CATCHING THE BRONX PARK MERRIAMI 



By BELMORE H. BROWNE 



HE spring of 1903 

 found four of us on 

 the Bering Sea 

 coast. We had 

 cached our little 

 schooner in one of 

 the deep fjords 

 that gash the south 

 shore of the Alaska 

 peninsula, and had 

 packed our grub 

 and 30-40' s across 

 the snowy mountains to the north, or 

 Bering Sea side. 



Once on the north side we hunted 

 up a skiff we had heard of, and with it 

 navigated the bleak coast where the 

 snow melts into the sea, and seals bark 

 and tumble in the surf. 



We were hunting the Ursus merri- 

 ami, one of the six species of brown 

 bear found in Alaska. The range of the 

 family stretches from somewhere south 

 of Sitka, in Alaska, to Kamtschatka, on 

 the western coast of Bering Sea, and 

 they are the largest carnivo known. 



We hoped to kill a perfect species of 

 the merriami bear, as Andrew J. Stone, 

 who was the head of our party, was 

 collecting large mammals for the Amer- 

 ican Museum of Natural History. We 

 were also particularly anxious to cap- 

 ture a specimen alive, as at that time 

 there was not one of these grand ani- 

 mals in captivity. 



There is probably no country in the 

 world where food is more easily ob- 

 tained than along the Bering Sea coast 

 in the spring time. Caribou — Rangifer 

 granti — are numerous, and, despite the 

 long winters, the flesh of the young 

 bulls is good. Harbor seals frequent 

 the bays, and seal liver with bacon 

 makes a grand breakfast. Sea gulls 

 nest by thousands on the surf-washed 

 islands, and their eggs, fried or scram- 



bled, are delicious, though they taste 

 fishy when boiled. 



Scallops and clams are abundant, and 

 the waters teem with salmon and cod. 



The country we hunted was very 

 mountainous, and there was no timber 

 The only wood was willow and aldei. 

 The willows are small and do not count 

 much as game cover, but the alders 

 grow to a good size and form tangled 

 thickets. These thickets are the home 

 of the brown bears. In summer, bear 

 hunting is practically impossible, be- 

 • cause of the dense growth of grass 

 which covers the country. The grass 

 reaches a height of over six feet, and 

 flourishes on the high mountain sides 

 as well as in the sheltered valleys. At 

 this time of year the bears' skins are 

 worthless. The hair is thin, and wears 

 away in large patches, giving the big 

 brutes a decidedly ragged appearance. 



In the spring the grass is pressed flat 

 by the winter snows and the new crop 

 has not as yet grown to any height. 



These conditions make ideal hunt- 

 ing, as game can be seen at a great 

 distance. 



In color the Ursus merriami may be 

 almost any shade of brown, ranging 

 from darkest brown to yellowish white. 

 Individuals often combine several 

 shades, but the darkest coloring is 

 usually on the legs and belly, while the 

 back is light. 



The pelage compared with that of 

 the grizzly bear is longer and shaggier, 

 and the tufts of bear hair caught on 

 the brush along the bear trails suggests 

 the coarse-matted hair of the Ameri- 

 can bison. 



In hunting we left camp about one 

 A. M., as the nights were very short. 

 In fact, it is never really dark in the 

 springtime. The soft sunset glow 

 lingers for hours among the snow- 



