Cats are temporary citizens here in Cowlitz Co. in SW WA. We had one for a few years, but he was mean and big and the fastest climber and descender of trees you ever saw. I think it is mainly coyotes and bobcats that are the threat. On Halloween night however, once home from trick or treating I got a call on the phone from my friend Harvey saying he’d wounded a black bear at his house that was getting into and destroying his bee hives. He’d shot it twice with his .338 Win mag before work and he wanted me to come down and help him trail up the wounded or dead bear. It was now 8:00 pm and very dark. Of the guns to choose from….. my .338 Remington? The Ruger .44 revolver? The lever Marlin .30-30? Duh, we are talking close range, wounded predator…. I grabbed the 12 gauge Browning Semi Auto – 5 and loaded it with five rounds of 00 buckshot! I also grabbed the Coleman lantern and decided that having Gauge the big chocolate lab along might not be bad either. There was very little (maybe two small splotches) of blood that were hard to find in the darkness – not a good sign. The brush was very thick. Harvey was sure he’d hit it and it had dragged its back legs down the hill into the creek bottom. Gauge was nervous, darting around and sniffing. As we worked our way through the briar, vine maples and twisted limbs, climbing and crawling and getting scratched up, maneuvering the lantern and gun, etc. we got further apart. Lauren (his 15 year old daughter) trailed with her flashlight. Harvey was caught up in some broken branches and then, upon hearing a loud “woof” sound Gauge flew backwards, alarmed, back to my position, growling pointedly at something ahead. I knew it was more than just a wounded bird or raccoon by his reaction. He was scared and very, very ready. I lifted the lantern with my left hand, holding the forestock of the gun too. I said “I can see it, it’s right there, and it’s moving. I’m going to shoot.” It was a huge pile of blackness, head towards me, lying down. So I shot, not wanting to miss the opportunity to have a close range shot at a stationary target in view. I aimed at its head. BANG! It rolled to the left and started thrashing around some. I aimed again and pulled the trigger…. Nothing, not even a click. The gun had jammed (and that gun NEVER jams). I cleared the spent hull from the ejection port and it chambered another round. But there was no point. Harvey joined me and we all watched as Death closed its clutches on the massive, black, wooly varmint. The bear stilled. We waited more. Finally, after many comments about how truly BIG it was (250-280 lbs.), I touched it’s eye with the barrel of the shotgun. Both eyes were open and unmoving…. A great sign it was over. Finally, with some courage worked up, we started to examine and prod it. It was all Harvey and I could do to drag it. Lauren started to help and then chimed out with “I should probably take off my jacket…. It’s dry-clean only.” Well it was comforting to know at least one of our bear hunting party was dressed well with a coordinated red and brown, suede leather jacket ensemble. So we tied a rope around it and proceeded to drag it up a steep, blackberry vine covered slope. I went up to get my truck to see if we could tie several ropes together and to it to drag it up the main part of the steep hill. When I came back down, Harvey said he’d lost his pager (necessary as he was on-call with the fire dept.) We had the neighbor call the Fire Dept. and to give Harvey a practice page. Within minutes, the bear started ringing. Sure enough, the pager was under the bear. Well, we eventually dragged it up to the driveway, 2 feet at a time with me backing up the truck while towing and Harvey, jostling the bear through the weeds. Once up, pictures were taken and then Lauren, Deb, Harvey and I lifted the bear into the truck bed. Back at Harvey’s we had a few more pictures and started skinning the carcass while Lauren held the flashlight. It is amazing how exhausting that feat can be. Older deer often have an inch of fat on their backs in places. This bear had three inches of soft white fat totally encompassing it’s whole torso, top, sides and belly as well as down onto the legs. Using the folding pruning saw we cut through the bones of the ankles (much tougher than deer’s) and got the hide all the way off. Once it was gutted, we got the meat into an elk bag and stored it in the garage next to the hide. What a night. It was 1:30 am before I went to bed. All in all, a great little Halloween Varmint Adventure! Pics later.
C.W.