By Larry Weishuhn
“Last week a big boar chased a bowhunter out of the woods we’ll be hunting! According to the hunter the bear spotted him well over a hundred yards away and immediately started toward him. The hunter began backing up. The bear kept coming, walking faster, then, ran directly toward him. The guy turned and ran for his life. He reached his pick-up only a few steps ahead of the bear.” So said Dick Ray as we drove toward camp. I was hunting black bear with him and his brother Sam on Arizona’s White Mountain Apache Reservation. Dick continued, “I know you’re looking for a big blond bear we’ve seen numerous times lately. But, if you encounter the aggressive bear while we’re hunting you may have to shoot him in self-defense! He might not give you a choice.”
I really wanted a big color phase black bear; a chocolate, cinnamon, anything lighter than jet black bear. Over the years I had been fortunate to take some really big jet-black bears as black as the ace of spades. I had taken a couple of color-phase bears, but they were not what I would consider BIG!
After stowing gear, Sam suggested since it was too late to release their hounds, we go sit where we could watch converging trails leading to a waterhole. He said the area was not far from where the bowhunter had been chased out of the woods.
An hour later, Sam and I pushed our way into several low growing oaks that formed a perfect “hide”.
At the time I was hunting with a .50 caliber muzzleloader a T/C 209x50 Encore, stoked with 100-grains of Pyrodex below a 250-grain Hornady XTP sabot bullet. I had brought a muzzleloader I had loaded before leaving camp. I capped it when we got set up in our ground blind. The 209x50 rested on shooting sticks. The other was laying immediately to my right within in reach for a quick follow up shot, should one be needed.
A light wind blew from the waterhole into our faces.
We had been “on stand” less than 30 minutes when I heard something coming up behind us, directly downwind. I slowly turned to look at the source of the noise. Through oak leaves and limbs, I could see a big black hulk. As it got closer I could see the bear’s ears hanging on the side of his massive head. He was HUGE in every way. There was a shooting lane to my immediate right. I moved the shooting sticks and muzzleloader so I could shoot left-hand.
In spite of the wind blowing toward the bear, he paid no attention to our scent. He stepped into the shooting lane to my right, facing us less than twelve yards away. Immediately he popped his teeth, laid back his ears and charged. Thankfully, I had cocked the muzzleloader’s hammer as soon as I spotted the bear and I was set up to shoot left-hand.
The bear was close and coming fast, I sighted down the side of the barrel rather than look through my scope. By time I could pull the trigger, he was less than fifteen feet away, coming fast.
The Hornady bullet hit the bear squarely in his chest. He stopped, turned and thank goodness ran away rather than complete his charge. No sooner had I pulled the trigger, I dropped the 209x50 and reached for the second muzzleloader also an inline. I turned to do so. There less than six inches away from my face was Sam’s .44 Mag Ruger Blackhawk revolver pointing where the bear had been. He smiled, “I wasn’t going to let him get any closer!”
I reloaded the 209x50 muzzleloader; then we started after the bear. He left a broad blood trail and we found him dead, within seventy yards. Up close he was even bigger than I had imagined. Later on official scales he weighed 563 pounds and his hide squared 7-feet 8-inches without any stretch. Around the bullet hole in his chest was a burned hair spot three inches wide. He had been close, too close!
When we field-dressed him we could see the Hornady XTP had taken out the top of his heart. We found the bullet perfectly mushroomed in his left hindquarter. Perfect bullet performance!
There was no doubt the bear had every intention of completing the charge and would have had I not stopped him. He knew we were there. He obviously was not afraid of humans, based on the experience he had had with the bowhunter and what he attempted to do with me. He thought he was “the king of the mountain”. Obviously he was wrong…
Later, another place another time!
“He’s not stopping! SHOOT!” Less than a heart beat later a rifle fired and the charging black bear died in mid-stride. Momentum carried him to less than three feet from where we stood. After making certain the bear was dead, I looked over at my companion, somewhat ashen in color and trembling. I extended a congratulatory hand, “GREAT shot!”
“There wasn’t time to aim…” said he. I smiled.
What lead up to that moment had begun when the outfitter started baiting for the upcoming bear season. It had ended just now!
My two companions and I had arrived in bear camp earlier in the week, when we did our outfitters pulled me aside. “There’s a bait we have set up which has been taken over by a very aggressive boar. He’s getting more bravo every time we freshen the bait. Yesterday he charged me before I got to the barrel. I had to throw my bait sack at him, then started backing out. Thankfully he stopped, started eating the beaver tail I had in the bag. It’s just a matter of time before he will keep coming.” He continued, “We’ll give him three days, then go back with a hunter.” Before I could volunteer my services he added, “Got a couple of places where I’ve seen big boars I think will square over seven feet. Want you to hunt one of those.”
That settled that! I suggested he consider the guy who had come with me from Texas. Two days later I shot one of the black boars the outfitter had told me about. I shot him with my .45-70 Marlin Guide Rifle, using 300-grain Hornady soft point ammo. The 7-feet, 2-inch squared boar’s skull green scored 21-inches. He dried to 20 12/16ths, just missing the all-time Boone and Crockett Record Book. The minimum is 21-inches.
My bear had died in his tracks. The Hornady 300-grain Soft Point had done its job.
