It sounds like the dogs chased the bear right to the hunter:
Quote:
Bear hunter recalls moment when prey became predator
By Craig Welch
Seattle Times staff reporter
Anton Cebe was following the hunting dogs through thick alder and fir trees when he heard a commotion and a shout — more of a growling yelp than a scream.
Seconds later, he saw the bear and fired. The animal dropped.
"I knew something had happened," said Cebe, 24, of Cle Elum, Kittitas County. "I just didn't know what."
Cebe and three other hunters had spent Saturday on private land just outside Olympic National Park, trying to track a hungry black bear that had been stripping bark from valuable Douglas fir trees to reach the sugary sap on the trunk.
Now it was almost dusk. The bear was dead, and Cebe was racing back, shouting to his partner, Dave Johnson.
"I called to Dave and he just said, 'It got me, it got me,' " Cebe said. "When I finally reached him, I could tell it wasn't that bad. There wasn't much blood. But it was startling. What do you do when your friend has bite marks on him? It was weird, man."
The precise circumstances of the mauling Saturday evening by a 300-pound black bear were still unclear Monday. Johnson, who suffered a broken arm and wrist and bite wounds on his leg, was the only witness, and he remained hospitalized at Harborview Medical Center in Seattle.
But authorities and fellow hunters suspect the hunting dogs just drove the bear back through dense brush toward Johnson, catching both man and bear by surprise.
"I think they kind of spooked each other," Cebe said. "I don't know if Dave tried to run or maneuver or just didn't have the opportunity. Nine times out of 10, if you see a bear, and he sees you, he's gonna go the other way. But the dogs were behind him [the bear]."
Cebe, Johnson and two others, all experienced hunters, had been hired by Rayonier Timber under a special animal-control permit to track and shoot a bear that had been damaging the company's trees.
"What usually happens is the bear quickly gets tired and climbs up a tree, and the hunter shoots it," said Georg Ziegltrum, supervisor of animal damage-control for the Washington Forest Protection Association, a timber group. "The hunters' bad luck was they encountered a fat 300-pound bear who didn't feel like climbing."
The hunters tracked the bear until about 8 p.m., with Cebe and Johnson following the dogs down logging roads in one truck, and hunter Ken Hester and his partner in another. As dark approached, Cebe set out on foot with his gun over a hill to end the chase.
Johnson stayed not far from the truck near an overgrown logging road, holding a radio but no gun.
Cebe heard rustling and Johnson's screech, but the bear already had attacked before Cebe saw and shot it. By the time Cebe reached his wounded friend, Johnson had radioed Hester for help.
"We had no idea how bad it was," said Hester, who was a quarter-mile away. "We just knew we had to get to him. He just said, 'Get me to the hospital. Get me to the hospital.' "
They helped Johnson walk to the truck and raced down the logging road toward help.
"I was trying to go fast, but I remember he kept saying, 'Don't hit the bumps, don't hit the bumps,' " Cebe said.
The men seemed shaken but not surprised by their ordeal. Johnson was groggy but recovering, they said.
"There was never a lot of fear, just respect," Hester said. "When you're hunting big game, you know there can be danger."