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The Infamous Black Bird Southern Oregon History, Revised


The Life and Death and Afterlife of Reelfoot

The Reelfoot of the Siskiyou Mountains, that is--called "Club Foot" south of the California border. There were many other Reelfoots and Clubfoots; one Reelfoot inhabited the Napa County area and was killed in 1898. Charles M. Russell wrote a story about yet another Reelfoot, setting the tale in Montana in the 1870s.
   
Also see John B. Griffin's tales and the Bear Stories page.


Reelfoot, 1890s
The Siskiyou Reelfoot, 1890s.


    The Jacksonville News says that a huge grizzly, whose track measures eleven inches in length and ten in width, has been destroying fat hogs in the suburbs of Ashland of late. A powerful trap has been set for him.
"State Items," Albany Register, November 13, 1869, page 2


"Old Reelfoot" Evaded Guns and Traps for Many Years
    The story of "Old Reelfoot," for which Mount Grizzly was named [Grizzly Peak was not named for Reelfoot. It was named for the bear that tried to eat Henry Chapman--on Grizzly Peak.] has been gathered by Vernon Hopkins, prominent valley sportsman, rancher and trapper, who obtained the authentic story from members of pioneer families who knew of the famous outlaw grizzly.
    Hopkins, a member of an old pioneer family, is interested in gathering historical facts and pictures of the valley. His grandfather, Geo. H. Bailey, is mentioned as one of the hunters in the following story. The pictures and information are published through the courtesy of George F. Wright, nephew of William A. Wright and Robert and Fred Bean of Phoenix, sons of Purl Bean. Mrs. Mildred Ager of Memory Lane Studio assisted in compiling the facts into the following story. Other pictures of "Old Reelfoot" may be seen in the windows of Memory Lane Studio.
    Back in the 1860s, grizzly bears were quite numerous in Southern Oregon and Northern California. As most of these were only average grizzlies, little attention was paid to those killed.
    Around 1869 an enormous grizzly made his appearance on this range in both Klamath and Jackson counties, his favorite haunts being the wild canyon region of the Siskiyou Mountains in the neighborhood of Pilot Rock, and thence eastward [sic] to Mt. Pitt. There he started his notorious career of killing cattle, and except for his huge tracks there was no way of distinguishing his killings from those of other grizzlies. He was of gigantic proportions, even more prodigious in strength and ferocity than the grizzlies usually found roaming the mountains, the difference shown in his finer hair. This race of mightier grizzlies were well known in California in the days of the earlier settlers, and they were greatly feared, but there are only a few of the monsters left, and these inhabit regions seldom or never penetrated by man.
    His peculiar track was caused by the loss of three of the claws of his left forefoot, which he had torn off in a huge trap set by Bruce Grieve of Fall Creek, a well-known stockman and noted bear hunter. The loss of these claws caused the left foot to turn outward at the heel as he walked, and hence the name "Old Reelfoot," or "Clubfoot."
    The less crafty grizzlies disappeared rapidly from this range, but Reelfoot had become a terror to the stockmen of the country. He was well known by his tracks and by the way he killed and afterwards treated his victims. Hundreds of cattle were killed by him in the mountains, and his tremendous strength enabled him to kill a full-grown steer with as much ease as an ordinary bear would kill a calf.
    It was known that he would rush upon a steer, usually from a point of vantage on an elevation above his victim, bearing him to the ground with his immense weight and strength, would close his powerful jaws over the animal's back, just behind the shoulders, and crush the bones of the shoulder and back just as a terrier would kill a rat. Many were the cows and steers that were found killed this way, and about the carcass would be found the telltale tracks of Old Reelfoot.
    He continued his raids on the herds, while eluding the most carefully made trap sets and skilled hunters. Most bears after killing an animal will eat of the carcass until it is about all consumed, but this cunning fellow, apparently knowing the danger to himself from the rifles of hunters would hardly ever return to a carcass after leaving it, and seldom ate more than one meal from a beef that he killed. By keeping well concealed in the daytime and traveling at a rate almost impossible for man or horse to keep up with in the mountains, the bear had baffled the efforts of the best hunters in Oregon and Northern California to kill or trap him. He was seldom, if ever, seen by the hunters, but his unmistakable tracks were often found, and his trail could be followed by the dead cattle left in his path.
    Among those having the larger herds and suffering the heavier losses were Major Barron of Ashland and Dave Horn of Hornbrook. These stockmen, along with others, finally combined and offered a reward of $2700 for his scalp. This stimulated the hunters of this region to extraordinary efforts, and many a hard day's tramp and lonely night's watch resulted only in confirming the hunters in the belief that Reelfoot could not be caught.
    William A. Wright tried repeatedly to trap him, but always failed. Then he tried the plan of setting a loaded gun to kill him. The intelligence and cunning of the bear was soon evident. Mr. Wright at one time arranged a loaded gun in such a way that he thought it impossible for the bear to get at the bait without standing where he would receive the charge of the gun, and his astonishment was great when he found that the bear had studied out the combination for himself, and had taken the bait without being hurt by the discharge of the gun.
    He approached the gun from the lower side of the tree, where Mr. Wright thought he could not get, and then rising upon his hind feet and placing one paw against the tree for support, he had reached around with the other paw and taken the bait. The gun went off all right, but the bear was safe, for he was on the side of the tree next to the butt of the gun. The record of the whole proceedings was left in the soft ground about the tree (for it was muddy at the time), and in the mud [the] imprint of the bear's actions were shown almost as certainly as if he had been seen touching off the gun. Again and again Mr. Wright tried every plan known to hunters to effect his capture, but always failed, and for a time gave up trying to kill him.
    Hunting parties of five or more together hunted for him again and again, but all to no avail. His tracks were seen and he was known to be in the vicinity, but he kept out of sight and far in advance of the hunters. Among others who had tried repeatedly to hunt down the bear were George Crook, George H. Bailey, Henry Moore, W. H. and Joe Shepherd, William Hollingsworth and Thomas Wright.
    On April 10, 1890, William A. Wright and Purl Bean, the latter a boy of 17, started out to try once more to capture Reelfoot. After a long and weary tramp over the rough country southeast of Pilot Rock in northern Siskiyou Country, they came upon Reelfoot's tracks. After many hours of careful tracking, they sighted the great bear on the far side of a deep canyon as he raised from his bed made from a flattened woodrat nest.
    Two shots rang out, followed by the deafening roar of the enraged grizzly as he charged the hunters. The men bravely stood their ground, firing shot after shot into the charging bear. In spite of the great work done by the hounds, the giant bear was within 40 feet of the hunters when he sank to the ground. The deep canyons echoed with the blood-curdling wails--such as only a dying bear can make. Then all was still.
    Thus ended the memorable career of Southern Oregon's great grizzly "Reelfoot."
    Reelfoot weighed 1892 pounds--a weight reached by very few bears in history. Other dimensions were: length from nose to tail, 7 feet; height 3 feet 4½ inches; width across hips: 2 feet, 4 inches; hind foot, 16 inches in length; length of claws, 4¾ inches, and head from nose to top 18 inches.
Ashland Tidings, February 16, 1948, page 2


Wright & Bear 1890
Copied and Written by George Wright 1952 [apparently from a much earlier manuscript]

