Soon after the plane departed with the previous week’s party, we found their notes about the bears and how they approached the “curious” bear’s behavior with a kind gentle voice to “reassure the bear that everything was okay.” They gave directions on making an “early warning device” by hanging empty beer cans on a string between the cabin and some trees on either side. We got a chuckle out of these “words of wisdom,” especially when the evidence of how well they worked soon walked up the trail and started sniffing around in the shrubs and berry bushes next o the cabin.
We watched what he was up to and yelled at him a bit, but that didn’t seem to do much good. Satisfied that there were new tenants, and possibly a new food source to exploit, he ambled on down the shore line where he plucked a fish carcass from the water, plopped down and began to feed.
The group at the outpost cabin before us left a note saying they had seen as many as 8 different bears. We only saw one: the "curious male" who bit into our water lines twice and dug up some of the bushes along the side of the cabin. We figure an earlier group had 1) fed this bear and 2) dumped cooking grease in the bushes. The group before us said they had found grease in the old latrine. They also had fired a shotgun over this bad boy's head to little or no effect. He was around the camp on Friday soon after we arrived and again on Sunday.
Friday afternoon and again on Saturday we had some problems with the fridge (the pilot light kept going out), so we put the red sign out on the dock which tells any passing pilot to send help. Not being ones to wait, we pulled the propane fridge from its slot next to the stove and took the plate off the back that covered the pilot light. We cleaned a couple of screens using Q-tips and lit the pilot again. By Sunday morning the fridge was working fine so we pulled the red sign. Well, the Cessna, piloted by Scotty, came in anyway, which was a good thing. He had maps we needed but he also helped us fix a problem with our water system. Apparently, the bear, not getting the food he expected, bit into the black plastic intake pipe mounted on a pole four feet out into the lake. We cut and spliced the pipe and our water source was back in business. Scotty left. We went fishing.
When John and I returned later Sunday afternoon, we had a sprinkler system in the front of the cabin. The bear had returned and bitten into the supply line coming from the 50-gallon drums that served as a cistern to the fish cleaning station. We didn’t have any more splicing parts but luckily the holes in the pipe were within inches of an existing splice and there was some slack in the line. We just cut off a section and put it back together.
We gathered for dinner on Sunday night and discussed what to do about THE “curious bear.” I looked up and there he was sitting just outside the front door looking in the window.
When he showed up after biting the second water line, we had enough. Stones and shouts didn't deter him. (The stones did slow him down as he thought we were throwing food.) A charge of #6 birdshot in his butt sent him scurrying into the woods.
Joe grabbed the shotgun and shells and I got some rocks. I tried throwing the rocks and yelling, but every time I missed, he walked over to see if I had thrown anything edible. He was moving away from us, however, and that gave Joe the opportunity to give him a little education by way of lead injection. When he was forty yards away and he turned his head so his face was protected, Joe fired a load of #6 birdshot into his butt. He hustled into the woods and we did not see him again around the cabin. We saw him two more times along the lake shore but as soon as he saw the boat carried a human--ZIP he was gone!
1 comment:
My husband and son are up in Manawaki right now. Havent heard how the fishing has been yet. Good to hear the bugs are not that bad this year.
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