Loaded for Bear
We built two blinds out of tree branches, about 40 feet apart, called East and West, for I was an Easterner and my guide was a Westerner. Of course there were jokes about which side of the nation could shoot the best.
I had five shells, as did he, varying in weight and precision. I loaded the 180, saving the 225 and the three 150’s.
After a short while, we spotted the bear coming over the ridge, it stopping about 150 yards away and then standing and sniffing the air, moving its head from side to side and all about. It then moved a few feet forward and repeated this. It knew that something was up, but it didn’t know where we were since the wind was in our favor. It was the same mighty and massive bear from yesterday that had buried a mule in a minute.
I was waiting to take the devastating spine shot, but after awhile it became clear that the bear was pushing forward and not going to turn around. Meanwhile, the guide had been giving me the thumb’s-up sign again and again. We dared not speak. Still, I didn’t shoot, for it was not best to shoot a bear from the front. The guide threw his hands up as a signal to go for it already, and so I gauged the wind and allowed for gravity, aiming just an inch above the center of the heart.
The bear was still for a moment and in my sights so I squeezed off the round, quickly reloading the 225 round. The bear fell to the ground and the guide yelled out: “Hey, you got it with one shot; I guess Easterners can shoot!”
The guide shouldn’t have spoken, plus he had spoken too soon. The bear got up, howling with rage and then headed towards us at a good clip. I put another shot to the other side of the heart and the bear stumbled a bit, but then resumed its speed. Two shots to the heart and it was still coming!
I got another round off at 75 yards and another at 50 yards—using my 150’s that were good for a moving target, hitting the bear twice somewhere, in my haste of necessity, but the bear was still racing at full speed, now but 25 yards away. I had one bullet left.
If you’ve ever seen the layout of a human body, seeing the muscles beneath the skin, I can tell you that that is nothing compared to a bear’s. They are not chubby and full of fat, but are lean mean machines of incredible power.
So, it still came on after I shot the last bullet. Meanwhile, the guide had put 5 bullets into the bear and it was still charging. I got out my knife. The guide looked at me, as if to say what the heck was I going to do with that!
The bear, but now 10 feet away, finally sprawled head first to the ground, its adrenaline finally gone, and slid up to with a foot of me and my knife. I backed up 10 feet.
“Is it dead?” the guide asked, going up to its front.
“Hold it,” I warned. “Never approach from the front; go around the back of it.”
He poked it with a stick. There was no response.
I took my share home and put it in the refrigerator. While I was out, my aunt noted it and said to her friend: “this meat is getting dark; it must not have been wrapped properly.”
“Hey, let’s have some,” said my aunt’s friend, “while it’s still good.”
“Ah, it’s so delicious.” they both agreed.
My grandmother soon arrived and told them that they had just eaten bear meat.
They clutched their stomachs and complained of terrible pains.


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