<h2> <SPAN name="chap_9" id="chap_9"></SPAN> <a>CHAPTER IX</SPAN><br/><span>I FIND A COMPANION</span></h2>
<p><span class="smcap">The</span> next spring was late. We had a return of
cold weather long after winter ought to have been
over, and for a month or more after I moved out
it was no easy matter to find food enough. The
snow had been unusually deep, and had only half
melted when the cold returned, so that the remaining
half stayed on the ground a long while, and
sometimes it took me all my time, grubbing up
camas roots, turning over stones and logs, and
ripping the bark off fallen trees, to find enough to
eat to keep me even moderately satisfied. Besides
the mice and chipmunks which I caught, I was
forced by hunger to dig woodchucks out of their
holes, and eat the young ones, though hitherto I
had never eaten any animal so large.</p>
<p>Somehow, in one way and another, I got along,
and when spring really came I felt that I was a
full-grown bear, and no longer a youngster who
had to make way for his elders when he met them
in the path. Nor was it long before I had an
opportunity of seeing that other bears also regarded
me no longer as a cub.</p>
<p>I had found a bees’ nest about ten feet up in a
big tree, and of course climbed up to it; but it
was one of those cases of which I have spoken,
when the game was not worth the trouble. The
nest was in a cleft in the tree too narrow for me
to get my arm into, and I could smell the honey
a foot or so away from my nose without being
able to reach it—than which I know nothing more
aggravating. And while you are hanging on to
a tree with three paws, and trying to squeeze the
fourth into a hole, the bees have you most unpleasantly
at their mercy. I was horribly stung
about my face, both my eyes and my nose were
smarting abominably, and at last I could stand it
no longer, but slid down to the ground again.</p>
<p>When I reached the ground, there was another
bear standing a few yards away looking at me.
He had a perfect right to look at me, and he was
doing me no sort of harm; but the stings of the
bees made me furious, and I think I was glad to
have anybody or anything to vent my wrath upon.
So as soon as I saw the other bear I charged him.
He was an older bear than I, and about my size;
and, as it was the first real fight that I had ever
had, he probably had more experience. But I
had the advantage of being thoroughly angry and
wanting to hurt someone, without caring whether
I was hurt myself or not, while he was feeling
entirely peaceable, and not in the least anxious to
hurt me or anybody else. The consequence was
that the impetuosity of my first rush was more
than he could stand. Of course he was up to
meet me, and I expect that under my coat my skin
on the left shoulder still carries the marks of his
claws where he caught me as we came together.</p>
<p>But I was simply not to be denied, and, while
my first blow must have almost broken his
neck, in less than a minute I had him rolling over
and over and yelling for mercy. I really believe
that, if he had not managed to get to his feet, and
then taken to his heels as fast as he could, I would
have killed him. Meanwhile the bees were having
fun with us both.</p>
<p>It was of no use, however angry I might be, to
stop to try and fight them; so as soon as the other
bear had escaped I made my own way as fast as I
could out of the reach of their stings, and down to
the stream to cool my smarting face. As I lay in the
water, I remember looking back with astonishment
to the whole proceeding. Five minutes before I
had had no intention of fighting anybody, and had
had no reason whatever for fighting that particular
bear. Had I met him in the ordinary way, we
should have been friendly, and I am not at all sure
that, if I had had to make up my mind to it in cold
blood, I should have dared to stand up to him,
unless something very important depended on it.
Yet all of a sudden the thing had happened. I
had had my first serious fight with a bear older
than myself, and had beaten him. Moreover, I
had learned the enormous advantage of being the
aggressor in a fight, and of throwing yourself into
it with your whole soul. As it was, though I
was astonished at the entire affair and surprised
at myself, and although the bee-stings still hurt
horribly, I was pretty well satisfied and rather
proud.</p>
<p>Perhaps it was as well that I had that fight
then, for the time was not far distant when I was
to go through the fight of my life. A bear may
have much fighting in the course of his existence,
or he may have comparatively little, depending
chiefly on his own disposition; but at least once
he is sure to have one fight on which almost the
whole course of his life depends. And that is when
he fights for his wife. Of course he may be beaten,
and then he has to try again. Some bears never
succeed in winning a wife at all. Some may win
one and then have her taken from them, and have
to seek another; but I do not believe that any
bear chooses to live alone. Every one will once at
least make an effort to win a companion who will
be the mother of his children. The crisis came
with me that summer, though many bears, I
believe, prefer to run alone until a year, or even
two years, later.</p>
<p>The summer had passed like the former one,
rather uneventfully after the episode of the bees.
