The Bear & the Boy Scouts
July, 1997

The young black bear padded along the forest path and times were good. Chipmunks were everywhere, the new growth of late spring leaves and berries was at its peak, and bees busily buzzed their way toward hives rapidly filling with honey. The bear had left its mother's side only a few months earlier, but, already, it was doing well at fending for itself in the territory that it thought of as its own. This territory consisted mostly of a dozen forest covered hills and a few meadows, but there was one part of its range that was different for it included a camp of many trails, streams and ponds inhabited by a few men and a lot of mysterious tents. The streams of this camp were full of crayfish, and that was what the bear was thinking about as it turned onto a path that ran beside a narrow country road.

The bear was used to the passing of an occasional car on roads such as this, and had learned from its mother to step into the woods until they passed, but this day was different. Cars, trucks and vans poured by in a constant stream toward the camp, and progress for the bear was slow and frustrating. Then, strangely, all the traffic reversed and came just as busily from the other direction. Finally, late in the afternoon, the road became quiet once again and the bear trudged onward, unhindered by traffic.

The bear finally got to the camp at dusk, and was immediately aware of great changes. In the distance, he heard the shouts and songs of a very large number of boys, and the mysterious tents were now full of mysterious stuff. Some of this stuff smelled like new kinds of food, but the smell of so many men made the bear cautious, and so it made its way down to the crayfish stream to scratch out its last meal of the day.

Like Adam and his apple, a tasty red fruit caused the bear's later problems. For, smack in the middle of the stream, the bear found a watermelon, smashed by a careless camp counselor. After a sniff and a nibble, the bear's dinner plans changed from crunchy brown insects to juicy red fruit. As the bear ate, the strange goodness of the meal took away some of its fear of men and it decided to hang around the camp and see what other food might be there for the taking.

Just as he finished with the watermelon, the Boy Scouts returned to their campsite above the stream and the bear rapidly retreated up the opposite hill to silently wait and watch the camp below. What he saw was strange and made no sense to him. Boys ran in all directions. Some made straight for the stream and started searching for crayfish, or made channels from stones and held boat races with small, whittled sticks. Up at the campsite, other Scouts made a large bonfire and a guitar was brought out and songs were sung. Under some open sided tents, groups of Scouts gathered to open Merit Badge books and begin the reading and writing requirements that would lead to badges later in the week. The bear understood none of this, save that the smell of marshmallows, cookies and cake made its mouth water.

As the night wore on, the Scouts below continued to raise a ruckus on this, their first night out. The bear grew weary and dozed off. Slowly, slowly the noises changed from songs and shouts to snores and the creaking of bed springs. The boys slept, and the bear opened an eye and gave the night air a sniff. What was that smell? To you it would smell like a mix of honey, bacon and pineapple; to the bear it smelled exotically delicious.

Snuffling the breeze, the bear slowly and quietly made its way up stream to the mess hall. There he found a large dumpster full of food scraps, but this was too difficult to open. Never mind; the delicious smell was closer now and was not in the dumpster. Here it was, behind a yellow plastic tape that read, "Bear Trap --- Humans Beware!" Of course, the bear didn't pause to read the warning (they never do) and as he bit into the tempting bait, a strong metal trap attached itself to his leg. He lurched and rumbled and pulled and pushed, until finally the trap held him only by a single toe. But that was as far as he could go toward getting the thing off his foot. Then, (maybe it was something he ate) the bear started to feel funny. Slowly, he sprawled on the ground, and began to snore.

The bear did not remember being shot with a tranquilizer that morning, but it did remember waking up and being unable to move. Around him, talking and pointing and lifting his legs and patting his back were a large number of men and boys who didn't seem the least bit scared. They weighed him (212 pounds) and pulled out one of his smaller teeth to determine his age (2 years.) While this was going on, word went round the camp that the bear was going to be hauled away soon, and more and more kids appeared to see the grand departure.

Finally, five men lifted the animal up and placed him in a large blue barrel on wheels. A truck then hauled this to a distant forest where our poor friend the bear was taken out of the barrel and left to recover from the effects of the tranquilizing drugs.

Back at the camp, the director was relieved that one more bear had been removed to a safe distance from the boys; while three of the Scouts decided that they wanted to catch bears and help preserve them when they grew up. A little way down the road, one year-round resident of the area was outraged that her friendly neighbor, the bear, had been tricked, trapped and transported away from his home.

And what became of the bear? The young black bear padded along the forest path and times were good. Chipmunks were everywhere, the new growth of late spring leaves and berries was at its peak, and bees busily buzzed their way toward hives rapidly filling with honey. And, the bear walked back toward the far distant camp and dreamed of the taste of watermelons.