    The following print sketch of the career of "Old Reelfoot" is a plain, unvarnished statement of the facts of interest concerning his years of depredation upon the livestock in the mountains of Southern Oregon, the many unsuccessful attempts to capture him, his death at last by the rifles of those who now have the fur on exhibition, and a description of the size, endurance, characteristics and habits of the great animal.
    "Reelfoot" has been known as a denizen of the mountainous region of Jackson and Klamath counties, in Oregon, for more than twenty-odd years, his favorite haunts being in the wild canyon region of the Siskiyou Mountains in the neighborhood of Pilot Rock, and thence eastward to Mt. Pitt. He is of gigantic proportions and even more prodigious in strength and ferocity than the grizzlies now roaming the mountains, the difference showing in the finer hair of "Old Reelfoot." This race of mightier grizzlies was well known in California in days of earlier settlement, and they were greatly feared, but there are now only a few of the monsters left, and these inhabit regions seldom or never penetrated by man.
    As remarked, "Reelfoot" had been a terror to the stockmen of the country for years. He was well known by his tracks, and [was] like "Jack the Ripper" by the way he killed and afterwards treated his victims. Hundreds of cattle have been killed by him in the mountains, and his prodigious strength enabled him to kill a full-grown steer with as much ease as an ordinary bear would kill a calf. It was known that he would rush upon a steer, usually from a point of vantage on an elevation above the fated bovine, and bearing him to the ground with his immense weight and strength would close his powerful jaws over the animal's back, just behind the shoulders, and crush the bones of the shoulder and back, just as a terrier would kill a rat. Many are the cows and steers that have been found killed in this way, and about the carcass would be found the telltale tracks of "Old Reelfoot."
    "Reelfoot" possessed a remarkable cunning in eluding the many hunters who pursued him, and in avoiding the dangers of the many traps that were set for him. Most bears, after killing an animal, will eat of the carcass until it is about all consumed, but this cunning fellow, apparently knowing the danger to himself from the rifles of hunters who would watch near an animal that he had killed to get a shot at him, would hardly ever return to a carcass after leaving it, and seldom ate more than one meal from a beef that he had killed. It took a cow or a steer for every meal that he made on fresh beef. By keeping well concealed in the daytime and traveling at a rate almost impossible for man or horse to keep up with in the mountains, the bear for many years past had baffled the efforts of the best hunters in Oregon and California to kill or trap him. He was seldom, if ever, seen by the hunters, but his unmistakable tracks were often found, and his trail could be followed often by the dead cattle left in his path. The stockmen of the country, after many losses, finally combined and offered a reward for his scalp. This stimulated the hunters of this region to an extraordinary effort, and many a hard day's tramp and lonely night's watch resulted only in confirming the hunters in the belief that "Reelfoot" could not be caught.
    William A. Wright tried repeatedly to trap him, but always failed. Then he tried the plan of setting a loaded gun to kill him. The intelligence and cunning of the bear may be imagined from the following. Mr. Wright at one time arranged a loaded gun in such a way that he thought it impossible for the bear to get at the bait without standing where he would receive the contents of the gun, and his astonishment was great when he found that the bear had studied out the combination for himself, and had taken the bait without being hurt by the discharge of the gun. He approached the gun from the lower side of the tree, where Mr. Wright thought he could not get, and then rising upon his hind feet and placing one paw against the tree for support, he had reached around with the other paw and taken the bait. The gun went off all right, but the bear was safe, for he was on the side of the tree next to the butt of the gun. The record of the whole proceeding was left in the soft ground about the tree (for it was muddy at the time), and in the muddy imprint the bear's actions were known almost as certainly as if he had been seen touching off the gun. Again and again Mr. Wright tried every plan known to hunters to effect his capture, but always failed, and for a time gave up trying to kill him.
    Later, Bruce Grieve tried his hand at trapping him, and after repeated efforts finally succeeded in catching him by the toenails of the left front paw, three of which were left in the trap as stated above. At one time George Cook had the good fortune to get a shot at the noted bear, and lodged a rifle ball in his shoulder, where it was found when the bear was killed. Hunting parties of five or more together hunted for him again and again, but all to no purpose. His tracks were seen and he was known to be in the vicinity, but he kept out of sight and far in advance of the hunters. A party of good hunters started out in pursuit of him at one time and succeeded in finding the tracks and following them for several days, but failed to get a sight of the bear and finally became discouraged and disheartened and returned to their homes.
    Many good hunters have hunted this bear for days in succession without once seeing him and would finally give it up, to again and again try it without success.
    Among others who have tried repeatedly to hunt down this bear the writer knows of the following, all of whom are good hunters and experienced mountaineers and thoroughly familiar with the region in which "Reelfoot" made his haunts, namely: Messrs. Wm. A. Wright, Bruce Grieve, George Cook, George H. Bailey, Henry Moore, W. H. and Joe Shepherd, William Hollingsworth, Thomas J. Wright and others whose names I do not recall.
    On the 5th of April, 1890, five good hunters started out for a hunt for this famous bear. Soon after starting they concluded to separate, three going in a northerly direction and the other two going in a westerly direction. The country most frequented by the bear is one of exceeding grandeur, with its high peaks and deep, rocky canyons mostly covered by thick brush, and consequently one that was very difficult for man or beast to travel over. These men were fully determined to capture the bear if possible. Let me assure the reader that it was no boy's play to hunt over these mountains in snow from three to four feet in depth, as it was at that time. They went up steep mountainsides and down into deep canyons whose sides were covered with thick brush. The two men who were together at last found the tracks of the bear and thought it best to let the rest of the company know of the finding of the trail. They at once started in search of the remainder of the party, and after tramping up hill and down for three miles they found them and reported. After a short rest they all started for the trail, and after reading it they then commenced a weary tramp of many miles. At last they sighted the bear, far in advance. One of the party, being the owner of some dogs brought along for the purpose, very soon turned the canines loose upon the bear's trail against the expressed wishes of the rest of the company, and in consequence both bear and dogs kept out of the way of the hunters in pursuit, and the chase ended unsuccessfully again. Weary and disheartened, the men were forced to return to [their] homes and leave the bear, much to their regret. Owing to the result of this hunt, two of the number then and there made up their minds to try it again and by themselves, which they accordingly did, and it resulted in the final capture of "Old Reelfoot"--a matter of vital importance to all stockmen of the country over which he roamed.
    On the 10th of April, 1890, these two, Wm. A. Wright and Purl Bean, the latter a mere boy in years but of undoubted courage and hardihood for one of his age, started out to try once more to capture the bear. After a long and weary tramp over a very rough country they came suddenly upon the object of their hunt, high in the Siskiyous, not far from Pilot Rock. They both at once fired upon him, and both balls took effect. As soon as shot, "Reelfoot" showed fight and made for the hunters with great fury, tearing up with his teeth large grubs and brush in his anger as he went. The men bravely stood their ground and kept firing at him as fast as possible and with good effect. Two of the shots struck him in the head, and in consequence he began to show signs of weakening but still continued to try to get at his assailants. The men stood bravely up to their task, firing as fast as they could and notwithstanding the great work being done by dogs the hunters had loosed against the bear at the first shots. The brute was within forty feet of the men when he unexpectedly toppled over, and the scourge of the stockmen was at an end, for "Reelfoot" was dead.
    Thus ended the career of this much-feared and noted bear. Herewith appended are the dimensions of the bear:
Length, 7 feet from end of nose to tail.
Height, 3 feet 4½ inches.
Width across hips, 2 feet 4½ inches.
Length of claws, 4½ inches.
Length of head, 18 inches.
Width between ears, 10½ inches.
Measurement of head around the jaws and front of ears, 42½ inches.
Weight eighteen hundred pounds (1,800 pounds).
From a manuscript in the possession of Jody Brockhausen, great-great-granddaughter of William Alfred White.  Some of the text is repeated from the 1948 Ashland Tidings article, above.


Death of Siskiyou's Old Reelfoot Recalled
Grizzly Among Worst Stock-Killing Bears in Southern Oregon

