Dre
05-20-2014, 11:35 PM
Our spring black bear hunt started out like most others. Our hunting party consisted of myself, my partner and my dog Blue. We set up our camp on Thursday night and hit the gravel roads first thing the next morning. By the end of the morning, we had a good idea of where to concentrate our efforts, just follow the poop piles.
In the evening we had our first encounter, a smallish cinnamon at the end of an overgrown road. It tucked tail and dissapeared faster than I could say "BEAR". Oh well, thats how it goes sometimes. Not twenty minutes later we spotted our second bear, a black one, a little 'leggy' and most likely young. It gave us some 5 seconds and also pulled off a dissapearing act. Neither one was a shooter, but it was surprising at how spooky these bears were.
The next day was a continuation of sightings of back-sides at full gallop in the direction of the nearest cover. We had two sightings of a blackie and a bigger cinnamon, the latter of which really got me going and had me sneaking through the christmas trees trying to spot it. It didn't work and our frustration was building. This area is pretty tight knitt and there is not much for open spaces, so every time we saw a bear it saw us and dissappeared. We also covered some miles on foot, but nothing was working. The bears were more spooky than whitetails.
On the third day, we changed tactics completely and went to a different area that I was familiar with about 45min drive away. It was far more open, giving us the opportunity to spot a bear from further and execute a stalk without spooking it. It did not take long, at around 7am we spotted a good size blackie about 400yds from us in a nice green patch with a fresh cut block sepperating us. We decided to cut down the distance and stumbled our way down and back up the other side of the cut block.
Ariving at the predetermined spot and trying to catch my breath, I looked around for a good rest. After a couple of attempts, I settled on a downed log in a sitting position and got ready. I ranged the bear which was still in the same area at 247yds. Still panting from the frantic climb through the cut block, I tried to see how steady my crosshairs were, so I settled them on the bear. As I tried to controll my breathing, the bear moved from facing me to a perfect broadside shot, I thought 'what am I waiting for, he is in pefrect position'. I steadied the crosshairs a little high on his shoulder and squeezed off.
The bear did a forward summersault, and then another, and another. I fired again from off hand and went back to my rest for a third shot at which he dissapeared. My partner watching behind me said 'He's done, you hit him hard, lets go get him'. I said "We should give him some time". "Ok, but i think he's done" my partner answered. So we watched for a few minutes and since there was no sound or movement from the area the bear had dissapeared into, we made our way down.
The blood trail was very evident with thick clotted chunks every few feet and lots of smeared blood as well, arterial, fatal, all of it leading into a thick patch of christmas trees. We looked through trying to spot him, but no such luck. 'Lets get Blue and find him' I said. We walked up to the truck and drove back down to the green patch from a connecting road. The copius blood trail, lack of noise or movement had us convinced that the bear had packed in and it was just a matter of finding him, so I let Blue out of the truck and directed him to the blood trail.
He picked it up and headed into the thicket, my partner and I in tow. The visibility was between two and five yards so we were following him mostly by the jingle of his colar. Looking down, the blood trail was continuing, but after twenty or so yards I was surprised that we had not found it. The spoor showed that he was dragging himself, smearing the grass with clotting blood. 'Shouldn't be long now' I thought, ' we'll find him soon'. After a few more yards by brail, Blue popped up a few yards ahead of me givving me that look and wagging his tail. I recognize it as he has done it many times before, its his satisfaction of finding what he was looking for and telling me to come see. 'Where is, go find it" I urged him", he took of again. I started to make my way in his direction when all hell broke loose.
