The Bear

I’m going to string a tale here about how I became an honorary member of the Sioux nation. I was out last month stealing horses from the Double T ranch just below the South Saskatchewan River in the Great Sand Hills with my good pal Johnny Two Fingers.

I started following a set of tracks down into a coulee, leaving Johnny up on the plains. I followed for quite some time getting all kinds of wet, when in the distance I hear this menacing growl. Naturally my pony was some kind of spooked but I had with me a spring bear tag and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

I weaved in and out of a grove of large birch until I could smell the beast. There in front of me was a mammoth 700 pound sow with cubs at her side. As the chill escapes my spine, I am brought back to realty by this yelling coming from above me. The bear had chased two men up the tree. I inched closer, trying to avoid the bear when I realized that I knew the two guys up in the tree. One was a Cree fellow, Gerald three pennies. Gerald is a rotten man that I know from my days on the powwow trail this past winter with the Prince Albert band Thunder Rolls. Gerald is the kind a guy that steals your truck and leaves you stranded without any pants in the Shelbrook hotel at four in the morning, but that is a tale for another time. The other man was Ronnie Runs With A Fist. Ronnie is a well respected man from the Sioux nation, cousin by marriage to Gerald. Old Ronnie is a descendent of the great warrior chief, Crazy Horse.

Anyway back to the story. The two start yelling at me to save them. Now under normal conditions it is highly illegal to put down a mother with cubs at her side, but I was pretty certain that bear was about two minutes from a Gerald Three Penny sandwich, so I pulled my rifle from its case, put up the cross hairs and click. Click….. click….. The thing doesn’t fire. Now were really fucked. The bear is still raging away and is now starting to sway the tree back and forth and the two up top are almost in tears. Ronnie yells down at me, "Jeff, if you get me out of this, I will make it worth your while."

"Jeff, Do you remember Genie from the Black Hills powwow…." Now I remember genie. Five foot six with the shiniest black hair down past the curve of her… well you get the picture. Genie is a fox, a woman with the grace of God and the tenacity of a wild filly. Just the thought that a girl with Genie’s beauty will even glance at me is enough to get me out of bed in the morning. Well low and behold Ronnie offers to set me up on a date if I can solve this bear issue. As for Gerald, well Gerald…. He’d never give anyone anything and besides, the fucker owed me 600 bones for that ol’ truck of mine he stole and banged up. But then again I don’t ever want to see anyone die so I decided I would figure him into my plan as well.

Right then I remembered about my peanut butter sandwich in the pack. I was hoping to have it stick to my ribs in about an hour or so but that peanut butter sandwich was destined for higher realms. I began to formulate a plan. I would go around to the opposite side that the bear was on and on my signal Ronnie and Gerald were to run as fast as they could toward me. I relayed the plan to the boys, and while they seemed a touch tentative, they really had no choice. So I wheeled up some courage and yelled NOW! The only thing between me and my date with Pocahontas was a peanut butter sandwich. Out of the tree come Gerald and Ronnie running straight toward me, eyes ablaze. I closed my eyes and pictured Genie’s soft hair blowing in the wind and with that I knew I would not let down Ronnie. With the bear nipping at their heels I wound up and let rip the peanut butter sandwich. All those years tossing rocks into open grain cars at the rail yard had paid off. The sandwich was right on its mark. Like a homer at Yankee stadium the PB and J smashed right into Gerald’s face. In a sea of bread, jam and crushed peanuts, Gerald lost his footing and the bear was quickly on top of him.

Ronnie and I scrambled to my mount, escaping the ivory white jaws of the black bear. Away we went, riding towards town, sunset bathing our shoulders. Now luckily Ronnie was not totally a fan of Gerald anyway and was in fact so grateful I had saved his life that he vowed not only to set me up on that date, but to make me an honorary member of the Sioux nation.





So as with any story, there must be a moral. And the moral of the story here is that if you are ever in a bear encounter, don’t get so concerned with the bear, just get concerned about whoever you have to outrun.