By DALE VINCENT

    Just to mention the name of "Old Reelfoot," the grizzly, back in the '70s and '80s, was enough to raise the hair on a brave man's neck--and to make the frontier women call their kids inside their log cabins and drop the bar across the door.
    "Old Reelfoot" was one of the worst stock-killing grizzlies the West has ever known--crafty, and with immense strength, he would fell a beef critter with one blow, crush its spine with his powerful jaws, and eat his fill. For 20 years, from 1870 to 1890, Old Reelfoot killed literally hundreds of cattle.
Bear's Home Range
    His home range was along the Oregon-California border, between Klamath River on the east and Pilot Rock on the west--a wild, rough piece of mountain country. Here on Camp Creek Bill Wright had a small, one-man cow outfit, a log cabin that sat on a bench overlooking his corrals and a hay meadow.
    On a spring day in 1890, old Bill saw a large, brown grizzly bear rush from the edge of the timber straight across his meadow toward one of his bulls. The bull raised his head and snorted, but too late. The huge grizzly had felled him with one blow, and his powerful jaws crunched through his backbone. The bull sank to the ground.
    Bill hurriedly took down his rifle from the buckhorn rack on the wall. Levering open the loading gate, he slipped home a cartridge. A few more he put into his pocket, and without a backward glance moved silently out of the cabin.
Good Hunter
    Bill was a good hunter. He had been raised in this wild frontier country, and he knew that a grizzly was "bad medicine." He swung in a wide circle until within 100 yards of the dead bull, then he stopped to listen. Everywhere was silence. He moved on to within 25 yards, but could see no bear. He stood, watching and listening, until finally a sense of being alone settled quietly over him. Then methodically he cut for tracks, and in the soil Bill found the huge print of a left front paw. Three toes were missing, unmistakably the brand of Old Reelfoot.
    Bill Wright remembered when Bruce Grieve had tried to trap this great silver-tip, and after a number of failures had finally succeeded in catching him by the toes of the left front paw. Three of these toes were left in the trap, the toenails measuring 4½ inches long. From then on the grizzly was known as Reelfoot.
    Bill also remembered that Major Barron, a cattleman of the Pilot Rock country, had tacked a notice on a pine tree which read: "A reward of $500 will be paid by me to the man who can prove he killed Old Reelfoot--Major Barron, Ashland, Ore."
Personal Pledges
    Soon other stockmen joined the major in tacking their own personal pledges on the tree. Smaller ranchers offered $25, others $50. A few went to $100, and in the year 1889 the tree trunk was plastered with pledges that, when totaled, came to the prodigious sum of $1,700. In those days, truly a reward worth going after.
    Many mountaineers had taken up the trail. Each had sworn he would nail the big bear's hide to his cabin wall, but each had failed. Old Reelfoot was a ghost that vanished so rapidly not even a man on horseback had ever caught up with him.
    In every case, Old Reelfoot had won out over the best hunters in the Siskiyous. The far-flung trail of mutilated beef carcasses had continued. Invariably each beef would have its backbone crushed, and around the kill would be found the telltale track of Old Reelfoot. But the big grizzly knew the ways of man--knew that distance meant safety--and he rapidly put much of it behind him.
Slow Anger Starts
    Now, right in his own pasture, the infamous old grizzly had killed Bill Wright's best bull. A slow anger started to burn in the old man's chest--an anger that grew until he could think of nothing else--and as Bill Wright walked back to his cabin, he knew that either he or Old Reelfoot was going to die.
    Carefully, Bill laid his plans. He rode down [the] creek and asked Purl Bean to go on the hunt with him. Purl was only 17 years old then, but already a good mountaineer, a crack shot, and an exceptional tracker.
    Purl brought along his 44-40 Winchester, and a wicked-looking homemade hunting knife. Bill Wright took his 56-52 rimfire Spencer. They both carried light packs, extra ammunition, and jerked venison.
    They took off on the cooling tracks of the big grizzly that led up Camp Creek into the wild Siskiyou Mountains. At dusk the men camped on Soda Mountain, built a small fire and ate some of the jerky. Then, lying close to the coals, they slept soundly.
Rough Country
    They felt the old grizzly was traveling while they slept, so at the first cold light of dawn they were on the trail--gnawing jerky as they fought their way around the mountainside. The tracks led over the roughest kind of country, and frequently they lost valuable time in searching for "signs." At other times the trail was clear, often marked by torn-up rotted logs where the bear had searched for grubs.
    Reelfoot's trail soon gave evidence that he knew he was being followed. He took off straight west over the roughest country the Siskiyous could offer--through tangled masses of brush, across steep canyons--and then at last he doubled back toward the head of Camp Creek.
    They caught sight of him once as he moved uphill and into the snow, almost to the crest of the Siskiyous. It was more difficult for Reelfoot to break trail through the crusted snow, and easier for them to follow.
Frosty Morning
    It was on the cold frosty morning of April 10, 1890, in a brushy, snow-choked draw off the head of Camp Creek, just three miles east [George Wright says three miles south] of Pilot Rock, that the two mountaineers came into an opening in the trees and there--less than 80 yards away--stood Reelfoot.
    Bill Wright and Purl Bean pulled up short. Men and bear stood facing each other. Standing on his hind feet the big grizzly spread his huge arms wide and charged straight for them.
    The bear came forward with a rocking motion. Hate glared from the fierce black eyes, and breath came from his nostrils like smoke in the frosty air.
    Bill snugged a leathery cheek to the stock of his rimfire Spencer, and putting the front bead on the bear's throat he turned loose the first shot. Deliberately, he levered out the empty shell and placed a new cartridge in the chamber.
Drops to Knee
    Purl Bean had dropped to one knee, and the boy's repeating Winchester was sending one 44 slug after the other into the old bear's chest.
    But a grizzly is hard to kill--and the leaden slugs seemed only to madden him. Thoroughly enraged, the grizzly came toward them--tearing up brush with his teeth and sending snow and sticks flying with his mighty paws.
    At 30 yards Old Reelfoot stumbled and went down, fighting the reddening snow. The men stopped firing and stood watching. For a moment the bear lay quiet, then as the black-powder smoke drifted away, Old Reelfoot slowly got to his feet. He stood, dazed and blinded, sniffing the air. Then the big bear's nostrils got the scent and he came toward the men. There was still crushing strength in those powerful arms.
    Bill and the boy fired point black at the head and throat--still it seemed as if nothing would stop that last rush. With terrifying speed the distance between men and beast was being used up.
Bear Drops
    Then, suddenly, as if hit in the head with a poleaxe, the bear dropped--stone dead--20 feet from where they stood.
    Purl Bean's hunting knife was nine inches long, and with this as a "ruler" they computed the following measurements: length, 8 feet; width of chest, 40 inches; length of claws, 4½ inches; width between the ears 10½ inches; around head in front of ears, 42 inches. Bill Wright at the time estimated the bear's weight to be 1,800 pounds.
    Horses were brought in, and the hide was packed out. The bear had been hit 10 times in many different places.
    Old Reelfoot was mounted and placed on a wagon, drawn by mules. This wagon exhibit was shown many places throughout the West, and finally disappeared.
Contacts Museums
    Gordon Jacobs, Hornbrook, Calif., was there in 1890 when the bear was killed, and has spent a number of years and quite a sum of money trying to locate the mounted Reelfoot. He cabled the London museum and also the museum in Paris, because one of the soldiers who returned from World War I reported that he saw the stuffed bear in Europe. The museums were very cooperative. They put in months of research, looked over many museums in Europe, and in the United States. They bent over backward in trying to help. But to this day, Jacobs has never found one lead as to where the old bear disappeared.
    The only things remaining are some photos and one claw which is on exhibit in the museum at Yreka--one of the claws that was left in Bruce Grieve's trap.
Furnished Information
    Norman Campbell, gunsmith, who lives in Gold Hill, lived on Camp Creek at the time the bear was killed and furnished information about the guns and ammunition used by Wright and Bean.
    Bill Wright's nephew, George Wright, now lives a few miles out of Hornbrook, Calif. and still has his uncle's old 56-52 Spencer.
    Fred Bean, Purl Bean's son, now lives in Phoenix, Ore. and provided the pictures and much of the data contained in this account.
Medford Mail Tribune, March 17, 1957, page 12  There are significant differences between Vincent's account, above, and George Wright's, below.


The Truth About "Reelfoot"
By Geo. F. Wright
April 10, 1958
    In the past few years I have been urged by many people to write the facts concerning the noted grizzly bear, "Reelfoot," and after much thought and consideration I have decided it would be proper and fitting to do so, for I have spent sixty-two years in the Siskiyou Mountains where "Reelfoot" once roamed. In earlier years the story was told to me many times by one of the bear's slayers, my uncle, Wm. A. Wright, also by my father, Thos. J. Wright, who hunted unsuccessfully for the bear, as did other early settlers.

