ODDS’N’SODS — Ahab of the bush

In 1954, I was working for Inspiration Drilling, and we were carrying out work, for Spanish American Mines, in the Elliot Lake area of Ontario.

In those days, we hauled all our garbage to a make-shift dump a half mile or so from the camp. The dump, however, was frequented by bears — creatures for which the camp’s cook had an extreme dislike. Not being able to have firearms on the property (because of regulations) annoyed the cook to no end, as he was intent on exterminating these bruins no matter what.

Once a week, our service truck made a trip to Blind River to pick up the next week’s grub for the crew. On one of these jaunts, the cook went along to do some personal shopping. When the truck arrived in town, he made a beeline for a furniture and broadloom store and soon emerged with a 20-ft.-long bamboo pole. From the cook’s explanation, the pole was used as a spool for the rugs.

We figured he was going to use the length of grass as a fishing pole, but, as we soon discovered, fishing was the farthest thing from his mind.

Upon returning to camp, he grabbed a swede saw and cut a slot perpendicular to the end of the bamboo shaft. After that task was finished, he meandered over to the cook house and returned with one of his butcher knives. He then filed the copper rivets off the handle, inserted the blade (which looked to be about 2 ft. long) into the slot, re-inserted the rivets through the pole and pounded them flat with a hammer. He then proceeded to the dump.

Right about now, I’m thinking this guy is smoking more than tobacco. We followed him to the dump and could hardly have imagined what we were to witness. One of the bears was back, and the cook, pole in hand, walked closer than usual to the animal, which was startled enough that it rose on its hind legs. The cook then plunged the knife into the bear’s chest not once, but twice. I still have never heard such a roar as the one that bear made. Not wanting to be the bruin’s next meal, I hightailed it out of there at a speed I’ve never been able to duplicate. I was shaking like a leaf when I arrived back at the camp.

The cook eventually returned to the camp, with his spear, and said that he had got the bear. I can’t repeat in print what I told this bozo, but the next day he hiked it up the road armed with only his packsack.

— The author, a product manager at Major Drilling, resides in North Bay, Ont.

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