat off that grizzly. I made sure I kept the claws. When they were ready to leave, I made the sign for peace again. They made the sign for peace then big medicine. Then pointin’ to Jimbo and Red, they made the big medicine sign again. They then rode off. And I hoped I had no more trouble with the Snakes.

  Two days later, when I went out at first light, there were three horses in the corral, and the sign of the Snakes was painted on the corral gate post. Red or Jimbo had never made a sound all night.

  6 Bear River

  By now the streams were openin’ up, and I decided it was time to get a little trappin’ done ’fore I headed to Rendezvous. Rendezvous this year was gonna be in Willow Valley over on the Bear River. Me and Pa got the directions from other trappers before we left Rendezvous last summer. But I didn’t know for sure how long it would take to get there. So I figured to be on my way ’round the first of June.

  I spent the next few days gettin’ to know the horses those Snakes left me and teachin’ ’em to carry a pack saddle. There was a right pretty chestnut, a sorrel with three white socks, and a blue roan. Ol’ Red and me had made a mighty fine pair all winter, and I figured to just keep on with ridin’ him. I made up a third pack I could tie to Pa’s ridin’ saddle since I had only two packs. Then I dug another small cache up in the timber a ways above the dugout to store the items I didn’t need with me, like Pa’s traps, his bedroll, and the extra keg of powder. I packed what little flour and the last bit of salt pork I had left. I made sure my possibles bag was supplied and I had plenty of powder and lead. I was gettin’ short on patch cloth, so I couldn’t spare any to make up some charred cloth for my fire kit. I’d just have to keep some good, dry tinder with me instead.

  Next mornin’ I headed west toward the Bear River, figurin’ there would be plenty of trappin’ streams, and I wanted to get to know this country better. The country west of Black’s Fork was the foothills of the Bear River Mountains, and there were large areas of sage-covered hills with cottonwoods in the bottoms and patches of quakin’ aspen and pine. There were deer and elk out along the edges of trees at dawn and again in the evenin’, but they sure could disappear into the trees durin’ the day.

  I figured it to be around the first of April and, lookin’ up at those high peaks to the south still covered with snow, I knew it would still be a while ’fore the high country opened up. Jimbo would range way out in front, scoutin’ for trouble. I wondered at times if he did that for me or if he was just that curious. I camped the first night in a grove of cottonwoods down between two hills where a fire couldn’t be seen far off. I built a small fire up under the branches of a cottonwood so the branches would break up the smoke. I knew a man travelin’ alone in the wilds wasn’t real safe, but with Red and Jimbo there, I really didn’t feel alone. Lyin’ there in my bedroll that night, I was right glad I’d brought the grizzly robe. It was still gettin’ mighty cold at night. As the stars came out, I could hear a wolf howlin’ way up the ridge, and a little later, a pack of coyotes started their high-pitch yippin’ on a flat just below. All seemed right with the world as I went to sleep.

  I woke the next mornin’ just as the night sky was startin’ to gray along the eastern horizon. Jimbo had been out and had brought in a rabbit for his breakfast. Ol’ Red and the horses had been grazin’ most of the night, so I just packed up and chewed on some jerky as we headed out. I was just followin’ where the country led, goin’ around the hills and stayin’ off the skyline as much as possible. Just as the sun was gettin’ low enough in the sky and I was thinkin’ ’bout stoppin’ for the day, I topped a ridge, stayin’ in the trees. When I came out, I could see a good-sized stream just a few miles to the west and figured that was the Bear. I camped that night at the base of the ridge I’d first seen the Bear River, from where there was just a trickle of a stream. There was a warm breeze pickin’ up from the south, and I figured a storm would be comin’ in the next day or so. I roasted a pine hen that night that was just sittin’ on a branch right where I’d picked to camp, and I was able to get close enough I clubbed it with a stick.

  We moved out the next mornin’ just as the sun was appearing over the eastern ridge. The Injun ponies were gettin’ used to the routine and seemed to like goin’ just as much as the rest of us. Their packs were ’bout empty for now. I had the grub and camp supplies spread between them, giving
them a good chance to get used to packin’ before we headed to Rendezvous with all the plews. In the night, Jimbo pushed on my cheek with his wet nose, and I came awake instantly. I could hear the horses movin’ around some, and then Red snorted, and I heard Jimbo start after something. I wasn’t goin’ to start after anything in the dark, so I just waited, and an hour or so later, Jimbo came back and just lay down by me like nothin’ had happened.

  Next mornin’ I walked out of camp the way Jimbo had gone in the night, and ’bout sixty yards out, I saw a set of cat tracks that was as big as a horse’s hoof print. Now that the mountain lion found out Jimbo was on guard, I wasn’t at all worried ’bout him comin’ back after the stock.

  ’Bout midday, we reached the Bear River, and I just turned and started followin’ it upstream. That warm south wind was comin’ down the canyon right in our faces, so at the first smaller stream that branched off, I turned up it, headin’ west. We followed it up a ways and made camp on the north side of a high pine-covered ridge where we were out of the wind. There was still snow on this shady side, but I picketed the stock on some dry grass by the creek and made me a bed under the heavy branches where two pines had grown close enough together to form a natural roof. The pine needles were thick enough for a nice, soft bed.

  The storm I was expectin’ came in that night, and it snowed, but it was breakin’ up by daylight, and it appeared today wouldn’t be too bad. Although a couple of inches fell in the night, I stayed dry and warm under those pines.