George Wright with the Spencer 56-46 and the No. 6 Newhouse
that claimed Reelfoot's toenails.
    Although my experience as a writer is little, and my school days were few, I will try to give to my readers this print sketch of the plain, unpolished statement of facts concerning this grizzly monarch, and the events relative to his career of violence among the herds of cattle in the Siskiyou Mountains and vicinity for more than twenty years, the many unsuccessful attempts to capture him, and his death at last by the rifles of Wm. A. Wright and Purl R. Bean. As there has been so much told and printed about this bear, which in most cases is incomplete, or of dubious validity, many stories of speculation, misstatement and wild guesses [are] told and printed about this cattle-killing grizzly.
    "Reelfoot" was tough and he lived to be old, his teeth were short and worn from many years of hard usage, and he was one of the largest grizzlies killed anywhere. Many incidents were related of the wanton killing of cattle in the vicinity of Pilot Rock and Jenny Creek; cattle men were awed by the giant size and his cunningness. The stories and killings of other grizzlies have about all been forgotten, but the tale of "Reelfoot" is still told.
    The end of "Reelfoot" was a dawn of a new era for the cattle men, an era free from the torment of cattle losses. He was hated, feared and hunted, but always respected; after sixty-nine years his stuffed hide is still hunted.
    I have often heard said that all things must someday come to an end. How true this was of the grizzly race after the coming of the white man, with his onslaught of expanding progress for fortune and fame; his onward push of the cattle industry into the remote areas spelled the end of at least one of the last remaining grizzlies.
    Many years have passed since grizzly bears roamed the forest of southern Oregon and northern California, particularly in the Siskiyou Mountains, but the memory of "Reelfoot" still lingers. Tales of his great size, immense strength, his ability to outwit the human schemes to kill him, coupled with his uncanny instincts, are told wherever oldtimers meet.
    During the late 1880s it was believed that "Reelfoot" was the last remaining grizzly in an [area] around the Siskiyou Mountains; however, in the spring of 1890, a large grizzly was killed in the vicinity of Secret Mountain by Rod. M. Frain, W. L. Frain and Frank Ream. This bear had killed a number of cattle in the mountains surrounding Butte Valley; a $500.00 reward was offered for his scalp. To my knowledge, the last known grizzly to roam the Siskiyou Mountains was killed in 1902 by Gordon Jacobs of Hornbrook, California, along the California-Oregon border west of Hilt. However, grizzly tracks were reported later.
    When the rich and fertile lands of Siskiyou and Jackson counties were first settled and herds of cattle began to graze the surrounding hillsides, grizzly bears were quite numerous. As most of these were only average grizzlies, little attention was paid to those killed. Cattle men were expanding their land and increasing their herds; grizzlies were also increasing their forays. Cattle men hunted and killed, poisoned and trapped bears, while hunters and trappers killed them for food, until the grizzly bear population was reduced considerably. But still the number of cattle killed was at an alarming figure, and it became evident as time went on that two large grizzlies were doing most of the killing.
    At that time the Grieve brothers were in the cattle business along Jenny Creek, and they also lost cattle. One of the brothers, Robert Bruce Grieve, an experienced hunter and trapper, set a trap in the vicinity of Skookum Gulch, and in time caught a huge female grizzly, said to be the largest yet killed in the Siskiyou Mountains. But still the cattle losses went on, and it was evident that one overgrown bear was doing the killing. For some time the cattle men tried to trap and poison him, and many hunted for him. Except for the huge tracks there was no way to distinguish his killings from other grizzlies'; he was of gigantic size, and the way he killed full-grown cattle was beyond the imagination of men.
    Robert Bruce Grieve tried his luck at setting a trap for the bear in the Skookum Gulch area, and after repeated efforts succeeded in getting him in a trap, but he escaped, leaving three of his toenails in the trap. This made his left front footprint appear like it was turned in a little, hence the name "Reelfoot."
    It was found that he roamed a great expanse of territory, his reelfoot tracks telling of his visits in many places. He would disappear from the Pilot Rock and Jenny Creek area for as long as six months at a time. Oldtimers claimed that he went as far as Silver Lake, Oregon. He seemed to kill, eat and move on, although his main travels were along the California-Oregon border between the Klamath River on the east and Pilot Rock on the west. His enormous strength and weight enabled him to kill a full-grown beef with as little effort as an ordinary bear would kill a calf. He would rush upon a beef, usually from a point of vantage on an elevation above his prey, and bear it to the ground, would close his powerful jaws over the animal's back just behind the shoulders, and crush the bones of the shoulder and back. Cows and steers killed in this manner had about the carcasses tracks of "Reelfoot."
    In the spring of 1882, J. D. Williams, of Ashland, Oregon, was herding his flock of sheep in the vicinity of Bald Mountain. He witnessed one of "Reelfoot's" battles. His sheep were grazing on a hillside; below him in a glade a bunch of cattle under the leadership of a big bull belonging to David M. Horn, Sr. were quietly feeding. The instant the bear appeared Williams took to a tree and viewed the struggle from that vantage point at a distance of some fifty yards. The unsuspecting cattle did not see the bear until he rushed in and killed a calf standing beside its mother. The cow attempted to defend her calf, but a stroke from the big paw left the cow dead. The bull charged down upon the bear; "Reelfoot" was knocked off his feet by the impact. He arose with a growl and charged the bull several times until he succeeded in seizing the bull and bringing him to his death. The bear made a meal of the calf, then wallowed in a mudhole and left. Williams identified the bear by the tracks after the fight was over.
    William A. Wright tried repeatedly to trap him but always failed. He then tried out a plan of setting his 50-70 Sharps carbine to kill him. The intelligence and cunningness of the bear was soon evident. Wright arranged his loaded carbine, tied to a tree along Slide Creek, in such a way that he thought it impossible for the bear to get at the bait without standing where he would receive the bullet from the carbine. The bear approached the bait from the lower side of the tree, reached around the tree, and started to pull the bait away when the carbine was discharged, but the bullet missed. Again and again Wright tried every plan known to effect his capture, but always failed, so for a time gave it up.
    So for several years the herds of cattle were being depleted by this grizzly's vicious acts. The cattle men banded together and offered a sizable reward for his capture. Among those having the largest herds and suffering the heaviest losses were Major Barron of Ashland, Oregon, and David M. Horn, Sr. of Hornbrook, California. These cattle men, along with others, combined and offered a reward of $2,700.00 to any person or persons who could prove the killing of "Reelfoot." This stimulated the hunters of this region to extraordinary efforts, and many hard days' tramp and many lonely nights by campfires resulted only in confirming the hunters in the belief that "Reelfoot" could not be caught.
    Hunters and cattle men, singly and in groups, hunted for him again and again, but all to no avail. His tracks were often seen, and he was known to be in the vicinity, but he kept out of the sight of the hunters.
    "Reelfoot" possessed a remarkable cunningness in eluding all his pursuers, avoiding the dangers of the many traps set for him. He would seldom return to a kill after he had eaten a meal. It took a beef for every meal. By keeping well concealed in the daytime and traveling at a rate almost impossible for a man or horse to keep up with him, the bear for many years baffled the efforts of the best hunters to kill or trap him.
    George Cook, a noted hunter and guide, put in quite a lot of time seeking "Reelfoot," and had the good fortune to get a shot at the noted bear; a 38-55 rifle bullet [was] lodged in his shoulder, where it was found flattened against the shoulder blade after the bear was killed years later.
    During the spring following the hard winter of 1889 and 1890 hundreds of cattle had just been loosened on the range land to graze the southward slopes of hillsides between Hornbrook and Pilot Rock. "Reelfoot" frequently roamed the Pilot Rock area during the early spring, and it was believed he denned up in that area.
    On April 4, 1890, William A. Wright saddled his horse on his home ranch at Camp Creek and rode to Hornbrook. On his return he met Pedro Smith, who lived on his homestead at the head of Dry Creek, on his way to Klamathon. He reported to Wright the killing of a cow by "Reelfoot" along Dry Creek, belonging to David M. Horn, Sr. The incident was also reported around Klamathon town. Wright continued on his way, stopping at the ranch of the Bean family on Pine Creek. He invited Purl R. Bean to go with him the following day to hunt for the cattle-killing bear. Bean, an experienced hunter himself, was delighted to try his luck. The next morning on arriving at the Bean ranch Wright found three other hunters eager to accompany them on the hunt. On that day, April 5, 1890, the five hunters started after the famous bear, fully determined to capture him if possible. They desired to separate, three going in a different direction than the other two. The country was exceedingly rough, with its high peaks and deep rocky canyons, mostly covered with thick brush and deep snow on the north hillsides, consequently one that was very difficult for man or beast to travel over.
    The two men, William A. Wright and Purl R. Bean, who were together, found fresh tracks of the bear, and thought it best to report the finding to the rest of the party. After a brief rest the five men returned to the spot of fresh tracks, following them for several miles, soon sighting the bear in the distance. One of the party, being the owner of some dogs brought along for the purpose, unleashed them on the bear's trail, against the expressed wishes of the remainder of the party. Consequently both bear and dogs kept out of sight of the hunters, so the chase ended unsuccessfully again. Weary and disheartened after hunting for four days, the men were ready to return to their homes. Owing to the results of this hunt, William A. Wright and Purl R. Bean decided to try again later on and by themselves; in fact they decided on the very next day.

William A. Wright (left), Purl R. Bean
    Both these men were good hunters and mountaineers and knew the area they were to cover. Wright was 41 years of age, seasoned with many years of experience on the frontier and having [had] three previous narrow escapes from grizzlies. His physical ruggedness and determined courage fitted him well for the hardships and dangers often met with on the western frontier. Bean was a youth of 17 [sic] years, but much older in experience, having grown up in the mountains. He was a good hunter and a crack shot, endowed with great courage.
    So at the dawn of a new day, April 10, 1890, Wright and Bean, with two dogs, started on a bear hunt that resulted in the death of the much-feared grizzly, "Reelfoot," and was to grace the pages of history and the talk of the country far and near for years to come.
    After traveling several miles they came suddenly upon the object of their hunt, about three miles south of Pilot Rock, near Wildcat Gulch, in Siskiyou County, California, and near the Oregon border.
    The bear when first sighted had just gotten up from his bed, made on a flattened wood rat's nest. It was believed that he had gotten the scent of the hunters, and his cunning instinct started him to move along his way. The hunters were standing on a hillside, about one hundred feet from the little gulch, looking up at the bear on the opposite hillside, some three hundred feet from the gulch. They both at once fired from the rear at a distance of about one hundred and twenty-five yards as the bear left his bed; both bullets took effect. As soon as shot he showed fight and made for the hunters, tearing up with his teeth large shrubs and brush in his anger, and fighting the two dogs as he came. Blended with the rifle fire was the barking of the two dogs and the roaring growls of an enraged grizzly bear. The hunters stood their ground, to kill or be killed, taking good aim and firing as fast as possible and with good effect. By this time the bear had fought his way down to the bottom of the gulch, where the dogs "bayed" him for a few minutes, giving the hunters time to reload their repeating rifles.
    Although the bear showed some signs of weakening, the dogs were tired also. The men agreed that Wright would shoot for his head, and Bean for the heart. With their rifles fully loaded again they started firing; still the weakened bear fought his way up the hillside of the gulch, trying to get at his assailants. When within forty feet of the men the great bear unexpectedly toppled over dead. Thus ended the career of this much-feared and noted grizzly. The hunters probably breathed a sigh of relief and no doubt felt a gratitude toward the two dogs for their much-needed help in bringing their hunt to a successful conclusion.
    It was never known how many cattle this old and vicious grizzly killed during the twenty-odd years he was known to be a killer, but the figures were estimated to be in the hundreds.
    With horses and sled the two successful hunters hauled the bear down from the mountains to the Bean ranch home, and began to prepare the hide for mounting. It was mounted by an amateur taxidermist, and in time the hide began to spoil, so it was necessary to dismount it and it was taken to another taxidermist, but due to the spoiled condition it was impossible to make a good job of mounting. This is the reason the mounted animal does not have the exact appearance of a grizzly bear. Missing is the hump so characteristic of the grizzly. However, the mounted bear was placed on a wagon drawn by a team of mules, and displayed for ten cents per person in the towns and villages throughout western Oregon and northern California.

