With enough noise and grunting to wake a deaf man (which pretty much describes me), two bears came crashing out of the dense Canadian bush on a dead run and stopped suddenly, smack dab in the middle of the clearing my stand overlooked. I had spent the last five hours napping and reading the better portions of a Reader’s Digest magazine, while consuming too much hard candy.

When the evening sun hit the pelt of the red bear it’s color was bedazzling.

One of the animals was black and nearly twice the size of the other. The smaller bear was a cinnamon red, with lush, golden-red hair covering its back. The larger animal unceremoniously took control of the evening’s meal by stuffing its big round head into the barrel. While the black ate, the red bear moved cautiously around the perimeter trying to get close enough to sneak a few morsels to appease its hunger, but obviously had a great deal of respect for the larger bear.

l’ Red circled the barrel while licking his chops and wishing
the bigger bear would leave.

The feeding bear would pull its head out of the trough and noisily growl a warning at the other, reminding it that it was too close to the buffet. But when its head disappeared deep into the barrel to gobble the grain, the smaller animal would sneak in and grab a few more mouthfuls of barley that dribbled from the holes at the bottom of the bin.

Several times, I centered the crosshairs of my scope on the big black, but then would look back at the little red. For a decade, I had been trying to “break the color barrier” by taking a color-phase black bear, but hadn’t had the opportunity to do so. Now I was facing a tough dilemma. Take the bigger bear, which was an obvious trophy or fulfill my quest for a color-phase, although it was about half the size of the black.

Unsure of what to do, I hung up my crossbow and slowly raised my camera to take some still shots of the drama that was unfolding below me, a mere forty-five feet away. When the first shot went off, the whirring noise of the automatic film advance and the bright burst of the flash had no effect on either animal. Relieved that I would not spook the bears with my 35mm, I proceeded to finish off the film it contained.
When the roll was finished, I waited until the big black moved away from the barrel with a full belly. This gave the red, which had been lying behind the bin, the opportunity to move into the feeding position.

It was the first day of my annual trek to Saskatchewan to hunt spring bears with Timberline Outfitters. It had been nine years since my first adventure with the Nokinsky’s. For nearly a decade, the great bear hunting, scrumptious food, homey accommodations and family-like relationship with my hosts has kept me coming back for more each year.

This year, I was hunting with Excalibur’s Exocet and was anxious to see how the crossbow would do on the final exam of the field test, which I had been conducting for the past month. I already knew that it’s dynamite on the target range, but now I had an opportunity to use it in the deep Canadian bush on a live target and I was excited at the prospect.

I was sharing the Timberline campfire with friends, Patrick McGinley from New York State, Jimmy Johnson from Ohio and Ed Hamblin of Washington State. All the men were repeat customers of Timberline Outfitters and each of them had a pile of adventures they could relate about the great hunting that surrounded the Nokinsky’s remote, wilderness farm.

When the handsome, red bear plopped its butt down on the ground to begin to eat, it glanced around the clearing before sticking its head into the barrel for its first mouthful. It was at that moment I noticed how wide its head really was. Up to that point, I had speculated that it was a small female with a boar, since the mating season was near at hand. Now I was not convinced.

I knew one thing for sure - it was one of the most beautiful bears I’d ever laid my eyes on. After final consideration, I decided to break the color barrier. The red bear was sitting in a quartering-away position, with its head in the barrel.
I stared down at the perfect argument for bear baiting. It places the animal close and at a proper angle for a clean, ethical shot. This in turn allows the hunter enough time to make an effective and humane kill shot.

I centered the crosshairs of my scope on the dark red rib cage of the bruin, aiming for where I thought the heart would be beating. I quietly flipped the safety to fire, took a deep breath, exhaled, took another deep breath and then let out half. I slowly squeezed the trigger and was gently surprised when the bow fired, launching the shaft at the unsuspecting bear.

The author poses proudly with the first
color phase bear of his hunting career.

