They worked along until they hit Nasty Creek, and then Jack turned and started tracking down the small stream. McCain thought that was a good sign, as most mortally wounded animals will often head to water, and they will frequently head downhill.
Unfortunately, the bear wasn’t as near to death as McCain had hoped.
Chapter 20
Jack was doing a good job of tracking the bear. McCain had to slow him down more frequently now, which meant they were probably getting closer to the bruin. Finally, the dog followed the tracks right up to a big thicket of wild blackberries. When Jack started growling in a low rumble, McCain called him back to his side. McCain was 99.8% sure the bear was in the bramble, and the last thing he wanted was Jack in there with a wounded and pissed-off bear.
McCain knew that bears would attack if cornered, so he stood at the ready, trying to figure out what to do next. Before he’d devised his plan, he heard a “whoof” sounding like a big dog with a sore throat. McCain raised his rifle just in time to see a big black head emerge from the berry patch with a rumbling black body right behind. Not surprisingly, the bear was headed right at him. McCain heard Jack bark and saw a yellow flash headed at the bear.
Time slowed down for McCain as he calculated in microseconds how fast the bear was running and where he needed to aim to stop the bear in one shot without hitting Jack. Rather than aim, McCain instinctually pointed and pulled the trigger. All the years shooting at jackrabbits with a little .22 caliber rifle when he was a kid culminated in that moment. It was a life or death situation, for Jack, and for him. McCain squeezed the trigger and started calculating where to make the next shot.
Thankfully, he didn’t have to worry about it. The beast was dead before it did a face plant in the grass just three yards in front of him.
McCain looked around for Jack. The dog was just coming into the flank of the bear, barking and dancing like a boxer, in and out, just in case the bruin came back to life.
“We’re good,” McCain said to Jack. “He’s dead.”
Although the bullet hole right between the bruin’s eyes told the whole story, McCain still poked the bear a couple times to make sure he was, in fact, dead. Then he sat down and called Jack over.
“Good boy,” he said to Jack as he rubbed the dog’s sides and scratched his ears. “I couldn’t have done that without you.”
McCain marked the location of the bear on his GPS, and then he and Jack followed the creek down to where it crossed the Forest Service road. They ended up about three-quarters of a mile up the road from where McCain’s truck was parked. They had just hit the road and were headed back to the truck when around the corner came Hargraves in his pickup.
“I heard the shot, and thought I might catch you up this way,” Hargraves said. “So, what happened?”
“You have a good sharp knife?” McCain asked.
Hargraves said he did, in his utility box in his truck. McCain asked him to grab it and then as they hiked back up the creek to the dead bear, he told Hargraves the whole story.
“Do you need some clean shorts?” Hargraves asked. “I think I would.”
Jack knew exactly where they were going and sprinted ahead to the bear.
The two men field dressed the bear, removing the innards and organs from the beast so the meat could cool, and then dragged the carcass down to Hargrave’s truck. They didn’t skin the bear. They would leave that to the butcher, where the bear would be taken for processing. The meat then would be donated to a food bank, or the Mission in Yakima.
As they were dragging the bear, Hargraves said, “It would sure be nice to have one of those game carts.”
McCain laughed.
During a much-needed breather with a bottle of water, the two WDFW officers discussed how they might box Teddy Johnson in when he arrived. They decided Hargraves would wait behind the Tampico store, out of sight of the main road but in a spot where he could watch the North Fork Road. McCain would park about a mile past where he had found LeRoy Junior earlier and would prepare for the arrival of Teddy, once Hargraves radioed that the maroon Dodge Ram was on the way up the road. He would block the road with his truck, and Hargraves would come in from behind, so theoretically, they’d have Johnson trapped.
The sun had gone down behind the hills and light was fading when Teddy Johnson blew by the Tampico store headed to Nasty Creek. Hargraves radioed McCain, told him that Johnson was headed his way, and then pulled out, staying far enough behind that Johnson couldn’t see him.
There was still enough light that Hargraves could see the dust clouds rolling up above the brush and trees as Johnson drove up the dirt road ahead of him, which helped him track the truck as well. Occasionally he would radio McCain and give him an update.
Finally, McCain radioed back and said, “I see the running lights and the dust clouds. He’s getting close. Maybe move up a little closer.”
“10-4,” said Hargraves into the radio and pushed the Ford a bit harder.
As soon as Teddy saw the WDFW pickup in the road ahead of him he slammed on the brakes, threw it into reverse, and backed with amazing speed and control back down the road. He noticed the WDFW pickup coming up fast behind him, so he whipped the Ram into a tiny two-track side road and backed up as fast as the Dodge could go. As it turned out, it was too fast. Teddy missed a slight turn in the road, bounced over a stout rock, and
