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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Bayfield Bulletin, 1966-06-17, Page 8BUSHY
TALES
by
ART ELLIOTT
AN,
rs N .WN)
icate., 1966 2-2
BE PATIENT.
I KNOW
YOU'RE ANXIO
MR. GROUN
SHOWILL
UP.
or
at.
IF HE SEES HIS
SHADOW, WE
HAVE SIX MORE
WEEKS OF WIN
TER.
KITCHIGAMI
[ TOURIST CAMP
g
• Family Picnics
• Tenting
• Cotta es
Only 5 Miles North of
Bayfield, Hwy. 21
Tel: 524-6494
GET
EXPERT INSTALLATION
FROM SPECIALISTS
a large black bear hanging by
the neck. The snare had work-
ed. The timber toppled and
hauled Mr. Bear up into a very
poor position from which to
eat garbage. For all I know,
he's still dangling there, and
that's about all the subject will
bear.
•
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June 16-17
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June 21-22
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PAGE EIGHT-The Hayfield Bulletin-June 17,1966
All this flurry about the new
women's topless bathing suits
should serve to remind us, one
and all, that we have a hear
story In tell again this week.
It has been related in some
detail how a big black bruin
bear took a fancy to the gar-
bage pile behind our prospect-
ing camp on a remote lake
about 170 miles north of Pickle
Crow mine in Northwestern
Ontario. The episode, taking
place in the middle of the night,
thoroughly unnerved me, and
annoyed my Indian partner,
Alex Mathias. He stated flatly
that as we had no rifle in
camp, we'd have to snare the
bear.
This reminded me of the
recipe for rabbit stew which
starts out: "No. 1 — Catch a
rabbit.'!
Foolishly, I expressed some
doubt that it could be done.
Alex was not too happy to have
his trapping ability questioned.
I asked him if he was sure he
could do it, and he said merely:
"Sure I'm sure. Just wait
until . after work tomorrow
and you'll see."
Alex is not one of the Indians
you might meet on the trail
who will hold up the right hand
and say: "How". Alex knows
how.
Accordingly, after we got the
dishes done after supper next
day, we roceeded to our mol-
ested garbage dump, equipped
with our short light line-cutting
axes, and under Alex's direct-
ions, we set to work.
We cut and trimmed 16 or 20
light pickets or poles and built
the frame of a miniature wig-
wam at the base of a big pop-
lar. On the tree inside the wig-
wam we spiked a chuk of bacon
Side that had turned more than
somewhat green, and on the
ground inside the enclosure we
dropped three decayed p or k
chops..
"He won't be able to resist
that," Alex 'stated, with a sat-
isfied smile. Then we went back
to work with the axes. We cut
and trimmed a big spruce, fin-
ishing up with a timber about
25 feet long and about 10 inches
aerobs the butt. This we heaved
up on its end beside two smal-
ler spruces which grew only
about five or six inches apart.
About eight feet above the
ground we :bailed a couple of
crum. pieces, leaving a squar-
ish aperture. Here Alex insert-
ed a long length of half-inch
rope, secured 'it to the big tim-
ber, made a trigger out of a
peg, carried the rope down to
the little wigwam, and there
looped a hangman's noose ar-
ound the entrance and went to
some trouble to conceal it with
leafy 'branches and spruce
sprigs.
It was a ridiculous looking
set-up, and I lost no time in
saying so. I was dog tired
from a sleepless night and plod-
ding through about four miles
of muskeg and labrador tea
that day, dripping with sweat
and pestered cranky by the
blackflies.
"That thing wouldn't fool t
child of two," I said a little
sharply, thinking that if this
was some kind of practical
joke, it had gone too far for
me.
"A bear is not a child of
two", was all Alex said before
he ambled back to camp, quite
satisfied with himself and the
crazy, looking snare.
Every afternoon for three
days we couldn't wait to get
back to camp and take a quick
look back behind the tent. No
fresh sign of bear.
"He's still full from the other
night", Alex thought out loud.
"But now that he knows where
this garbage is, he'll always
come back."
We're Rescued
Next morning about 7.45
when I was frying a luscious
marmalade omelet, a Cessna 180
aircraft, equipped with pontoong
landed on our lake and taxied
tin to our shoreline. As soon as
the pilot cut the engine, he slid
out of the cockpit onto one of
the pontoons and hollered:
"Grab your shaving gear and
enough to fill a small side bag,
and we're going to get to hell
out of here but fast."
More than 200 forest fires
were raging through the prov-
ince at the time. We had seen
:the red sunsets over Manitoba
way, and seen the skies dark
With smoke in the distance,
noted the blood red and murky
sunsets, but were unaware we
were in danger. It all seemed
so far away.
Abandon Camp
It developed that the Prov-
incial government had banned
all forest travel, commandeered
all aircraft for firefighting and
rescuing hundreds of Indian
families, and we were ordered
to abandon all gear and grub
and clinib into the plane. This
we did, but not before spitting
the marmalade omelet . and
what was left of the coffee with
our new friend, the pilot.
To make a long story even
longer*, I must confess I never
did see the bear in the trap.
But another pilot, who had
flown us into our camp site and
brought in our mail and sup-
plies told us that two days,
later on a fire fighting flight,
he flew low over our camp,
which was' still untouched by
fire, and was startled to see
z .311
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