A loud mixture of barking and roaring filled my head and I shot forward blindly towards it yelling at Blue to 'get off'. I covered the few yards to the scene expecting the worst for my poor dog and hating myself for putting him in this ordeal. What I saw was a mess of black furr locked in battle with only the flashing of white teeth distinguishing Blue from the bear. Trying to figure out which is the bear and which is my dog I saw that the bear had him by the back end and Blue was twisting around and biting it in the face trying to free himself. I imediately fired in the bear's back, but close to the rear as not to hit my dog, it had no effect, the bear was still trying to pull him in and bite him. I jumped beside it chambering a fresh round and shoved the barrel in his right side as I pulled the trigger. The bear slumped down and Blue freed himself. He spun around and was right in the bear's face, what a trooper, still in the fight. I jumped over the bear and ran to my dog. Spun around and told my partner to keep his gun on it. Blue was not into cuddling, he was still wound up, seamed to be in good shape though.
I checked him out back at the truck and found a puncture on his left butcheek, but it bled very little and stopped, nothing broken, good shape. He still thinks that he killed it and was acting all tough. The bear was a male, 300-350lbs, in perfect shape although almost no fat reserve left on him. Blue is 105lb Bouvier. There was a clump of Blue's hair and a stick in the bear's mouth.
My initial shot had hit a little low and grazed the bottom of the heart leaving a gauge the width of my finger. The follow-up shots while he was rolling had a complete miss and a flesh wound in the rear leg near the foot. The final 2 shots were through the lower back and out the chest on the first and through the right side and stopped in the off shoulder for the last. We should have waited a few more minutes and the bear would have been dead, but we were persuaded by the sign that it was over.
I did not see what happened between Blue and the bear in the begining, but I know that he would never approach a live bear, only bark. What I think happened is that the bear was laying there dying and he found it, comming back to get us. Then when I told him to go find it again, he went up to it to sniff it from the front and the bear noticed and lunged at him. As he tried to run, the bear grabbed him from the back end and was pulling him in when I showed up. When we shaved him at home, we found another tooth puncture in the left butcheek and one on his back from a claw.
My dog is the hero of the trip, for if it was not for him, my but might have been perforated. I hope to never make this mistake again. Always give dangerous animals enough time, especially in thick cover.
Cheers
http://i59.tinypic.com/2cdikax.jpg
http://i60.tinypic.com/2qd5pnc.jpg
http://i59.tinypic.com/w7edc0.jpg
In the evening we had our first encounter, a smallish cinnamon at the end of an overgrown road. It tucked tail and dissapeared faster than I could say "BEAR". Oh well, thats how it goes sometimes. Not twenty minutes later we spotted our second bear, a black one, a little 'leggy' and most likely young. It gave us some 5 seconds and also pulled off a dissapearing act. Neither one was a shooter, but it was surprising at how spooky these bears were.
The next day was a continuation of sightings of back-sides at full gallop in the direction of the nearest cover. We had two sightings of a blackie and a bigger cinnamon, the latter of which really got me going and had me sneaking through the christmas trees trying to spot it. It didn't work and our frustration was building. This area is pretty tight knitt and there is not much for open spaces, so every time we saw a bear it saw us and dissappeared. We also covered some miles on foot, but nothing was working. The bears were more spooky than whitetails.
On the third day, we changed tactics completely and went to a different area that I was familiar with about 45min drive away. It was far more open, giving us the opportunity to spot a bear from further and execute a stalk without spooking it. It did not take long, at around 7am we spotted a good size blackie about 400yds from us in a nice green patch with a fresh cut block sepperating us. We decided to cut down the distance and stumbled our way down and back up the other side of the cut block.
Ariving at the predetermined spot and trying to catch my breath, I looked around for a good rest. After a couple of attempts, I settled on a downed log in a sitting position and got ready. I ranged the bear which was still in the same area at 247yds. Still panting from the frantic climb through the cut block, I tried to see how steady my crosshairs were, so I settled them on the bear. As I tried to controll my breathing, the bear moved from facing me to a perfect broadside shot, I thought 'what am I waiting for, he is in pefrect position'. I steadied the crosshairs a little high on his shoulder and squeezed off.
