This is an abbreviated version of the story as told to Budd
Iverson by Mitt Moody, for the full story you can go to this link:
http://brentprince.blogspot.com
Mitt Moody
was an early resident of Pine Valley and the first ranger for Dixie National
Forest. A couple of years after he became the ranger, 3 steers were killed one
night not far from the ranger cabin in Pine Valley. From all indications it
looked like the work of a big bear, but no bears had been seen in the Pine
Valley area for 15 years or nevertheless, the broken neck and deep rake marks
along the bodies indicated not only a bear, but a very big one. Mitt and
several other men hunted for the bear without luck, but found the remains of
another large steer that the bear had been able to kill and then carry across a
meadow and up a steep mountain slope without making any drag marks. A few more
days passed and several more head of cattle were killed. Other cattlemen joined
the search, but they found only more victims but no bear.
Every day for more than a
month, Mitt rode the trails to White Rock, across to Mill Flats, to Anderson
Valley, off the Syler Spring Trail to Browse Creek, then over the hump to Wet
Sandy Trail to climb again to the top through Whipple Valley and all the
meadows in that area, then back across Further Water and back toward Pine
Valley. All the while, he carried a Savage 32-30, one of the best guns of the
time, in the scabbard slung on his saddle, hoping for signs of the bear, but found
no tracks or sign at all.
Together, the
cattlemen of the area posted a reward of $250.00, which was a summers wage at
the time, so there were quite a few hunters searching all over that mountain. For
weeks, they found only more dead cattle or ones with deep rake marks that has
apparently just gotten in the bear's way during a kill. Even when the reward
was raised to $500.00 and more people joined the search, the bear was not
found.
When winter came, the depredations
ceased temporarily, but early the next spring two yearlings were killed and
others soon followed. At each of these places of slaughter that Mitt inspected,
each time finding a broken neck. Apparently the bear would attack by knocking
down the animal with a terrific blow to the top of the back or head. Sometimes
the carcass would be slashed and raked with his great claws like the bear was
venting anger because the animal had run. The tracks indicated this bear had a
left front paw that had been severely injured at one time; possibly he had
ripped his foot out of a bear trap, which had left it badly damaged.
When the killing continued,
the bounty was raised to $1,000.00, a huge amount for the time. Two professional
hunters, brothers by the name of Ganet, came from Colorado with their hounds,
confident that they would get the bear. Within a few days of their arrival, a
big steer was killed in the meadows east of Grant's Ranch. The ten dogs picked
up the bear's trail. Because of the difficulty of the path, one brother
followed after the dogs while Mitt and the other brother lead two packhorses
and rode south. By the evening, the dogs had cornered the bear and were heard
baying. It soon grew too dark for the riders to see to continue, so the dogs
were called back. Eight dogs returned but two didn’t and were later found to be
dead. Early the next morning, they tried to pick up the bear’s trail again. One
of the old dogs bellowed, indicating he had picked up the scent, but after an
hour or so of trying to climb the steep ledge mountainside they gave up and the
dogs were called back. Even as the hunters had been pursuing him, the bear had
killed two heifers during the night and broken the neck of an old milk cow that
had been in the same pasture.
It was decided to give the
dogs a rest until the next kill which came a week later. From the spot, the hunters
followed a trail from Grass Valley toward Mountain Meadows. It was hard country
to ride through on horseback, but the dogs were able to pick up a scent and, at
first, by hard riding, the men kept up with them as they worked in the general
direction of Pine Mountain. As the day went on, the bear moved closer to the
mountain and the dogs followed. The heavy brush became impossible for the
riders to penetrate so some followed on foot. Finally in the evening, the dogs
were again called in with only five of the remaining eight returning. The
brothers had started with ten good tracking dogs and now had only five. Saying
that bear hunters were no good without his dogs, they got on the train and went
back to Colorado.
Mitt didn’t give up and
neither did the bear. Cattlemen began putting their cattle in corrals at night
and posting a guard over them that cut the slaughter, but not entirely. By this
time, the bounty had been raised to $2,000.00 but still there were no sightings.
A heavy snow fell in early November and Mitt found signs that the bear was
looking for a place to bed down for the winter. He continued tracking for days
along a heavy growth of timber not far from the bottom of a canyon. As he
traveled through area that no cattle or riders ever ventured, a winter storm
developed into a blizzard and trapped him for several days until finally he was
able to travel back to the valley on the snowshoes he had brought in his pack,
knowing that the bear had won again for that season.
The next
spring another tracker with his hounds came to collect the bounty. The dogs
were eventually able to pick up a scent but the hunt continued over a hard,
difficult trail all through the rest of June and July. Sometimes they lost his
trail for a week at a time. When the bear eventually killed five of their dogs,
the Wyoming hunters also gave up. They went back to the country where the bears
were not so mean and tough, the mountains so darn rough, and the brush didn't
pull a man out of his saddle.
Mitt continued tracking
through August and September, when one evening just before sundown, he crossed
a small stream and saw in the mud a fresh track of the bear. Mitt pulled his
rifle out of the scabbard and loped up into and on through the thick bunch of
trees. On the other side they thinned out again and there, about 100 yards
distant, was the big bear moving rapidly through the trees toward the mountain.
Bringing his horse to a sliding stop he shot from the saddle just as the bear
disappeared. The solid thunk of the slug told him the bullet had either hit the
bear or a tree but soon saw drops of blood leading to the mountainside. Knowing
a wounded bear was dangerous, he went to find help to hunt for the bear. Three
men offered to assist and the next morning they followed the blood trail,
climbing up through heavy brush to where the ridge blended into the
mountainside. As he looked upward at the ledge above, Mitt saw the bear stand
up at the base of the cliff where he had apparently been lying down. Mitt took
careful aim and squeezed the trigger. A blood chilling squall echoed down the
canyon as the bear reared upward to clasp his front paws across his head. Then
he drooped back on all fours and headed down through the aspen trees toward
Mitt. The Savage 32-30 had 6 more cartridges in it and each time he shot, Old
Bruin squalled but kept coming. He was only a few yards away when Mitt shot him
in the head with the last bullet and then shoved another cartridge from his gun
belt into the chamber and pulled back the hammer. At the last second the rifle
blasted into the bear's open mouth, knocking him down.
Lying practically at his feet
was the huge animal about the size of Mitt's saddle horse in weight and bulk. Just
to make sure the bear was dead, Mitt reached out to cut his throat when the
bear’s hind foot came forward to catch Mitt and throw him about 20 feet into
some brush that cushioned his fall. Mitt carefully climbed over to his gun and
shot the bear again through the ear. It took a team of horses to get the bear
to the Pine Valley ranger station where it was dressed out. It weighed 1,000
pounds or better and the women of the town rendered out more than 100 pounds of
bear grease.
Because Mitt was a public
employee and had killed the bear while on duty, he could not accept the reward
money offered by the stockmen but earned the thanks of the area. The skull and
hide of the bear were sent to the Smithsonian Institute in Washington, DC where
it was mounted and proved to be one of the largest Silver Tip Grizzly Bears
ever killed in the United States.
