The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1883-09-07
The Love Of Bears for Melons.

L once worked on water melon
plantation where we had 100 acres
under vines at one time. The curious
thing about the business was that our
hardest fight wasn't agin weeds. 1t was
agin bears-black bears. We'd got
the vines all shooting along, some of
them with MELONS on 'em as big as a
pumpkin, and the old man was getting
the road to the river cleared out, so as
to be ready for shipping, when one
morning in came one of the boys, and
says he:
'.Something has broke down the
worm fence and battered up about an
acre of the vines in the clearin'."
We'd just cleared about ten acres of
woodland the past winter, and melons
were doing amazingly well in that field.
So you may know the old man was
mad when he heard this. Him and ]
went down to see what was up, and we
saw in minute that it was bears.
There were tracks, just as they were
made by men walking on their hands,
in the soft earth all over the field, and
the vines were torn up and ripe and
green melons mashed to flinders in a
way that nothing but bear could do.
They'll be back tonight" said the
old man. ''You and Josh and Henry
clean out your rifles and be ready for
EN-"
There was a full moon that night,
and L tell you things looked purity.
Josh and Henry and settin' behind
stumps, with our rifles across our laps,
waiting. The fence was still torn down
at the point nearest the woods, and the
moonlight shining on the dark forest,
where we expected the bears to come
from, and then on the field of water
melon vines, whose white tendrils glis-
tened like silver, looked mighty purity.
Now and then we heard a screech owl
yelling down in the woods, but we didn't
pay no Alteration to that; and presently
l saw q bear come out and walk slowly
into the field. He was big fellow, as
black as coal in the moonlight, and he
wasn't in any hurry either. He saun-
tered along as slow as you please over
to big striped Georgia melon, and,
settin' down on his hams, he just picked
that melon up in his two fore paws and
smashed it between 'em like paper. In
half a minute his whole head was drip
ping with juice, and 1 could hear him
smacking his lips like hog.
We let him alone, according to the
old mans instructions, waiting until
there should be bear apiece for us, for
the tracks showed that at least six of
'em had been around the night before.
In a few minutes along came another
one, and then there walked in an old
she with two little ones at her heels.
We had three bears now, but nary one
of us fired. Watching them bears was
the biggest picnic ever saw. Some
times they'd catch UP melon just as
you'd take up a BABY, and, holding it
close to 'em, travel across the field on
their hind legs until they'd see a bigger
one, and then smash would go the rind,
and juice would drip of 'em like they
had just come out of bath.
l was watching the old she teaching
her young ones how to break into the
juicy parts when crack went Josh's
rifle, and the whole gang started on
run. The vines tripped 'em up so that
they couldn't 60 very fast, and we each
bagged one of 'em, mine being one of
the young ones. We watched every
night after that till the season was over,
but they were kind of wary now, and
we never shot more than one in night
While we'd be sitting in one field wait
ing for them, they'd be rip-snorting
away at the fruit on the other side OF
the plantation.
bears are keener after water-melons
than a negro, and 1 can say no more
than that. ''-Denuer Republican.