The Giant Bear Appears in the Frontier
–Beginning of January 1915–
The days shorten when the sun pierces through the mountains of the north country. In Rokusensawa, out in the hinterlands of Sankebetsu, sleet started to fall at the beginning of November. The first signs of dawn brought with them an unusual sound in the chill night air.
The horse whinnied just long enough for Ikeda Tomikura to wonder, “Was that the wind?” Then there came the sound of a fierce kick.
The horse grew restless. Animals’ senses are sharp: it appeared there was a bear about. It must have come for the corn hanging from the roof of the house.
The harm to the corn was slight. However, when Tomikura saw the bear’s tracks, sunk deep into the slushy ground, he gasped despite himself. They were bigger than any tracks he had ever seen before.
Until the beginning of the Taishō Era, in 1912, bears were an everyday occurrence. However, they mostly restricted themselves to the forests on the outskirts of the frontier. So Ikeda, though startled, did not pay the incident much heed. Then, on a predawn morning twenty days later, his horse started again. Though he hurried outside, the bear was gone, having done nothing more than knock down some of the hanging corn. That his horse had escaped death twice was a small mercy.
But as might be expected, the simple-minded Ikeda felt that the bear’s appearance was an omen and he grew steadily more uneasy. “Who knows how often it’s come here? It’s happened once, could happen again.”
So some days later, Ikeda asked two matagi hunters, Kanako Tomikura from the frontier and Tani Kihachi from Sankebetsu, to join him in a stakeout and ambush the bear. The matagi traditionally hunt bears, boiling or making stews out of the meat. Matagi hunting parties would stalk bears for extended periods, waiting for the right time to strike. In short, a matagi was just the man for the job.
By eight in the evening it was already pitch black. Then, there came strange sounds from the eaves of the Ikeda house. Ikeda looked up to see a giant beast rearing up. It looked as though it was trying to get its paws on the corn. The veteran matagi hunter, Tani, shot a look to the less experienced Kanako which said, “Don’t shoot it yet!” But the eager Kanako was unable to restrain himself and fired.
The ear-piercing retort of the gun thundered through the mountains.
But though the bear was only a few meters away, the bullet flew off into the darkness. Tani reacted quickly and promptly let loose two shots. The bear recoiled backwards into the forest and vanished.
Spatters of blood tailed behind the bear’s tracks. The hunters’ spirits were invigorated, despite their failure. But to pursue the beast in such darkness was hopeless. Ikeda agreed to meet the two hunters in the morning.