The broadhead sliced through bone and flesh as it passed completely through the surprised animal. It’s head jerked out of the grain bin and it spun around, dashing into the thick undercover, passing beneath my stand.

I watched it go as far as I could before it was swallowed up by the jungle of heavy brush and jack pines. The quiet evening filled with the crashing and breaking of brush as the bear bulled its way through the thick of it on its death run. Within seconds, all that remained were the deafening sounds of silence.

There was no death moan, but I was unconcerned. I replayed the shot, hit and retreat of the bear in my mind and knew that it was down. So sure was I, that after a five-minute pause to still my racing pulse, I climbed out of the tree, recocked my bow, loaded another arrow and began tracking the animal.

The blood trail only confirmed what I already knew; it was a good hit. Forty yards from the bait, I spied the bear lying where it had fallen, looking as if it were in a deep, peaceful sleep. When I slowly approached the downed animal, I was extremely pleased by what I saw. Not only was the bear’s lush, red pelt knockout gorgeous, the animal was much larger than I had originally thought.

The common plight of most bear hunters is to shoot an animal and make claims about how large it is. Upon recovery, they discover that the bear is much smaller than they had thought and that their sense of judgement is sorely lacking. I guessed that it was smaller, but was remarkably pleased by what I found.

I had grabbed a towrope from my backpack before I began to track and now placed it around the bear’s neck. I struggled to get the heavy animal through the thick brush, over the deadfalls and into the clearing. In spite of my huffing and puffing, it was turning into a grand evening.

When Jimmy appeared on the ATV, we took some photos and then loaded the bear atop the four-wheeler for the four-mile trek back to the truck. It was a very satisfying ride for me as my back rested comfortably against the very first color phase bear of my hunting career. I had finally broken the color barrier!

Patrick McGinley scored on an exceptional black bear
with his Excalibur crossbow.

The week was not over, however. One of the truly great things about Timberline Outfitters is that they have many stands and many big bears to hunt. The next day I broke out my Canon XL1 and headed back into the bush to film more bears.

Once again, good luck smiled down on the hunter as I filmed Patrick taking a very large black bear. The following day I sat another stand and filmed two medium-sized bears and another monster black as well as burning several rolls of 35mm film.
On Thursday, the weather turned cold and rainy, so Patrick and our guide, Paul Wiegleb from the state of Maine, headed for town to deliver our bear hides to the taxidermist.

On Friday morning, we were greeted by three inches of newly fallen snow. So we whiled away the hours packing our gear, taking more photos, enjoying Jeanette Nokinsky’s delicious cuisine and visiting with one another over hot coffee and apple pie.

Our bear hunting guide, Paul Wiegleb, is a
retired boat captain form to coast of Maine.

Saturday morning I arose at 5:00 a.m. and quietly headed for my truck so as not to disturb the sleeping household. I had packed the vehicle the night before, so was quickly on the road to begin the thirteen-hour trek back home.

As I traveled through the beautiful, sparsely populated Saskatchewan farmland, I gave a little prayer of thanks for finding Timberline Outfitters. Over the past nine seasons, the Nokinsky’s, some of the nicest folks in my life, have become my Canadian family. Their warm, country hospitality is surpassed only by their outstanding bear hunting and the lore they possess about the Canadian bush and the animals it holds.

A warm and heartfelt thanks goes out to the entire Nokinsky family; our guide, Paul Wiegleb; and hunters, Patrick McGinley, Jimmy Johnson and Ed Hamblin. 

The bears of Saskatchewan are really cool and quite well read too.

Written By Daniel James Hendricks-

Daniel James Hendricks is 60 years old and has been hunting small game since the age of six when he took his first gray squirrel with a Red Ryder B-B gun. He has been hunting big game, including whitetails, black bear, caribou, antelope, mule deer, turkeys, wild hogs and a wide assortment of exotic species since 1952. He picked up a recurve bow in 1973 and moved to a compound in 1987. He began hunting with the crossbow in Ohio during the 1994 whitetail season.