I wandered abroad, roaming over a wide tract of
country, fishing, honey-hunting, and finding my
share of roots and beetles and berries, sheltering
during the heat of the day, and going wherever I
felt inclined in the cool of the night and morning.
I think I was disposed to be rather surly and
quarrelsome, and more than once took upon
myself to dispute the path with other bears; but
they always gave way to me, and I felt that I
pretty well had the mountains and the forests for
my own. But I was still lonely, and that summer
I felt it more than ever.</p>
<p>The late spring had ruined a large part of the
berry crop, and the consequence was that, wherever
there was a patch with any fruit on it, bears
were sure to find it out. There was one small
sheltered patch which I knew, where the fruit
had nearly all survived the frosts. I was there
one evening, when, not far from me, out of the
woods came another bear of about my size. I
was inclined to resent it at first, but then I saw
that it was a she-bear, and I liked her the moment
I obtained a good view of her. She saw me, and
sat up and looked at me amicably.</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="image_6" id="image_6"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/i141.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="500" alt="" /> <div class="caption"> <p class="caption">SHE SAW ME, AND SAT UP
AND LOOKED AT ME AMICABLY.</p>
</div>
<p class="centerref">[<SPAN href="images/i141-l.jpg">Enlarge</SPAN>]</p>
</div>
<p>I had never tried to make love before, but
I knew what was the right thing to do;
so I approached her slowly, walking sideways,
rubbing my nose on the ground, and mumbling
into the grass to tell her how much I admired
her. She responded in the correct way, by rolling
on the ground. So I continued to approach her,
and I cannot have been more than five or six yards
away, when out of the bushes behind her, to my
astonishment, came another he-bear. He growled
at me, and began to sniff around at the bushes, to
show that he was entirely ready to fight if I wanted
to. And of course I wanted to. I probably
should have wanted to in any circumstances,
but when the she-bear showed that she liked
me better than him, by growling at him, I would
not have gone away, without fighting for her, for
all the berries and honey in the world. One of
the most momentous crises in my life had come,
and, as all such things do, had come quite unexpectedly.</p>
<p>He was as much in earnest as I, and for a
minute we sidled round growling over our shoulders,
and each measuring the other. There was little
to choose between us, for, if I was a shade the
taller, he was a year older than I, and undoubtedly
the heavier and thicker. In fighting all other
animals except those of his kind, a bear’s natural
weapons are his paws, with one blow of which he
can crush a small animal, and either stun or break
the neck of a larger one. But he cannot do
any one of these three things to another bear as
big as himself, and only if one bear is markedly
bigger than the other can he hope to reach his
head, so as either to tear his face or give him
such a blow as will daze him and render him
incapable of going on fighting. A very much
larger bear can beat down the smaller one’s arms,
and rain such a shower of blows upon him as will
convince him at once that he is overmatched, and
make him turn tail and run. When two are
evenly matched, however, the first interchange
of blows with the paws is not likely to have much
effect either way, and the fight will have to be
settled by closing, by the use of teeth and main
strength. But, as I had learned in my fight that day
when I had been stung by the bees, the moral effect
of the first rush may be great, and it was in that
that my slight advantage in height and reach was
likely to be useful, whereas if we came to close
quarters slowly the thicker and stockier animal
would have the advantage. So I determined to
force the fighting with all the fury that I could;
and I did.</p>
<p>It was he who gave the first blow. As we
sidled up close to one another, he let out at me
wickedly with his left paw, a blow which, if it
had caught me, would undoubtedly have torn off
one of my ears. Most bears would have replied
to that with a similar swinging blow when they
got an opening, and the interchange of single
blows at arms’ length would have gone on indefinitely
until one or the other lost his temper
and closed. I did not wait for that. The instant
the first blow whistled past my head I threw
myself on my hind-quarters and launched myself
bodily at him, hitting as hard as I could and as fast,
first with one paw and then with the other, without
giving him time to recover his wits or get in
a blow himself. I felt him giving way as the
other bear had done, and when we closed he was
on his back on the ground, and I was on the top
of him.</p>
<p>The fight, however, had only begun. I had
gained a certain moral effect by the ferocity of
my attack, but a bear, when he is fighting in
earnest, is not beaten by a single rush, nor, indeed,
until he is absolutely unable to fight longer.
Altogether we must have fought for over an hour.
