Sorry for my English, I tried my best.

On April 28 we set our feet on the blessed Karelian land, looking forward to a hunt we had been dreaming about. We were greeted, seated into Chinese jeep and taken to a Karelian restaurant for lunch. After lunch we picked up some hunters from N-town, who were hunting in this area for some days, and made for the base. It was a cottage which for some days was turned into a hunters’ shelter. Because of the temperature about + 15 degree its appearance didn’t confuse us. We changed our cloths and took our high seats.
Along the way we saw many bear tracks and our mood was rather positive.
We took our high seats around 6 o’clock. One of them was made on the attic of abandoned house, the other one – on the fir. As bait were slightly smoked fish and meat left-overs.
Just as was told we sat there till 23.30 but didn’t see the animal. The failure in the first day is not the most pleasant thing in the world, but we weren’t confused because there were so many days ahead. The further meeting with hunters from N-town inspired us too – they said that had shot the bear but missed.
I allow myself a little digression about hunters from N-town to make clear the reason why they missed. These guys, armed with rifled barrels from .30-06 Spr to 9,3х74 hunted together with their girlfriends. On the first day of their hunt the rangers had to take down from the seat one couple because they were absolutely drunk. The other “hunter†fell asleep just beside the fire. In the first evening of our hunt four of them decided to took the high seats together until the ranger joined them. To make the happiness completed they only needed the accordion and some good songs. At this they routinely went to ease nature one after another. I think the bear properly appraised their efforts to keep conspiracy and recognizing these “hunters†as harmless tourists calmly came to the bait. The animal was noticed by the hunter with .30-06, and he sent the bullet somewhere in the direction of the bear. On the next day the shooter with his girlfriend were wandering around the forest looking for blood: he could wound the bear. Fortunately, their efforts were in vain. The other day this company saw a bear again but the same “lucky guy†with .30-06 missed one more time. Later they had their luck: they managed to get a pestun (a little bear under 3 years) with skin of wolf size. Tired but satisfied they paid generously and went home. What can I say? If somebody is lucky, it is for a long time.

By six o’clock we were on our high seats again. I was in the house and Oleg was on the tree. We were there till 1 a.m. but the bear didn’t come.
The night was snowy and the land was covered with snow about knee-high. All day long we slept and in the evening without any hope (usually animals are afraid to move once again after unexpected snowfall) took our high seats.
About two hours before midnight I heard slow steps over the snow. Someone was making his way to my high seat from the depths of the forest. My heart was beating awfully. But some time later the sound of the steps faded away. In one hour I heard it again. The situation repeated one more time: someone was coming to the house and then went away. There was no possibility to see who it was, because the only window faced the bait.
In the morning we went to check the tracks. Not far from my high seat (around 200 meters) we found tracks of two bears. The ranger was surprised that I could hear them. There were no tracks around Oleg’s bait.
I decide to take the other high seat, where I could see clearly the bears so carefully staying away from the house. Oleg decided to try his luck at took my place in the attic. Another evening was spent in vain in spite of the wonderful weather (the snow began melting). The situation wasn’t as optimistic as in the first day. We had not so much time left while the inviting company didn’t want to make something effective. After making everything clear they considered it to be wiser to pass us to the other hands. We moved to the hunting area, located northerly from Petrozavodsk, where according to the information were some fresh bears.

And again we took our high seats at 18.00.
Three hours later I heard a sound of approaching motorcycle behind me! The prayers for “Please, do not allow him to notice me†didn’t work. Not only he noticed me but stopped right under the high seat. And not only stopped – about a minute he energetically revved and slipped, then drove right to the bait, looked back at me, set the shotgun and cried at the top of his lungs:
- Waiting for a bear, huh?! No bear around! The bear goes to another high seat.
Without a word I made an expressive gesture which the motorcyclist understood correctly – his next cry will be the last one. He drove away about hundred meters so I couldn’t see him anymore and made a shot. Mentally I scolded him and decided to stay here to the bitter end.
About twenty minutes later I felt a smell of burning. When I turned back I saw… a burning field! This bastard didn’t satisfy with all he had done already and decided to set fire to the dried grass.
I realized that I have nothing to wait anymore because no sensible bear (unless he is earless and snuffless) would come to the bait. About an hour I was completely relaxed until heard… the bears’ steps. He didn’t try to hide or conceal himself (the bears there must be completely crazy), he went down from the hill on my right and made for the bait. Just as always at the sight of a bear I felt this familiar and beloved feeling - adrenalin was rushing through my veins.
The bear moved confidently, but then suddenly stopped, bowed towards the land and began to chew something. I saw him clearly but decided to wait until he would come out of the underwood to the bait. The bear was moving slowly and looked askance towards the fire from time to time. When he was about several meters from the barrel with fish he finally saw the fire, turned round and ran up to the hill. Now was the Krieghoff turn.