    Wright, a family man with a ranch and cattle, was anxious to sell the mounted bear and return to his home; this was accomplished in, I believe, 1892, for the sum of $500.00. The bear was then displayed in many cities and towns throughout the United States, and finally seems to have disappeared. In the late 1930s an effort was made to locate the mounted bear by Gordon Jacobs and others, to have it returned and placed in the Siskiyou County Museum in Yreka, California. Several clues were run down and checked, but to no avail. Servicemen returning from World War Two from overseas reported that they believed the bear was in a museum in London, England. So the hunt began again. All museums in England, France and Germany were contacted without success. At this writing the whereabouts of the memorable old bear "Reelfoot" are a mystery.
    In 1912 I acquired the number six Newhouse trap used by Wright to catch the bear. In 1922 I acquired the number six Newhouse trap from which "Reelfoot" escaped, leaving three of his toenails. This trap was stolen from my ranch in 1950. In 1924 I became the owner of the 50-70 Sharps carbine used by Wright as a "set" gun, but this was destroyed by fire in the same year. The three toenails were for many years on display at the home ranch of the Grieve brothers; one of them was stolen. The remaining toenails, which are 4½ inches long, are owned by George A. Grieve and are on display at the Siskiyou County Museum in Yreka, California. I understand at this writing that Mrs. Mackey, sister of Purl R. Bean, still has the bullets taken from "Reelfoot" after he was killed. It is not known what became of Bean's 44-40 Winchester Model 1873 rifle, used in the slaying of the bear. The 56-46 Spencer rifle that Wright used was, before coming into the possession of the Wright family, owned by G. A. Nordheim, an early California gunsmith of Yreka, California. He had made a target rifle of the Spencer, by fitting a heavy barrel and set trigger, bringing the weight to thirteen pounds. I have handled the rifle many times at our old home ranch on Camp Creek. I have in possession some pictures of the mounted "Reelfoot."
    In conclusion, I hope this article has given some of the real facts and will clear up many of the misleading statements that have been made and printed about "Reelfoot."
By Geo. F. Wright
April 10, 1958
Transcribed from a typescript in the possession of the Rogue Valley Genealogical Society. Though the typescript is twice dated 1958, on it Wright's ZIP code is typed after his address, and a copy of a Reelfoot article from the August-September 1966 issue of Frontier Times is bound with it.  An undated copy is in the collection of the Southern Oregon Historical Society, MS1388, Box 1.
    For more details on the locations of incidents, mentioned, click here.


Old Reel Foot
By G. F. Wright

There's a range of mountains in the far West, called the Siskiyous,
    Where the Indian fights was fought long, long ago,
'Twas before the railroads come o'er the great divide,
    'Twas when the old stage road was open over the Siskiyous.
----
'Twas when the deer slept on the hillside,
    'Twas when the cougars and lynx hid in the bushes;
Then coyotes, wildcats and cougars were plenty,
    But away and goodbye, they all had to pass.
----
Then bear was there, yes there by the thousands,
    And they roamed o'er the hills and lived fat as could be,
But the hunters came west with their guns and their traps,
    And killed them off by the hundreds.
----
But there was one old grizzly which they never could capture,
    And they couldn't never get this bear into a trap,
He would kill a cow, eat his lunch, then off he'd go,
    Many of the bear hunters was afraid of him, and of his track too,
----
From Dead Indian to the Siskiyous he sure knew his range,
    And from the Klamath River to Preston Peak too,
And he'd stand in the bushes and watch for the hunters,
    Then away he'd go and ne'er stop to rest.
----
Bruce Grieve went out with his forty-four and his forty-two-pound trap,
    He said he would get him or he would know why,
He caught the bear by two of his toes,
    But somehow or other he pulled off his toes,
----
From that time till now he was called old Reel Foot,
    A many a time they set traps for him and guns too,
And time and gain they thought they would get him,
    But to bring back Old Reel Foot the boys they did fail,
----
For years and years they all tried to get him,
    But he'd look back at the boys and give them the bear laugh,
Till Billy Wright and Purl Bean said they could get him,
    So out they started in search for Reel Foot,
----
Billy Wright with his old Spencer rifle,
    And Purl Bean with his old forty-four Winchester,
Then they seen him moseying over a ridge,
    They took down their guns and began to fire.
----
When the firing was done the bear was dead,
    And then his cattle killing days was ended,
The first shot from the old Spencer rifle
    Has proven the only fatal shot.
----
The old rust-covered Spencer rifle hangs on the wall still,
    The grizzly bear days has gone by long, long ago,
But those two oldtimers are still dreaming in their cabins,
    Dreaming of the wild and woolly frontier days that has gone by.
Not dated.  SOHS MS 1388, Box 1


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

    Mr. Henry Newell informs us that it is estimated by Sprague River stockmen that over forty head of cattle have been killed by grizzly bear since spring. Jesse Parker killed one large bear and wounded another last week. Owing to a misunderstanding as to the bounty, he quit the hunt and returned home, promising to come back sometime in the future.--Examiner.
Oregon Sentinel,
Jacksonville, August 9, 1884, page 3


    OLD TWISTY.--That old bear, "Twisted Foot," has killed over five hundred dollars' worth of cattle for Maj. Barron alone, besides what little butchering he may have done for other stock owners. He is now supposed to be an enormous cinnamon, instead of a grizzly, and the hunters are a little more careful than they were when they thought him a grizzly. When a man is up a tree he is safe from a grizzly, but the cinnamon bears are good climbers, as well as most desperate fighters. "Twisty's" foot leaves a track in the mud about the size of a Mexican sombrero, and his teeth penetrate the skull and meet in the brain of a big steer when he happens to make a square bite in his butchering business.
Ashland Tidings, September 12, 1884, page 3


    BACK AGAIN.--The old grizzly surnamed "Old Twisted Foot," alias "Club Foot," who has preyed upon the cattle in the Siskiyou and Cascade ranges for several years, was supposed to have been killed by a set-gun trap last fall, but, lo, he turns up again, and is now ready for another summer's campaign. Kennedy, the Siskiyou bear sharp, would have sworn last year that Old Twisty had received his death wound, but the fresh imprint of the familiar wounded foot seen on the range last week convinces him that he was mistaken. He says he'll have him this year, sure.
Ashland Tidings, May 8, 1885, page 3


    The old grizzly "Reel-Foot" killed a young steer within one or two hundred yards of Howard's station the other day. A reward of $150 is offered for his scalp, but he still carries the scalp with him.
"Brevities," Ashland Tidings, June 12, 1885, page 3


    W. S. Webb shot a half-grizzly bear near Howard's station last Saturday which was at first thought to be old Reel Foot. It was a cross between a grizzly and a cinnamon, and had been wounded in the foot--also carried a bullet in its hip which had evidently been put there some years ago. Ed. Barron examined the carcass and reported that it was not Reel Foot. It was a good bear to kill, nevertheless--an old one which had no doubt killed some of the stock charged to old Reel Foot's account. It was chasing Howard's hogs when seen by Webb, and he gave it a center shot through the heart. The bear straightened up on its haunches and then Webb shot it again, the bullet entering its brain and laying Bruin out "cold."

"Brevities," Ashland Tidings, June 19, 1885, page 3


The Crippled Bear in Oregon,
for Whose Scalp a Reward  of $150 Is Offered.

    PORTLAND, ORE., June 17.--Four years since a monster grizzly bear commenced depredating the stock ranches twenty miles south of Ashland. He would descend from the fastnesses of the Rogue River Mountains whenever his appetite might prompt him to do so, and perpetrate wholesale slaughter on the horses, sheep and hogs of the ranchmen. During these years the ranchmen have planted half a dozen Winchester balls in his carcass, but still he refuses to succumb.
    About a year since the grizzly walked off, leaving a good piece of his foot in a huge trap, cautiously prepared for him in a thicket. Since then he has had a gait peculiarly his own, and the wary huntsmen who have occasionally caught sight of him, but could not bring him down, have given him the name of Grizzly Reel-Foot.
    Last week he ambled down to Howard's Station, on the Oregon, Idaho & California stage line, and, breaking the back of a two-year-old steer, sat upon him and ate him for lunch. This exasperated more than ever the ranchmen who had on divers occasions been forced to beat hasty retreats when coming unexpectedly upon him. They raised a purse of $150 for the Nimrod who would bring in the grizzly's scalp. Several noted bear hunters, including Jim Wilson, Harry Woodburn, Charley Taylor, and others, with trained dogs, are now in search of him in his mountain resorts. His tracks measure fourteen inches each, and when he descends the hills through the underbrush he is said to thrash the ground like a cyclone. His bulk is gigantic. Many aver that he does not weigh an ounce less than a thousand pounds. He is an ugly, vicious brute, and, unless the hunters get him, the chances are even that he will get them.
Ohio Democrat, New Philadelphia, Ohio, July 2, 1885, page 2


    W. S. Webb and Alex. Zevely are still on the trail of old "Reel Foot," and expect to bring in his scalp before many days.

"Brevities," Ashland Tidings, July 3, 1885, page 3



    The California papers are publishing as sober fact that yarn of the Chronicle about Reel-foot being killed by a couple of counter-jumpers from San Francisco. For the benefit of the editors who may be misled in this important matter, we will state that Reelfoot still lives, and the $150 reward still is offered for his foot and head.