“Chad has seen some bears but mostly sows and a couple of small boars. Think he’d be interested in tackling the aggressive boar?” Asked the outfitter, Richard Le Fluer. Chad had been the original hunter I suggested to take on the aggressive boar, should he not score early in the hunt.
“I’ll back him up, in case he needs help.” Said I.
We approached Chad over lunch. He was most interested and excited for such a chance!
A couple of hours later we beached the outfitter’s boat. Chad made certain his Ruger M77, .300 Win Mag was loaded with one in the chamber and 3 ready to follow suit. Then, we cautiously approached the bait site. We got to within fifty yards of the bait. There we could see a black form striding back and forth behind the barrel. We took four steps toward the bait. Here he came at a run! It always amazes me how fast a charging black bear can run, literally like black lightning. Soon as I saw the bear charging I took a step backwards allowing Chad to swing his rifle into action…. I heard our guide shout “Shoot!”
Chad did and dropped the fast charging bear with a great shot!
That night, long after the coyotes finished their evening serenade, Chad was retelling his charge by a bear tale for at least the fortieth time.
A few years later I hunted black bear with Buck Bowden’s Hidden Alaska Guides southeast of Anchorage. We, my cameraman, John Teeter and I, were spike-camped fifteen miles from Buck’s Mosquito Lake base. First night in camp we were “visited” by a likely three-year old boar. He walked around our tent all night long, occasionally “woofing” to express his displeasure of us invading his domain. Thankfully he was gone next morning when we crawled out of our tent to begin the hunt. That night, he was back. This time he brushed against our tent.
During the night he began pushing his nose against the tent wall. He was going too far!
I told Teeter to grab my Ruger Blackhawk .44 Mag loaded with Hornady 240-grain XTPs. I grabbed the Ruger Model 77 7x57 I had brought to hunt. It was loaded with Hornady’s 140 grain Soft Points.
The bear stuck his nose against and into the tent wall. I reared back with both legs, laying on my back for extra leverage, and hit the bear on the nose as as hard as I could with both feet. He tumbled backwards, growled and left at a run. I laid back down on my cot thinking I had remedied the situation and the bear would not be back. I was wrong!
A couple of minutes later I heard the bear walking around our tent, “woofing” and popping his jaws. He continued doing so for a solid hour, then finally I heard him drift away. I went to sleep.
Next morning, before opening the tent I told Teeter to be ready in case the bear charged us when I opened the tent flap. Soon as I opened the tent’s front flap I spotted him. He was seventy-five yards away staring at out tent. Soon as he saw me open the tent flap, he charged! I already had rifle in hand, loaded and pointed at the bear, then picked a spot twenty steps distant. If he did not stop by the time he reached that imaginary line, I would be forced to shoot and hopefully kill him before he reached us.. He came hard and fast! At twenty-five steps he slowed then stopped. There he walked back and forth popping his jaws and “woofing”. I waited, Ruger at shoulder, off of “safe”! Five minutes later he retreated and disappeared into a thicket. I breathed a huge sigh of relief, wondering if I had even breathed during that time.
I really did not want to kill the bear. I was looking for one much bigger. He appeared to be three to four years old, an age when he was trying to prove himself as being tough! Still…I was wondering if I would be given much of a choice to kill him or not if he came back again.
I was preparing breakfast when the bear reappeared. Soon as he did, I picked up my rifle. The boar raised his head looked my direction and charged! When he got to within thirty yards I shot immediately in front of him, throwing dirt and gravel in his face. I did not wait for him to come any closer. If he indeed intended to complete the charge, I wanted time to reload for second and killing shot. Thankfully he stopped 20-yards away, glared at me. I could see evil in his small dark eyes. I was unsure what he would do next. If he came I would have to do my best to kill him before he reached me. After an eternity, he turned and ran away. I thought we were finally rid of him.
Again, I was wrong! He returned a few minutes later, walking around camp a hundred yards out. I knew if we stayed in the area it was only a matter of time before he would try to complete the charge and I would indeed have to shoot him or he was going to hurt us!
I hated to leave the area because I knew there were huge black bear around, based on paw prints. I had one bear tag and I really wanted to use it on a big bear, rather than on a cantankerous younger and smaller one. Reluctantly, I used the satellite phone to call Buck to ask him to come get us and move us to another area.
While we waited on Buck to arrive, the bear kept circling our tent. As he did I recalled what Buck had told me about bear attacks. “if you are attacked and mauled by a grizzly, play dead and he’ll leave you alone. Get attacked by a black bear, keep fighting because if you play dead, he’s going to eat you!”
Thankfully Buck got us out of the area before I had to shoot the aggressive young boar. I have long wandered what became of that aggressive young boar!
Remind me sometime to tell you about another black bear adventure that involved a 2x4 board, a sling-shot and a young aggressive bear that tried crawling onto my treestand with me…
If you would like to read more of Larry’s bear and other hunting stories please go to his new website www.larryweishuhn.net where you can also listen to his weekly “DSC’s Campfires with Larry Weishuhn” podcast, watch the weekly digital tv show “A Sportsman’s Life” he co-hosts with Luke Clayton and Jeff Rice, and order his two latest books, DEER ADDICTIONS and also CAMPFIRE TALK co-authored with Luke Clayton.