The Man the Bears Wouldn’t Eat

The Man the Bears Wouldn't Eat By H. R. Merrill, of the Brigham Young University lAs I was recently sitting in a moving picture show in Grace, a small town in the southeastern part of the state of Idaho, a local advertisement was flashed upon the screen. It read: William Vaughan, Shoemaker, "The Man The Bears Wouldn't Eat;" Shoes repaired while you wait. I smelled a story. Consequently, I sought Mr. Vaughan early next morning and drew from him this unusual tale. "About thirty-nine and a half years ago — I am now forty- one — I was carried away by an old she-bear from whom I was later rescued by the neighbors, after having been in her pos- session nearly twenty hours. John Allsop, the manager of the picture show, was one of the rescuing party, therefore, when I came back here and began business, he added that line on my ad." "Then the statement is really true?" I inquired. "I suppose so," he replied. "Here I am." "Certainly an unusual story," I responded. "It is a wonder that you are alive." "Oh, not very much of a wonder," he replied. "A bear is as playful as a growing puppy. She merely wished to play with me. She had no intention of harming me." Give me the details of this strange adventure," I suggested. "Not much to it," he declared, rather embarrassedly. "What I know I only have from hear-say. You'd better go over and have Allsop tell it to you." After another importunity he began this brief but rather interesting account: "When I was about eighteen months old my parents, my brothers and sisters, and I lived over in the mouth of one of those big canyons about seven miles from here. We had no very near neighbors in those days. Our house which was built of logs, stood near quite a dense growth of quaking-asp trees (quaking aspens). One day while mother was washing behind the house in the shade, my brothers and sisters started over to one of the neighbors to play. It is thought that I attempted to follow. Anyway, after a little time, mother came around the house to look for us. Upon discovering that we were gone she started to hunt us. She followed my tracks in the dust to a near-by corn-field where they disappeared among the gigantic tracks made very recently by a bear. Mother's heart almost failed her. She searched here and there, but was unable to locate me, although she was half expecting to find

MAN THE BEARS WOULDN'T EAT 447 my mangled body at any moment. This was about 4 p. m. As soon as she discovered that I was really gone she rushed over to the neighbors, about a quarter of a mile away, and told them that I was missing. The neighbor immediately placed a boy on a horse and sent him down the valley (Gentile Valley) to give the alarm while he went with mother and began a search. Soon, twelve men, all of the male residents of the valley, had arrived upon the scene when a more careful and systematic search was begun. For some reason it was impossible to trace the bear, although all felt that she had something to do with my disappearance. Nearly all of the searchers thought they would find mere fragments of me as they believed the bear would eat me. "All night long the search continued and still I was not found. Of course, mother was nearly frantic. The searchers worked in ever widening circles with the house as the center, having the understanding that whoever found me was to fire his gun as a signal. About ten o'clock the following morning a man by the name of E. Goaslind, now dead, found me and fired the signal shot. They found me in a little clearing among the quaking asps, about three and a half miles from the house. Signs that the old bear had been with me very recently — she was probably scared away by the approach of the searchers — were very numerous. Mr. Goasling said I was sleeping peacefully in a little prepared nest, and that I was not injured in anyway except for a small scratch across one cheek where some thorn or bush had scratched me, as I was being carried through the brush. "Of course mother was over-joyed, and all of the , searchers were delighted. Some old hunters among them stated that the bear, in a playful, motherly mood, had carried me away and probably would have merely gone and left me when tired of her play-thing. John Allsop, manager of the picture show, was there when I was found. If you wish to hear his story I am sure he will tell it to you." I later interviewed Mr. Allsop who corroborated Mr. Vaughan's statement. I asked Mr. Vaughan if he had any peculiar feelings toward bears. He replied: "I have been with hunting parties and have seen bears killed, but I have never shot at nor attempted to injure a bear of any kind anywhere. Somehow I have a sort of feeling that they are sacred to me. I would almost as soon shoot a human being as a bear, especially a grizzly bear, as it was a grizzly that carried me off. If she was ever killed, I never heard of it." i Provo, Utah