LIFE UP THE EDDY (10): BEAR STORIES

Late one day, towards the end of summer, I walked into town to play baseball with my Hot Stove League team. We didn’t call it Little League in our town. I think I must have been about fourteen years old, so it would have been around 1957.

As I walked the two miles down Hemlock Road into town from the Eddy, I carried my bat on my shoulder and had my spikes and my glove hanging over the bat. I had on my uniform. That year our team was sponsored by the local VFW, and that’s what it said on my ball hat. When I got to the first house at the edge of town, it was still a mile and a half to the ball diamond. The game was at our home field at a grade school about a mile from the east edge of town.

That day we played the boys from the west side of our little town. They were mostly kids from Italian families. They all had black hair. We knew them in school, and they were Yankee fans. Most of my teammates had Swedish and German names. Almost all our boys were towheads. We liked the Pirates. I always played third base.

That night, I was happy. We beat the west side boys. We were behind by a run in the last of the seventh inning. That’s when I hit a two-run homer and won the game.

It was still daylight after the game when I walked back through the east side to the edge of town. I had a nickel, so I stopped at Hadden’s Confectionary and bought a maple sugar candy before I headed back up the Eddy.

When I passed the last house on Hemlock Road, I slowed down at that spot, just as I always did, to admire the scene ahead of me. There were just woods on my left all the way to the top of the hill, way beyond where you could see. On my right and spreading out down below and ahead of me was the Allegheny which curved east and out of sight upriver. Across the river, the high river ridge continued upstream, parallel to the river below. I always had a feeling at that spot that I was free from town.

*******

About a hundred yards farther up the road, there was a little rise. Beyond that, the road fell down hill for a ways. So, from where I stood, I couldn’t see the road past the rise. That evening, as I passed my favorite spot and came to the rise, I saw something start to appear on the other side of it. I walked a few more steps but stopped cold when a big black bear took shape on top of the rise. It looked like a big male. We were about forty yards apart. I froze. The bear froze.

I stood completely still. The bear stood still. He was looking straight at me. I didn’t want to run. He might chase me. Seconds went by. I wondered if I could hit him with my bat if he came at me. I took the bat off my shoulder and let my glove and spikes slide to the blacktop. He was still staring at me. I raised up my bat. I was ready to hit him hard. It seemed like we stood there for a long time.

*******

But then, I heard a quiet clicking sound behind me. It was a motor. At first, I didn’t take my eyes off the bear. But a gray Jeep truck quietly pulled up beside me. It was our neighbor Mr. MacIntire in his truck that he used on all his oil leases. He lived about a half mile away from us up the Eddy.

I grabbed up my gear and tossed it in the truck bed. I glanced at the bear when I flung open the truck door and jumped in. While I was jumping into the truck, the bear turned suddenly, leaped up the steep bank, and disappeared into the woods.

When I landed on the seat, I took a big breath. The cab and Mr. MacIntire smelled like crude oil. It was silent for a few seconds while he put the Jeep in gear and started us up the road. Then he turned to me with a friendly smile and said in his North Carolina mountain accent, “Well now, Billy. What was you going to do if I didn’t come along?”

I had no answer. I just shook my head. He dropped me off when we came to his lane. I walked the last half mile home.

******

A couple years later, just before Halloween, I had a hunting license and was old enough to go out hunting alone without a relative or some other adult. In the fall, I loved to go out in the hills after school and go hunting till dark. The woods held a special attraction when September and October came, and the trees on miles of hillsides turned their leaves from green to bright reds, yellows, and purples.

One day in late October, I got off the school bus up on the main road and hurried down the road into the Eddy to get ready to go deer hunting with my bow. It was my new bow that I bought at Red’s Barbershop and Sporting Goods. It was a wooden, forty-pound-pull, straight bow.

It was a bright sunny afternoon. I told Mom that I was going hunting and would be back at dark. And would she please keep supper warm for me. I went down the tracks for about a quarter mile and crossed over the field at old Mrs. Elliot’s farm. The field was completely full of goldenrod flowers. I stopped for a second just to take in their sweet odor before going on and across the main road to the woods.

*******

When I stepped into the edge of the woods, I paused to catch my breath and look at bright colored leaves that shone in the afternoon sun on the trees ahead of me. I began to walk quietly uphill, hoping I might get a shot at a deer. Although the sun was out, it had rained the day before, and the leaves on the forest floor were still wet. I could walk silently as I hunted.

We didn’t use tree stands in those days. Instead, we often hunted at the edge of a high ridge, or from on top of one of the huge, moss-covered rocks up on the hilltop.

The late afternoon sun was casting shadows on the forest floor. As I made my way uphill, there were bright spots in the woods where the sun filtered down through the trees. I eased through the woods slowly and quietly, hoping that I might see a deer.

*******

About a half hour after I had entered the woods, I was about halfway to the top of the hill. As I was scanning the woods for deer, I thought I saw something move about thirty or forty yards off to my right. I stood still. Nothing. When I started climbing again, I saw a slight movement again in the shadows off to my right. I stopped.

I started uphill again, still scanning the woods to my right. Then I saw him. A huge black bear moved into a patch of sunlight. I stopped. The bear stopped. He wasn’t looking in my direction. His head was down like he might be eating some huckleberries. I was surprised that I had sneaked up on him and had not scared him away.

Usually, I took a gun when I went into the woods. So, I was a little nervous standing there with just my bow. Besides, it wasn’t bear season, even if I wanted to shoot him. He was downwind of me, and I was sure he would smell me and run away when I started walking again.

I watched him for a couple minutes and quietly started walking further up the hill. When I stopped, I saw him again. He was the same distance away from me and looking in my direction. We both stood still.

I walked a little further up the hill and stopped again. I looked off to my right. There was the bear standing behind a tree in the shadows. Then I realized he was walking parallel to me. He was hunting me. I felt a shiver. The late afternoon shadows were getting longer. I knew it got dark in the woods sooner than in open ground. I knew I couldn’t defend myself against that big bear with my bow.

I gave up on deer hunting and turned downhill. At first, I walked slowly and quietly, but then faster. When I got near the edge of the woods, I hopped and jumped down the steep hillside to the road.

When I got to the middle of the field, the sun was starting to fall behind the hills to the west. I turned and looked back up the hill. Nothing.

It was cooling off. When I walked to the middle of the field, the damp goldenrod smell was all around. The last sunlight of the day was lighting up all their bright yellow flowers. I paused to take it all in. I glanced back up at the woods. Then I went up the tracks and back home for supper.