Bruin: The Grand Bear Hunt. Reid Mayne
bears is not worth a straw. Strange enough, the point is as much disputed now as in the days of Pliny. The English traveller Bruce, states positively that there are no bears in Africa. Another English traveller to Abyssinia, Salt, makes no mention of them; while the German, Ehrenberg, says that he has seen them in the mountains of Abyssinia, and heard of them also in Arabia Felix! Several French and English travellers (Dapper, Shaw, Poncet, and Poiret), bear testimony to the existence of bears in different parts of Africa – in Nubia, Babur, and Congo. In the Atlas mountains, between Algiers and Morocco, according to Poiret, bears are common enough; and this writer even gives some details as to their habits. He says that they are exceedingly fierce and carnivorous, and that the Arabs believe they can lift stones in their paws and fling them at those who may be in pursuit of them! He relates that an Arab hunter brought him the skin of one of those bears; and also showed him a wound in his leg, which he had received by the animal having launched a stone at him while he was pursuing it! Monsieur Poiret, however, does not vouch for the truth of the stone-throwing, though he stoutly maintains the existence of African bears.”
“What does papa think about it?” inquired Ivan.
“That there are bears in Africa – perhaps in all the mountainous parts of Africa – but certainly in the Atlas and Tetuan ranges. Indeed, an English traveller of veracity has put the question beyond a doubt, by giving some points in the description of these African bears. Naturalists thought that if such an animal existed in Africa, it would be the same species as the Syrian; but although the bears reported in the Arabian and Abyssinian mountains are likely enough to be of that species, those of the Atlas are evidently not only distinct from the Syrian bear, but from all other known kinds. One that was killed near Tetuan, about twenty-five miles from the Atlas mountains, was a female, and less in size than the American black bear. It was black also, or rather brownish black, and without any white marking about the muzzle, but under the belly its fur was of a reddish orange. The hair was shaggy and four or five inches long, while the snout, toes, and claws were all shorter than in the American black bear, and the body was of thicker and stouter make. The Englishman had learnt something of its habits too. The Arabs said it was rarely met with near Tetuan; that it fed on roots, acorns, and fruits, but was only an indifferent climber. Indeed it would be very improbable,” continued Alexis, “that the great ranges of the Atlas and Abyssinian mountains should be without these mammalia, since they exist in nearly all the other mountains of the globe. Moreover, it should be remembered that it is only a few years since the bears of the Himalayas, of the Great Andes of America, and those of the East-Indian islands – and even the bear of Mount Lebanon – became known to the scientific world. Why, then, should there not be a species in Africa – perhaps more than one – though civilised people are yet unacquainted with it?”
“But you say we are not going to Africa?”
“No; our instructions relate only to every variety of bear known to naturalists; and the African bear does not come under this category – since it has not yet been described by any naturalist. For that reason we shall have no errand into Africa.”
“Then, surely North America is our next stage?”
“Certainly not – you are aware that there is a South American bear.”
“Yes, the ‘spectacled bear,’ as he is called.”
“Just so – the ursus ornatus. I think we shall find two species in South America, though that is also a disputed point.”
“Well, brother, what if we should?”
“Why, both will be found in the Andes of Chili and Peru, and not in the eastern parts of South America.”
“And how should that affect our route of travel?”
“Very essentially indeed. Were we to go first to North America, we should find no less than five species, or four species and one well-marked variety. To reach the native haunt of one of these – I mean the grizzly (ursus ferox) – we should have to go farther west than any part of the South American Andes: how, then, could we afterwards reach the spectacled bear without doubling back on our meridian?”
“True, brother – I see that, by looking on the map. You propose, then, steering first to South America, and afterwards to the northern division of the American continent?”
“We are compelled to do so, by the very nature of our contract. Having procured the skins of ursus ornatus and another variety we shall find in the Andes, we can then travel almost due north. On the Mississippi we shall be able to pick up a skin of the American black bear (ursus americanus), and by the help of the Hudson’s Bay voyageurs we shall reach the shores of the great gulf in which that territory takes its name. There the ‘polar bear’ (ursus maritimus) can be found. Farther westward and northward we may hope to capture the ‘barren ground bear,’ which the English traveller Sir John Richardson thinks is only a variety of our European brown bear, but which papa – and good reasons he has – believes to be nothing of the kind. Crossing the Rocky Mountains, we shall be able, I hope, to knock over the famed and formidable grizzly (ursus ferox), and in Oregon, or British Columbia, we shall strip his hide from the ‘cinnamon bear’ (ursus cinnamonus), believed to be a variety of the American black. That will finish with the bears of America.”
“Asia next, I suppose?”
“Yes, straight across to Kamschatka. There we shall meet with the ‘Siberian,’ or ‘collared bear’ (ursus collaris). Of these, two varieties are said to exist, one of which, specified by the name ursus sibiricus, is also found in Lapland and Siberia.”
“Go on, brother! Where next?”
“From Kamschatka we shall make a long traverse to the south-west. Our best hunting-ground will be Borneo.”
“Ah! the beautiful little bear with the orange-coloured breast!”
“Yes; that is the ‘Bornean bear’ (ursus euryspilus), or ‘Bruang,’ as he is called by the Malays.”
“But there is another Bruang?”
“Yes – the ‘Malayan sun-bear’ (ursus malagenus). This we shall encounter in Sumatra or Java, whichever we choose to visit.”
“Well, the list is much larger than I expected; certainly it has been wonderfully lengthened since the days of the good old Linnaeus.”
“We have not reached the end yet.”
“Where next, brother?”
“Up the Bay of Bengal, and on to the Himalayas. First in the foot-hills of these mountains we shall have to search for the curious ‘sloth bear,’ or ‘juggler’s bear’ (ours de jongleurs) as the French writers term him. He is the ursus labiatus of naturalists; and we may find him in the plains of India, before reaching the Himalayas. Having skinned him, we shall proceed to climb the great mountains, and higher up we are certain to come across the ‘Thibet bear’ (ursus thibetanus) – by some very erroneously described as being one of the numerous varieties of the European brown bear! Still higher up we shall, I hope, have the good luck to encounter and kill a specimen of the ‘Isabella bear’ (ursus isabelinus), so called from his colour, but termed by Anglo-Indian sportsmen the ‘snow bear,’ because he frequents the declivities near the snow-line of these stupendous mountains.”
“That is all, is it not?”
“No, Ivan – one more, and that will be the last.”
“What is he?”
“The ‘Syrian’ (ursus syriacus); and though the last in our catalogue, this is the very first on record: for they were bears of this species that came out of the wood and ‘tare forty and two’ of the mockers of the prophet Elisha. We shall have to visit Syria, to procure a skin of the ursus syriacus.”
“Well, I hope their ferociousness has been tamed down since Elisha’s time, else we may stand a fair chance of being served in a similar fashion.”
“No doubt we shall have many a scratch before we encounter the bears of Mount Lebanon. When we have obtained a robe from one of them, there will be