"Brevities," Ashland Tidings, August 14, 1885, page 3


DO GRIZZLIES CLIMB TREES?
A Report Directly from California Showing That They Do.
San Francisco Chronicle.
   Two months since the citizens of Howard's Station offered $150 reward for the scalp of an immense grizzly bear that had been depredating the stock ranches of Siskiyou County. The bear's career as robber of the corrals extended over four years, his last act being to kill a two-year-old steer, perch himself upon the animal and proceed to make a meal of him. The reward impelled several of the most noted bear hunters to look for him, but in a very wary way, for Bruin had made mincemeat of a dozen or more dogs, besides being alive and healthy after four Winchester balls had been planted in him and after he had lost a portion of one of his feet in a great trap. "Grizzly Reelfoot" has been the name by which he has since been known, owing to his consequent ambling gait.
    Thomas Jones and Charles Meredith went up on the California and Oregon Railroad two weeks ago for a hunt. They returned yesterday, and report that Henry Woodburn and Link Wilson, of Linkville, Oregon, with themselves, succeeded at last in killing him. They got on his trail in the deep woods immediately south of Howard's Station, and, with the aid of Wilson's four trained dogs, succeeded in treeing him after following him through canyons and jungles for over seven miles. Hearing the dogs baying, Wilson, who was in the lead, rushed forward, only to find two of his favorite dogs lying dead on the ground. Blood covered the bushes, and great shreds of flesh appeared here and there. Looking upward, the bear appeared wending his way on a distended limb about forty feet from the ground. He was showing his teeth and growling fearfully. Wilson, quickly raising his gun, fired twice in rapid succession, but without dislodging him. The other three hunters then arriving, they also commenced firing, when the ponderous brute dropped to the ground. He was immediately seized by the remaining dogs, but, badly wounded as he was, he made a vicious fight, killing one dog and tearing the coat of Meredith, who had ventured too near, off his back. A final shot from Jones, however, finished him. The grizzly weighed over 900 pounds.
The Critic, Logansport, Indiana, August 30, 1885, page 7


Grizzlies Again.
    Old "Reel-foot," the grizzly that has killed so many cattle up in the Siskiyous and Cascades during the past few years, is again making his familiar tracks up at the head of Keene and Sampson creeks, and has driven all the cattle down from that neighborhood to the low ranges in the valley. Old "Reel-foot" is an expert butcher, and the cattle all seem to know his reputation. A larger grizzly than he was killed last Saturday on the east or south side of Bald Butte by one of the Grieve boys, Joe Shepherd and others. He was first caught in a trap set in a spring where he regularly drank and bathed. The trap was chained to a fir tree over a foot in diameter, and the bear gnawed the tree in two and dragged off a part of it to a hiding place in a dense thicket. By the aid of dogs he was trailed and killed. He was an immense brute, and rolling fat--having had a choice beef range, this side of the Klamath, all winter.
Ashland Tidings, June 4, 1886, page 3


    Some of Maj. Barron's cattle driven down from the mountains by old "Reel-foot" have the marks of big claws upon them, showing that old Reel's hold slips sometimes.
"Brevities,"
Ashland Tidings, June 4, 1886, page 3


After "Old Reelfoot."
    Wm. Wright, of Henley, and a son of Mr. Bean, of Keene Creek, had an exciting chase after a huge grizzly up among the great snowbanks of the Siskiyous recently. They were looking for stock and found the track of the bear and, concluding that it was old "Reelfoot" himself, thought the present a good season of the year in which to capture his hide and scalp and rid the range of his depredations. They came upon the bear somewhere in the region of Bald Mountain, and gave him a good dose of lead to begin with, but it didn't seem to damage him much, and he started off on a long trip across the country, with the men after him. They had snowshoes and the bear hadn't, and as he was compelled to plow his way along, with the snow up to his throat much of the time, they had the advantage of him, and were sure they would wind up his career. But old "Reelfoot" has fate on his side, and the snowshoes of the hunters soon "went back" on them and the bear made his escape, taking with him, however, eight rifle balls deposited in various parts of his thievish hulk. He was in good flesh and as strong as a grizzly can get, or he would never have escaped. The reason of his good condition was found in the discovery that his headquarters were in the midst of the carcasses of some forty horses that had been caught in the deep snow and perished during the winter.
Ashland Tiding, March 28, 1890, page 3


Two Bands of Horses Perish in the Mountains.
Ashland Tidings.
    Messrs. Wright and Bean, while in pursuit of the old grizzly known as "Reel Foot" last week, found two bands of dead horses in the mountains up near Pilot Rock. In one place they found forty-three dead animals, and at the other place between fifty and sixty. Some of the horses had plunged into the deep snow and died in a standing position. The old grizzly had made camp right among them, and had an abundance of French beef for his subsistence. The horses were from the ranches of the Klamath River side of the mountains, belonging to Temple Horn and others, and gathering together after the storms began, in the most sheltered places, were soon surrounded with snow so deep that escape became impossible. In their pangs of hunger they had eaten trees three inches in diameter nearly through. The mountain storms always drive cattle to the valleys, but horses perversely keep on ascending when the storms come, unless followed and driven down by the ranchers. They were looking for stock and found the track of the bear and, concluding that it was "Reelfoot" himself, thought the present a good season of the year in which to capture his hide and scalp and rid the range of his depredations. They came upon the bear some, where in region of Bald Mountain, and gave him a good dose of lead to begin with, but it didn't seem to damage him much, and he started off on a long trip across the country, with the men after him. They had snowshoes and the bear hadn't, and as he was compelled to plow his way along, with the snow up to his throat much of the time, they had the advantage of him and were sure they would wind up his career. But old "Reelfoot" has fate on his side, and the snowshoes of the hunters "went back" on them and the bear made his escape, taking with him, however, eight rifle balls deposited in various parts of his thievish hulk. He was in good flesh and as strong as a grizzly can get, or he never would have escaped. The reason of his good condition was found in the discovery that his headquarters were in the midst of the carcasses of some forty horses that had been caught in the deep snow and perished during the winter.
The Eugene City Guard, April 5, 1890, page 1



Many bears were called "Reelfoot" or "Clubfoot," but only the bear killed in the Siskiyous on April 10, 1890 was called both:

Old Reelfoot Killed.
    A Henley, California correspondent sends us the following account of how old "Reelfoot," the noted grizzly bear, the terror of the Siskiyous, finally came to grief: "Last week a quartet of hunters, including a famous local bear hunter, started out with a solid determination to capture the old varmint or die in the attempt. They raised his majesty near Pilot Rock, but he was too active for them, and before they could come up with him night came on. The next morning Billy Wright and a boy named Bean started early on the trail and soon came to a small canyon, on the far side of which was a dense thicket. Feeling pretty sure that bruin was in there, Billy skirmished around the head of the little canyon, above the brush, and commenced to roll stones into the thicket. The old fellow reared up on his hind legs and the boy made signs to Billy, who returned at once, and none too soon, for the bear at once started out. Just as he reached open ground Wright shot him through the abdomen and he turned and charged on them. Just as he reached the bottom of the canyon both hunters began firing and two balls pierced the brute's heart. He kept on in his charge, however, and was within a few feet of the boys when he began to stagger, and, striking his shoulder against a juniper tree, he fell over dead. He is thought to have weighed 1400 pounds, and the hunters displayed great coolness in facing that amount of concentrated angry grizzly bear. He had lost the toes off one foot in a trip many years ago, giving his foot a deformed appearance, and for twelve long years has been a terror to stockmen. Time and again hunting parties have been organized to run him down, but none has been successful until now. Wright was offered $100 for the hide, stuffed and mounted, but refused it, and with the assistance of Mr. Grieve will preserve and prepare it for exhibition."
Democratic Times, Jacksonville, April 17, 1890, page 2
      A FAMOUS BEAR.--The old bear who has been a terror to the stockmen of Jackson, Klamath and Siskiyou counties has been killed. Jas. L. Coyle of Henley writes these particulars to the Yreka Journal: Billy Wright and a boy named Bean killed the celebrated grizzly "Club Foot" one day last week, about 7 miles from here. The cattlemen of this vicinity had a bounty of $75 offered, and I understand a bounty of $100 or more was offered in Southern Oregon. Wright and Bean found his track at 9 a.m. and followed it until noon, when they located him in a thicket of scrub oak, near Diehl Springs. Rocks were rolled down the hill, and the bear came out. Both fired at the same time, and the grizzly fell, but immediately got up again and started for the boys. He got within thirty or forty feet of them, and dropped dead. Ten shots were fired, and all were found in his body, two passing through his heart. He measured ten inches between the ears and 18 inches from nose to top of head. The toes were cut off in a trap seven or eight years ago, which gave him the name of "club foot." His track was unmistakable, and he has killed hundreds of dollars worth of cattle in this vicinity and Southern Oregon in the past twelve years. He weighed over 1400 pounds.
Albany Daily Democrat, Albany, Oregon, April 19, 1890, page 4


Old Reelfoot Killed.
    The old bear who has been a terror to the stockmen of Jackson, Klamath and Siskiyou counties has at last been killed. Jas. L. Coyle, of Henley, writes these particulars to the Yreka Journal:
    "Billy Wright, and a boy named Bean, killed the celebrated grizzly 'Club Foot' one day last week about 7 miles from here. The cattlemen of this vicinity had a bounty of $75 offered, and I understand a bounty of $100 or more was offered in Southern Oregon. Wright and Bean found his track at 9 a.m. and followed it until noon, when they located him in a thicket of scrub oak, near Diehl Springs. Rocks were rolled down the hill, and the bear came out. Both fired at the same time, and the grizzly fell, but immediately got up again and started for the boys. He got within 30 or 40 feet of them and dropped dead. Ten shots were fired, and all were found in his body, two passing through his heart. He measured ten inches between the ears and 18 inches from nose to top of head. The toes were cut off in a trap 7 or 8 years ago, which gave him the name of 'club foot.' His track was unmistakable, and he has killed hundreds of dollars worth of cattle in this vicinity and Southern Oregon in the past 12 years. He weighed over 1400 pounds. The boys skinned him carefully, and intend having the hide stuffed for exhibition. He has been systematically hunted for, for several years, and cattlemen consider this a stroke of good luck, that he has been killed at last."
Eugene City Guard, Eugene, Oregon, April 26, 1890, page 4   This article was copied verbatim from the
Valley Record, Ashland, April 17, 1890, page 3