The bear did a forward summersault, and then another, and another. I fired again from off hand and went back to my rest for a third shot at which he dissapeared. My partner watching behind me said 'He's done, you hit him hard, lets go get him'. I said "We should give him some time". "Ok, but i think he's done" my partner answered. So we watched for a few minutes and since there was no sound or movement from the area the bear had dissapeared into, we made our way down.
The blood trail was very evident with thick clotted chunks every few feet and lots of smeared blood as well, arterial, fatal, all of it leading into a thick patch of christmas trees. We looked through trying to spot him, but no such luck. 'Lets get Blue and find him' I said. We walked up to the truck and drove back down to the green patch from a connecting road. The copius blood trail, lack of noise or movement had us convinced that the bear had packed in and it was just a matter of finding him, so I let Blue out of the truck and directed him to the blood trail.
He picked it up and headed into the thicket, my partner and I in tow. The visibility was between two and five yards so we were following him mostly by the jingle of his colar. Looking down, the blood trail was continuing, but after twenty or so yards I was surprised that we had not found it. The spoor showed that he was dragging himself, smearing the grass with clotting blood. 'Shouldn't be long now' I thought, ' we'll find him soon'. After a few more yards by brail, Blue popped up a few yards ahead of me givving me that look and wagging his tail. I recognize it as he has done it many times before, its his satisfaction of finding what he was looking for and telling me to come see. 'Where is, go find it" I urged him", he took of again. I started to make my way in his direction when all hell broke loose.
A loud mixture of barking and roaring filled my head and I shot forward blindly towards it yelling at Blue to 'get off'. I covered the few yards to the scene expecting the worst for my poor dog and hating myself for putting him in this ordeal. What I saw was a mess of black furr locked in battle with only the flashing of white teeth distinguishing Blue from the bear. Trying to figure out which is the bear and which is my dog I saw that the bear had him by the back end and Blue was twisting around and biting it in the face trying to free himself. I imediately fired in the bear's back, but close to the rear as not to hit my dog, it had no effect, the bear was still trying to pull him in and bite him. I jumped beside it chambering a fresh round and shoved the barrel in his right side as I pulled the trigger. The bear slumped down and Blue freed himself. He spun around and was right in the bear's face, what a trooper, still in the fight. I jumped over the bear and ran to my dog. Spun around and told my partner to keep his gun on it. Blue was not into cuddling, he was still wound up, seamed to be in good shape though.
I checked him out back at the truck and found a puncture on his left butcheek, but it bled very little and stopped, nothing broken, good shape. He still thinks that he killed it and was acting all tough. The bear was a male, 300-350lbs, in perfect shape although almost no fat reserve left on him. Blue is 105lb Bouvier. There was a clump of Blue's hair and a stick in the bear's mouth.
My initial shot had hit a little low and grazed the bottom of the heart leaving a gauge the width of my finger. The follow-up shots while he was rolling had a complete miss and a flesh wound in the rear leg near the foot. The final 2 shots were through the lower back and out the chest on the first and through the right side and stopped in the off shoulder for the last. We should have waited a few more minutes and the bear would have been dead, but we were persuaded by the sign that it was over.
I did not see what happened between Blue and the bear in the begining, but I know that he would never approach a live bear, only bark. What I think happened is that the bear was laying there dying and he found it, comming back to get us. Then when I told him to go find it again, he went up to it to sniff it from the front and the bear noticed and lunged at him. As he tried to run, the bear grabbed him from the back end and was pulling him in when I showed up. When we shaved him at home, we found another tooth puncture in the left butcheek and one on his back from a claw.
My dog is the hero of the trip, for if it was not for him, my but might have been perforated. I hope to never make this mistake again. Always give dangerous animals enough time, especially in thick cover.
Cheers
http://i59.tinypic.com/2cdikax.jpg
http://i60.tinypic.com/2qd5pnc.jpg
http://i59.tinypic.com/w7edc0.jpg