I took aim at the bear but saw only a dark spot moving to the underwood – the sunset was shining right into my eyes. I chose the fore part of the body and pressed the trigger – there was no blow-back at all. I even didn’t lose the moving bear. After the second shot the bear seemed to stumble but went on moving. In a moment (I never could do it so fast before) I reloaded the DR and threw away both cases. When I thrust my hand into my pocket there was not a single cartridge! While I was searching all my pockets desperately the bear faded away completely.
When the animal was far away I found the cartridges in one of my numerous pockets and loaded the useless Krieghoff.
I went down and came up to the place of the first shot – nothing. About fifty meters away I found several drops of blood, then more and more – the bear was wounded. I was pretty sure that got him with the last shot and most likely it was in his hindpaw.
With fallen spirits I returned to my high seat, smoked and drank from my flask. Suddenly I heard three muted shots from Oleg’s direction. I called the ranger who was near Oleg and asked him to check it. Some minutes later he gaily said that Oleg got the bear and I told him about my shots. In ten minutes we started to carve a nice fat bear.



How can be expressed my irritation and anger! How angry was I at myself and my stupidity. Because I’m the “experienced bear-hunter†who taught Oleg (it was his first bear hunt): you must shoot whenever you can, never wait for more convenient moment because the bear can run away even because of the bird cry. And knowing all this I sat there and stared at approaching bear that could smell the fire at any moment.
Oleg tried to comfort me as he could. But I knew that I missed my lucky chance.
Meanwhile our cheerful ranger quickly called up some people with dogs from Petrozavodsk. As it turned out there was kind of line of Laika-breeders who wanted to chase the wounded bear. They promised to come in the morning. At that I made a vow: if tomorrow we get this bear I will drink two full barrels of vodka from my DR.
That night we didn’t sleep. Oleg and I were walking along the path, smoking, talking and drinking a little – he with joy and I with grief.
The guys with dogs arrived at dawn and so began the most surrealistic action in my life – bear hunt with dogs. In other words we stood on our numbers, covering the area where had to be the bear, and released the dogs.
We didn’t have to wait long The dogs were working inside of the area and I realized that soon the wounded bear would rushed out to the opening seeing a man with gun on his way. That was the real test of hunting spirit! Honestly, this made my flesh creep.
So, the dogs were working. I started to set myself according to their direction but suddenly they stopped. “They keep him†– was my thought. Then was a shot and everything was finished. You can’t imagine what I felt at that moment. From one side I felt a relief because I didn’t have to try my luck, but from the other side I was upset because of the same reason. I was slightly confused that my wounded bear was taken by some other man. But in the end I was very happy – we got that bear, he didn’t escape!
Some moments later this bunch of emotions came to one thing – simple happiness of a hunter. As it turned out the dogs found the dead bear and one of the dog owners made a shot to strengthen their association – “shot – dead animalâ€.
I drank two barrels of vodka from my Krighoff just as I had promised (to the credit of manufacturer I must say that not a drop fell on the ground).





The bear was 2 meters 8 centimeters long – nice trophy according to the European standards. Of course in the autumn he would be even bigger but his spring fur is something special!



Then was the ordinary routine: photos, carrying-out and cutting. By the way I turned out to shot him twice: with first one I broke his hindpaw (exit in the stomach), the second one broke his stomach (exit in sternum). Vital organs weren’t injured.

Some conclusions:
1. TUG bullet– is not for this hunt. It has no expansion. We had cartridges with this bullet (Oleg - 9,3х62, my - a .375 H&H). Entrance and exit are a little bigger than width of a forefinger. We need a bullet with more expansion to hunt a bear.
2. When you see a bear – shoot and don’t wait for more convenient moment.

Pete, please, resize photos if you can.

Hi
Thanks for the report, very different and interesting.

What do you estimate the weight of these bears?

Are incidents with people like the motorcyclist common? Sounds like a tosser.

Great story.
Congratulation on a good hunt.
Nice bear,
someday I will have one of those

Next time stalk the biker and leave him as bait

Thanks to all!

quote:

Originally posted by Boghossian:
Are incidents with people like the motorcyclist common? Sounds like a tosser.

No. I think that was local redneck, and he wanted to hunt bear by himself (of course illegally).

Bears were about 200-250 kilo.

quote:

Originally posted by dwarf416:
Next time stalk the biker and leave him as bait

That was my first idea.

Fun read. I am curious as to what type of scope Oleg has on his rifle.

Oleg and I used night vision scopes Dedal http://www.nightvision.ru/eng/products/

quote:

I drank two barrels of vodka from my Krighoff just as I had promised (to the credit of manufacturer I must say that not a drop fell on the ground).

My favorite line. Great marketing for K rifles.

..And with cigarette in hand, very impressive. God report and a great story.

Waidmannsheil on the Bears Roman, enjoyed your story, quite interesting.

I also witnessed a barrel of Becherovka drunk from a shotgun, we called it the 'young hunter initiation' -- but you did much better as the poor chap spilled a bit. Although, it was a little later in the evening after a bit of celebrating! Dom.

Thanks!