    J. Lomas, who is an experienced taxidermist, so far at least as big game goes, went over to Henley yesterday to stuff the hide of the late "Reelfoot," the "holy terror" to the cattle of the Siskiyou Range for a number of years past. "Reelfoot" has become an "historical character," or at least a local celebrity, and it is a matter of public interest to know that his proportions are to be preserved for the inspection of future generations.
Ashland Tidings, May 16, 1890, page 3


Old Reel-Foot
    ED. YREKA JOURNAL.--Your correspondent visited on Tuesday last the residence of Mr. Wright, one of the slayers of "Old Reel Foot," and witnessed Mr. J. Lomas' arrangements for stuffing and mounting the monster. This was undoubtedly the king of grizzlies for this part of the world. Mr. Lomas thinks he could not have weighed less than 2,000 pounds when killed. Some of the fineness of a front view of his countenance is lost, from the fact that his tusks or canine teeth are worn off to not more than one-half inch in length. But what he lacks in teeth he makes up in claws, which are simply immense. On one foot only two claws are left, and Mr. Grieve has the other three, which he left in a trap some years ago, thus giving him the name of "Old Reel Foot." He will measure nine feet in length, and probably could reach up twelve feet when standing on his hind feet. It is the purpose of Mr. Wright and the boy Purl Bean, who was largely instrumental in getting the bear, and who, by the way, is not seventeen years old yet, and quite a hunter, to exhibit the stuffed animal in Oregon and California this fall.
               G.
Klamath City, May 23, 1890.
Ashland Tidings, May 30, 1890, page 3


OLD REEL-FOOT.
The Monster Grizzly Bear Brought to Ashland for Exhibition on the Fourth.
    Billy Wright and Purl Bean, who killed this world-famous bear in the Siskiyous this spring, had him stuffed by a taxidermist and brought him to Ashland on last evening's train for exhibition. Reelfoot was the most powerful and ferocious bear the world has ever seen (outside of b'ar stories), weighing nearly 1800 pounds when killed. His age is over 40 years, as he has been known in this section since white people came to this country. It took five bullets from each gun to lay him out--all being in vital points. The last one went into him as he was twenty yards off, coming at them bawling loud enough to shake the mountain (apparently).
Valley Record, Ashland, July 3, 1890, page 3


"Reelfoot" on Exhibition.
    W. A. Wright of Henley and Purl Bean of Jenny Creek, who killed the old grizzly "Reelfoot" last April, had the skin of the monster stuffed and mounted in the most lifelike manner, and had it on exhibition in the Ashland grove all day on July 4th. The bear has become such a historical character that everybody will want to take a look at him. He was truly a monster, weighing over 1700 lbs., and being able to get away with a full-grown steer, as he has done more than once. The mounting is very skillfully done, and old "Reelfoot" looms up as big and terrifying in appearance as when he used to follow his butchering business in the Siskiyous and thought nothing of catching a rifle bullet somewhere in his huge bulk occasionally, as he happened to get within range of a daring hunter, says the Tidings.
Democratic Times,
Jacksonville, July 11, 1890, page 1


    Leander Preston, of Shovel Creek, was exhibiting some photos of old "Reelfoot" in town the other day, that were taken of the big bear just after he was stuffed, up near Pilot Rock.
"Brevities," Ashland Tidings, July 18, 1890, page 3



    Many citizens of Medford viewed the mounted remains of "Old Reelfoot," the Siskiyou grizzly bear killed last winter, while the owners had same on exhibition here during the week.
"Medford Squibs," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, July 18, 1890, page 3


    OLD "REEL FOOT."--The two men who killed the old grizzly bear "Reel Foot" had the stuffed skin on exhibition in Eugene Wednesday and Thursday. The bear had been known for 27 years and in that time had destroyed thousands of dollars worth of stock. They secured the standing reward of $500 for killing him. A part of one of his forefeet had been torn off in a trap which caused him to leave a peculiar trail and gave him the name.
The Eugene City Guard,
July 19, 1890, page 5


    Some doubt is expressed by the old hunters in the Siskiyous as to the identity of Messrs. Wright & Bean's stuffed "Reelfoot" with the real Siskiyou terror. As the old fellow has not been heard of on the range since this one was killed, however, the presumption is that the boys have the old depredator's hide.

"Here and There," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, August 1, 1890, page 3


    Old Clubfoot, the grizzly bear that the Nevada newspapers kept alive for years on a diet of Italian woodchoppers, with an occasional baby by way of dessert, will play an important part in the Native Sons' celebration. One of the Los Angeles parlors writes that he will be in their part of the parade, alive. They give his weight at 1,800 pounds.
    The Sierra County Sons have his skin, with head and claws complete, and according to them he weighed exactly 1,947 pounds when he was killed, 4 years ago.
    He is also to come with the Siskiyou County boys, stuffed. He probably lost flesh when he was killed in Sierra, for when the Siskiyou boys slew him three years ago he tipped the beam at only a trifle over 1,400 pounds.
    He was even smaller when he was caught alive in San Diego last fall.
"Clubfoot and the Boys," San Francisco Examiner, August 17, 1890, page 2


March 30th Monday, 1891
    I eat dinner at Mrs Deronzos and took train back for Medford there I attended to business till freight train south and Come home at eight Oclock. I met Mr Hurley and Tom Guier come to Medford and made the trade Mr Hurley to take possession right away. I borrowed of W H Hurley ten dollars. A Man had a big black Bear on exhibition in Medford
    Been nice day
Diary of Welborn Beeson, Talent, Oregon   This was likely a live bear.


Each County Has a "Club-Foot."
    A Siskiyou paper says that "Old Club-foot," the king grizzly of the Sierras, will be one of the prominent features of the coming Fourth of July celebration in Yreka. Without a doubt, Club-foot was the largest grizzly bear ever killed west of the Rocky Mountains, and promises to be an interesting attraction.
The Record-Union, Sacramento, June 16, 1891, page 3


    Dwellers above Shovel Creek assert that the only and original grizzly bear called "Reelfoot" is still living, and that the one killed over a year ago in that section was only a distant cousin of the famous creature which outgeneraled a generation of hunters. Certain it is that one of the genus now operating in that region pursues very much the same line of tactics that has always characterized the wily old brute. If it is not he, he has a worthy successor.

"Here and There," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, June 26, 1891, page 3


"OLD REEL FOOT."
A Story of the Siskiyou Range.
    GRANTS PASS, Ore., Dec. 26.--For many years the construction of a railway across the Siskiyou Range was considered almost an impossibility. The Southern Pacific Company, however, did undertake and carry through the work, and now the trader can sit at his ease and view some of the grandest mountain scenery of the Pacific coast.
    Previous to the completion of the road people crossed the long gap in stages. In many instances the stage and all the passengers were robbed at points in the mountains, which at that period were full of hiding places and retreats for robbers and grizzlies. Now the robbers no longer molest and make afraid, though an occasional grizzly may still be found in the high, wooded elevations that overlook Ashland and the head of the Rogue River Valley. The last one killed there was a fierce monster called "Old Reel Foot," because of a peculiar reeling motion he had when walking or running, owing to a loss of several of the toes of his left forefoot in a trap.
    For many years "Old Reel Foot" was the scourge of the Siskiyou and Cascade Mountain ranchers. He killed for one rancher alone no less than $1,500 worth of stock, and the arena of his depredations embraced a territory some 100 miles long by 50 in width.
    He was liable to turn up by night as suddenly and unexpectedly as the "James boys" used to in the Missouri River regions, and after tapping the jugular vein of a heifer, steer or cow, and drinking the blood, would disappear and remain away for months, for he never returned to make a second meal from the same victim, like most other bears and beasts of prey.
    He was fat, unusually large, and, as he grew old, very unwieldy in appearance. And yet no creature that haunted the mountains could excel him in getting out of harm's way. It was next to impossible to follow him with hounds, because the dogs that once survived his intimate acquaintance were always glad to let him alone forever afterwards. The hunters dreaded seeking him alone, for he had several times turned upon the pursuer and caused him to flee from the wrath to come and seek salvation in the arms of some friendly tree. But as the boldest and luckiest beast of prey--in the woods as well as in the wheat and stock markets--at last crosses the deadline of doom, so "Old Reel Foot" met his fate at the hands of two hunters, a father and son, who sought him with their Winchesters early one morning in the spring of 1890.
    "Old Reel Foot" had called at a ranch the night previous and left his familiar card and autograph in the form of a dead three-year-old steer bearing the well-known throat marks, and the hunters "loaded for bear" and followed his trail.
    They were moving quietly along near the bottom of a gully when they heard a loud snort and looking across the hollow and up the slope they saw "Reel Foot" not over 150 yards away turning to look at them as he deliberately retreated.
    They took good aim and fired simultaneously, both balls striking him.
    With a horrible and deafening roar that fairly shook the fir trees, he turned and came rushing, or rather tumbling and tearing, down towards his foes, snapping and biting at everything in his way.
    In the meantime the two men kept up their part of the business, well knowing that the fight meant death to them both unless the brute died before reaching them. When within about twenty yards, the creature rose on his hind feet and paused for a final charge, his mouth open, revealing all his fangs, and his little red eyes ablaze with fury. But just as he uttered his last war whoop two balls pierced his heart, and, with a mighty lunge, he rolled over dead at the very feet of his slayers.
    The fact that he weighed some eighteen hundred pounds will give some faint idea of his formidableness as game, as it also proves that the eastern black bear hunts, to which the New York Sun used to give so much space, are mere squirrel play as compared to grizzly hunting in the Siskiyous.
    "Reel Foot's" age could not have been less than fifty years. He had been shot at scores of times in the past quarter of a century, and his carcass carried enough cold lead to load a whole regiment of Mark Twain's "jumping frogs."
    His captors mounted the skin and exhibited the stuffed emblem of competition all up and down the coast last summer, and crowds visited the tent and felt well paid for their "two bits apiece, please."
James G. Clark, St. Paul Daily Globe, December 27, 1891, page 11