Two or three times we were compelled to stop and
draw apart, because neither of us had strength left
to use either claws or jaw. And each time when
we closed again I followed the same tactics, rushing
in and beating him down and doing my best to
cow him before we gripped; and each time, I think,
it had some effect—at least to the extent that it
gave me a feeling of confidence, as if I was fighting
a winning fight.</p>
<p>The deadliest grip that one bear can get on
another is with his jaws across the other’s muzzle,
when he can crush the whole face in. Once he
very nearly got me so, and this scar on the side of
my nose is the mark of his tooth; but he just
failed to close his jaws in time. And, as it proved
then, it is a dangerous game to play, for it leaves
you exposed if you miss your grip, and in this case
it gave me the opportunity that I wanted, to get
my teeth into his right paw just above the wrist.
My teeth sank through the flesh and tendons
and closed upon the bone. In time, if I could hold
my grip, I would crush it. His only hope lay in
being able to compel me to let go, by getting his
teeth in behind my ear; and this we both knew,
and it was my business with my right paw to keep
his muzzle away.</p>
<p>A moment like that is terrible—and splendid.
I have never found myself in his position, but I
can imagine what it must be. We swayed and
fell together, and rolled over and over—now he
uppermost, and now I; but never for a second
did I relax my hold. Whatever position we were
in, my teeth were slowly grinding into the bone
of his arm, and again and again I felt his teeth
grating and slipping on my skull as I clawed and
pushed blindly at his face to keep him away.
More and more desperate he grew, and still I hung
on; and while I clung to him in dead silence he
was growling and snarling frantically, and I could
hear his tone getting higher and higher till, just
as I felt the bone giving between my teeth, the
growling broke and changed to a whine, and I
knew that I had won.</p>
<p>One more wrench with my teeth, and I felt his
arm limp and useless in my mouth. Then I let
go, and as he cowered back on three legs I reared
up and fell upon him again, hitting blow after
blow with my paws, buffeting, biting, beating,
driving him before me. Even now he had fight
left in him; but with all his pluck he was helpless
with his crippled limb, and slowly I bore him back
out of the open patch where we had been fighting
into the woods, and yard by yard up the hill, until
at last it was useless for him to pretend to fight
any longer, and he turned and, as best he could,
limping on three legs, ran.</p>
<p>During the whole of the fight the she-bear had
not said a word, but sat on the ground watching
and awaiting the result. While the battle was
going on I had no time to look at her; but in the
intervals when we were taking breath, whenever
I turned in her direction, she avoided my eye and
pretended not to know that I was there or that
anything that interested her was passing. She
looked at the sky and the trees, and washed herself,
or did whatever would best show her indifference.
All of which only told me that she was
not indifferent at all.</p>
<p>Now, when I came back to her, she still pretended
not to see me until I was close up to her,
and when I held out my nose to hers she growled
as if a stranger had no right to behave in that
way. But I knew she did not mean it; and I was
very tired and sore, with blood running from me
in a dozen places. So I walked a few yards away
from her and lay down. In a minute she came
over to me and rubbed her nose against mine, and
told me how sorry she was for having snubbed me,
and then began to lick my wounds.</p>
<p>She told me how splendidly I had fought; and,
mauled though I was, I was very proud and happy.
She in turn told me all about herself. She was
older than I by two years, and the bear that I had
beaten was a year older than myself. She had
known him for some three weeks only, having
met him a few days after her husband and her
two children, the first she had ever had, had been
killed by a thunder-stick. That was a long way off
over there—pointing eastward—and she had been
moving away from the neighbourhood of man ever
since.</p>
<p>That gave us a new bond of sympathy; and I
told her about Kahwa and myself, and how lonely
I had been for the last two summers. Now, with
her help, I proposed not to be lonely any more.
She saw that I was well able to take care of myself
and of her, even though I was only three years old.
If I filled out in proportion to my height and the
size of my bones, there would not be a bear in the
forest that would be able to stand up to me by
the end of next summer. She told me that she
had liked me the moment we met, and had hoped
every minute of the fight that I would win,
though, of course, it would not have been proper
for her to show it. Altogether I was happier than
I had been since the old days before Kahwa was
caught.</p>
<p>As soon as I was fairly rested, we got up and
made our way in the bright moonlight down to
the river, so that I could wash the blood off myself
and get the water into my wounds. We stayed
there for a while, and then returned to the patch
and made a supper off the berries, and later
wandered into the woods side by side. She was
very kind to me, and every caress and every loving
thing she did or said was a delight. It was all so
wonderfully new. And when at last we lay down
under the stars, so that I could sleep after the
strain that I had been through, and I knew that
she was by me, and that when I woke up I
should not be lonely any more, it all seemed
almost too good to be true. It was as if I had
suddenly come into a new world and I was a new
bear.</p>
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