This actually happened to me this past spring. You've heard the one about the three little pigs, this is the one about the three little bears.
It all started last deer season when I began noticing a lot of bear activity in my favorite deer woods. I was still thinking about all that bear sign in March so I decided to try a spring bear hunt. As soon as the snow had melted enough, I did some scouting and found a great little spot near a small creek, next to a beaver pond. Found, that if I made a breech in the beaver dam the rushing water would hide the sounds of a creaky tree stand or an impatient bow-hunter. I'm not known for being still or quiet in my stand.
Anyway the time finally came to set up the bait, first week of May in this area. Set up my tree stand in a cedar so I was almost completely hidden from any unsuspecting bear. Set the bait about eighteen yards from the stand. Lots of donuts and suet, all soaked with molasses went into a very large plastic barrel with an eighteen inch square hole cut into the side. Covered the barrel with dead logs and did a honey burn to advertise the location to the bears. The place looked great. Decided to give it three or four days for the bears to find the bait.
Sure enough on my next trip into the bait I was not disappointed, it had been clobbered, so I refreshed the bait and got out of there. Decided to give it another three days before checking the bait again. Same story the bait had been hit again only this time it looked as though the barrel had been licked clean, this place was ready for hunting. Re-baited and decided to hunt the following evening.
Arrived at the bait site a lot later than I would have liked but decided to give it a try anyway. I got to within thirty yards of the bait only to glimpse the back end of a bear busting his way through the bush away from me, could have kicked myself for being so impatient. Should have waited rather than going in so late. Little did I know that I was in for one of the most memorable hunts I have ever had. I climbed into my tree stand but before I could get settled I heard a twig snap directly behind the bait. Couldn't see anything so I settled in and got ready.
About fifteen minutes passed before I noticed a patch of black heading toward the bait. Problem was it turned out to be a cub of about eighty pounds, he came in as bold as brass or as dumb as a post. Think it was the latter. This little guy entertained me for the better part of an hour until he was joined by two other cubs that were slightly smaller than the first one. The first one figured the bait was his and wouldn't let the other two near it. Every time the newcomers would go near the bait the first one would growl and swat at them, this guy was a regular little bully.
I watched the antics of these three little bears for three consecutive nights, all the time waiting on the bigger bear that I knew was hitting the site. I had seen a five inch track on one of my previous visits, it was just a matter of waiting him out.
On the fourth night of cub watching a strange thing happened. The little bully got fed up with trying to defend the bait from the smaller cubs, so he decided to climb inside the barrel. Guess he figured it was easier to defend. Every time the smaller cubs tried to get some of the food, they would get a swat on the nose for their efforts. Everything was working out fine for the little bully until the smaller cubs took off on the run. They stopped about twenty yards behind the bait and looked directly at the tree I was sitting in. With some effort on my part I looked behind me, and sure enough there was the owner of the five inch track.
My heart started pounding as the big one started toward the bait, he was a beauty of about three hundred pounds, and after watching the cubs for four days he looked like a giant. The little bully was still in the barrel and was unaware that he was about to have the tables turned on him. When the big one got to within a couple of yards of the barrel the little bully came tearing out, but instead of taking off like the other two he decided to climb a tree. Problem was the tree was already occupied, by me.
So here I am sitting in my tree stand, eyeball to eyeball with an eighty pound black bear, and a three hundred pound bear making like he is going to climb the tree. Luckily I was sitting in a clump cedar and the little bully chose a different trunk to climb. When the little bully discovered he was not alone, the expression on his face turned from complete panic to what have I got myself into now.
Anyway after awhile the big bear gave up on the little bully up the tree and turned his interest to the bait. Every time I tried to raise my bow to get off a shot the little guy sitting with me would make a noise. It is very difficult to concentrate when you're sitting in a tree stand only two yards from a black bear, cub or not this little bully could rip my leg off. After awhile the big bear wandered off and the little cub used the opportunity to scramble down the tree and get out of there. I also used the opportunity to get out of the tree. All in all one of the most exciting experiences I've had in twenty-two years of bow-hunting.
When I look back on this hunt, it won't be for the three hundred pound bear I harvested a few days later. It will be for that little bully and his friends that entertained me this past spring. If I ever come across this little guy again, I don't think I could bring myself to shoot him. Easy to recognize, he has a white crescent blaze on his chest. I know this for sure, I spent half an hour staring at it from two yards away.
Bill Jones