Grizzley at Glacier Park

Tacked to the park sign post at the side of the trail was the picture of a snarling grizzly bear standing upright. As I rode by, the 2 young men with backpacks asked me if we had seen that bear. I never lie, but sometimes I tell stories that are not factual, you know, somewhat like fiction. It is not meant to deceive, only to entertain. These fellows were from the city I could tell at a glance and were somewhat uneasy about this great outdoor country where mean beasts wander freely. So I said to them "Nope, never seen him, but there was some big critter out there in the dark last night that boog-eyed our horses mighty bad and I wouldn't be surprised if it warn't that bear there." And I indicated the picture on the post."Yeah, you don't say, Wow!" they were taking it all in. I nudged my horse to move on down the trail. "Have a good night," I says.

The bottom of this canyon was broad, flat and grassy with a few trees scattered along. A nice little river wound its way from one little lake to another down the gentle grade. Towering walls of the great Rocky Mountains rose high on either side where in places perpetual glaciers reposed, feeding their melt to the little river below. The time was late afternoon and we were looking for a place to camp and by the river too so the boys could do some fishing. About 100 yards below one of the lakes the river made an "S" bend with a nice gravel bar on our side, so we unpacked under a tree on the river bank.

Derk, Wendell, Mike, Lynn and his boy were soon dunking worms in the water trying to entice trout for supper. I got busy taking care of the horses and arranging camp. The park rules are that horse backers are to carry in all horse feed and camp in designated places. 'Course those rules were made by some city feller that has a college degree (no practical education at all). Anybody that has any sense at all knows you can't expect a hungry horse not to eat if he's standing in nice green grass up past his knees, so we considered the source and did the best we could.

Just below the lake the trail forked, one trail crossed the river to the east side where the back packers traveled, the other fork continued on the west side for several miles to a ford where the water ran belly deep to a tall horse. There was a line of tall brush that hid our camp from either trail, which was nice in case one of those bureaucrats came along. It was sundown so didn't really think any of them would be out this late exposing themselves to that night marauding grizzly. Besides, it was past quitting time and any educated bureaucrat should have his feet under the table, not patterin down a park trail.

We had some oats along so we could truthfully say we had horse feed with us in case one of those guys asked. Each horse got his ration once a day, not that they needed it but because we were abiding the rule by feeding our horses. We had only one nose bag so they had to take turns. They were all staked out munching that good grass. Sure a shame too, all that green grass growing and nothing to eat it. The buffalo were all dead and no elk, not even any Indian ponies and grass high and thick enough to get 50 bales to the acre if it were cut.

The river didn't produce any fish so we ate dutch oven taters with Argentina corned beef, then sat around the fire telling big stories and wishing that bear would come around to "liven" things up a bit. Mike rolled out his sleeping bag by the fire and was soon asleep, so was Lynn's boy. Wendell and Lynn fixed their beds under the tree. Derk and I put our bedrolls out in the grass about 50 feet from the campfire. I was getting settled down, about to go to sleep when I remembered I hadn't taken the nose bag off Nigg's head, him being the last one to get his grain. I get up and patter out through the soft grass to where he is and pull it off. The night was real black and it was only by the flicker of a low burning campfire that I was able to find him. Nigg was a big black weighing at least 1400 lbs. and carried a humungus pack for us, but he did it with ease.

After getting back in bed I laid there looking at that great starry night, thinking what a pleasant camp trip this was, when the sound of male voices came from up the trail. As I lay there listening they seemed to be getting closer and I supposed it was those two young city dude backpackers. I wondered why they are wandering around out there on such a dark, dark night. By the sound of their voices they seemed to be moving along slow. Maybe they were looking for the fork in the trail. They sure are doing a lot of talking cause I can hear them almost constantly. The sound from them makes the horses nervous and I hear them move around some. They are all listening to what's going on up the trail. Old Nigg gives a deep base nicker. Immediately a terrified scream rends the peaceful silence of the night, then another and another. The horrified screaming is almost continual. Male human beings in mortal hysterical fear. Never did I suppose that a man could make such a racket, even if he was being "et" by an alligator.

Then came the words "it's a bear!!" and more of that male screaming that should tax the lungs and vocal cords of the best Italian operatic performers. I'll bet if that old grizzly was within 2 or 3 miles of our location he would hightail it for yonder deep woods in a hurry. Then come the desperate call "Help! Help! there's a bear after us! Bring a flashlight!"

I can see in the glow of the campfire Lynn and Wendell pulling on pants and boots. Lynn hollers "where's he at?" "Over here, bring a flashlight!" The screaming and pleas for help continue unabated. I'm laying there knowing what caused all this ruckus, but not thinking how this might develop into a more humorous adventure. I decide I'd best let Wendell and Lynn in on the cause of the ruckus so I yell over to those screamers: "It's not a bear. It was our horses nickering." Desperately: "It is a bear, bring a flashlight!, Help! Help!. bring a flashlight!"

"We don't have a flashlight, why don't you climb a tree?" "We are up a tree, help! help!, bring a flashlight. By this time I'm sitting up in bed and getting somewhat perturbed. I holler "Dammit, there aint no bear and we don't have a flashlight and if you want to see, get down and build you a fire or else come over here. "They reaffirm their claim some more and I have to repeat the facts some, but presently I hear them communicating with each other in quieter tones. In a little bit the flicker of a campfire can be seen and everything turns from bedlam to peace and quiet of the wilderness.

When all the screaming woke Derk up, he thought that old grizzly was in our camp chasing our crew around. He had no way to help out so he just scooted way down in his sleeping bag hoping that man-eater wouldn't notice him. Mike didn't even wake up, he slept right through all the excitement. Those dudes waded across the river about daylight, not saying another word to us. I don't blame them either after making such fools out of themselves. I wouldn't want to face up to anyone who knew about it.

We examined the location of their travail. They had mashed down brush and broken off limbs all the way to the top of 2 tall trees. It was from their perch in the trees that they had seen the embers of our dying campfire and called for help. Even though they knew for sure there was no bear after them, they still told a ranger that one had attacked them.

So here shows that a little white lie told in fun can beget a bigger one that will go down in the annals of Glacier National Park as a vicious bear attack on innocent sight seeing tourists (Dudes).