    J. K. Leabo has bought of Bean, the bear hunter who captured and killed the famous grizzly bear "Reelfoot" a year or two ago, his boss bear dog, "Watch," who took such an important part in the chase after this destructive old grizzly. "Watch" is a big savage fellow, and Leabo calculates to catch a few bears with him himself this season. Leabo says he paid $50 for the dog.
"Brevities," Ashland Tidings, May 6, 1892, page 3


    Old Reelfoot, the dead grizzly which was such a terror to stockmen in the Siskiyous during his lifetime, and which is now being paraded about the country in his mounted condition, will participate in the coming 4th of July parade at Yreka.
"Here and There," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, June 24, 1892, page 3


    Old Reelfoot, the terror of the Siskiyous, is sure to be heard of all over the continent before his skin wears out. He has been properly mounted and will be exhibited at the coming California fair at Sacramento, and after that will be taken east and be in attendance at the world's fair at Chicago next year, in company with the small boy who made him bite the dust.
"Here and There," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, August 19, 1892, page 3


    W. A. Wright, the Henley hunter, who with Purl Bean killed the celebrated grizzly bear "Reel Foot," intends taking his carcass to the state fair at Sacramento and then to the world's fair. The Journal says of him: His measurement at the time of his death showed that he was 8 feet 7½ inches from tip to tip; between ears 14 inches; height while standing, 4 feet 9 inches; weight 1892 lbs. In death as in life, he is still an object of interest to the public, but less troublesome to the stock men of northern California and southern Oregon. At the last two 4th of July celebrations in Yreka, under the management of the N.S.G.W., "Old Club Foot" was exhibited on a float drawn by four mules, in forming a picture representing the great seal of the state of California, with a young lady seated in a chair, and a miner at work with pick, shovel and pan.

"Brevity Basket," Valley Record, Ashland, August 25, 1892, page 3


    Purl Bean sold his half interest in the dead grizzly, Reelfoot, to J. L. Coyle for $250. W. A. Wright has been exhibiting him in California on his way to the Sacramento fair.
"Brevity Basket," Valley Record, Ashland, September 8, 1892, page 3


    Old Reelfoot, the monster grizzly, which was killed in the Cascades a few years ago, and has been on exhibition in northern California for some time, has been purchased by P. H. Donehue [sic], who intends to exhibit the beast at Chicago next year.

"Brevity Basket," Valley Record, Ashland, November 17, 1892, page 3


    [According to the final report of the California pavilion at the Chicago World's fair there were two stuffed grizzlies in the pavilion. They're pictured on pages 29 and 51; their donors are indexed in the end papers. Neither is the Reelfoot pictured above. It's possible that Reelfoot was remounted--or exhibited independently outside the fair grounds.]


    Wm. A. Wright has returned to Henley after a trip through California with "Old Club Foot." Billy has decided that traveling in a wagon across the United States is too slow and will wait until spring to take a trip by rail and be on hand for the world's fair.

"Personal and Social," Valley Record, Ashland, November 24, 1892, page 3


    W. A. Wright, of Henley, who had been on a tour through California with the stuffed grizzly, Old Reelfoot, returned home recently, and P. H. Donoghue brought the bear show over to Ashland last week, putting up the tent near the railroad depot to catch dimes from passengers who have leisure time for sightseeing while the train stops thirty minutes for refreshments. The mounted grizzly hide is owned by several Hornbrook men, and they will probably sell it to someone who wants to take it to the Chicago fair on a speculation venture.
"Brevities," Ashland Tidings, November 25, 1892, page 3


    Old Reelfoot, the stuffed Siskiyou wonder, has been doing duty as a dime-catcher at the Ashland depot lately during the dull season, while he is recuperating for the labors incident to exhibition next summer at the Chicago fair. Patsy Donohue now has him in charge.

"Here and There," Democratic Times, Jacksonville,
December 2, 1892, page 3


    P. H. Donoghue has been trying to organize a joint stock company to capitalize the celebrated grizzly "Reelfoot," at $50 per share, and take the stony-hearted monarch of the forest up to the world's fair exposition. But Pat found it a difficult job and says the people haven't a proper regard for local pride and home curiosities.

"Brevities Basket," Valley Record, Ashland, December 8, 1892, page 3


WORLD'S FAIR COMMISSION.
Only Business of Minor Importance Transacted.

    There as a brief session of the World's Fair Commission held yesterday morning at its office in the Flood Building. The principal business done was to withdraw an allotment of 391 square feet from the Placer County exhibit, placing the space at the disposal of the board. By this arrangement Placer keeps 1107 square feet of floor area.
    Commissioner Daggett reported that a squaw and a buck from the Siskiyou Mountains would take part in the state's Indian exhibit, providing their fares to Chicago and return should be paid and they should be given the privilege of selling their baskets and other curiosities.
    Commissioner Daggett was instructed to procure a stuffed bear from the Cottonwood district of Siskiyou County to exhibit in the state building. The bear is a fine specimen of the grizzly, and was known as "Clubfoot" to the early herders whose sheep and cattle he overran.
San Francisco Chronicle, December 18, 1892, page 22



    Old Reelfoot, the famous grizzly stuffed with straw, has been bought by Abbott, the man who had his head tomahawked by Martin, and has been shipped away somewhere. Reports as to the price paid vary from $200 to $600. The property was owned by roadmaster Burkhalter and others of Hornbrook.

"Brevities," Ashland Tidings, December 23, 1892, page 3


    Geo. Abbott has bought the carcass of old Reelfoot, the grizzly terror of the Siskiyous, and will take it east for the purposes of exhibition.

"Here and There," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, December 30, 1892, page 3


    Geo. Abbott will show old Reelfoot at the world's fair in a few months behind a piece of canvas sign painting that is a stunner. The artist, H. S. Evans, will not have to depend on his fame being in the hands of connoisseurs, for his production will be constantly before the public at the Columbian exposition in the most conspicuous possible place.

"Here and There," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, January 20, 1893, page 3


    . . . on one pedestal will stand in stuffed grandeur the biggest grizzly bear ever killed in the state, and on an onyx pedestal opposite a bust of Mary Anderson, who is a native of California.
"California at the Fair," Daily Advocate, Newark, Ohio, February 13, 1893, page 6   There were at least two stuffed bears in the California Building at the Chicago World's Columbian Exposition in 1893. Neither of the two seen in photographs was Reelfoot.


    The stuffed carcass of "Old Reelfoot," the huge grizzly who was the terror of the Cascade region for so long, was exhibited in Jacksonville during the week by Abbott & Evans, who propose taking it to the World's Fair. They also had a big eagle on exhibition. Reelfoot was probably the largest bear ever captured on the Pacific coast.
"Local Notes," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, April 7, 1893, page 3


Portland People
Should see the old reel-foot grizzly bear, the largest ever captured in this country, now on exhibition at 68 North Third Street, with the great freak J. E. Barnum, with the largest eagle ever captured. Admission, adults 10¢; children 5¢.
Oregonian, Portland, May 2, 1893, page 5


    The stuffed carcass of "Old Reelfoot," the huge grizzly which was the terror of the Cascade region for nearly a century, will be taken to the world's fair. This was the largest bear ever captured on the Pacific coast, his weight being 3,200 pounds.
"Items in Brief," The Dalles Times-Mountaineer, May 6, 1893, page 1


"Old Reel Foot."
    "Old Reel Foot" was the name of a bear that has struck terror to the heart of many a rancher in the Siskiyous in years agone. This bear was a very large one and frequently slaughtered large beeves. He was hunted by many hardy trappers on various occasions, and always came off first best, except in one instance where he lost one of the claws and injured one of his forefeet. Thereafter he had a limping gait and could be traced by a peculiar track which established his identity. This largest of grizzlies was ever after most wary, and so cute had he become that on one occasion, it is related, when a bait of fresh meat had been artfully arranged on a suspended limb so as to discharge the contents of a gun into him, he stationed himself on the other side of the tree, pulled the bait to one side and downward, the tree being between him and the bait. The charge struck the ground and "Reel Foot" got the prize. Later he was killed by a party of three, and a dangerous bit of work it was. For the last three years he has been on exhibition in various coast towns, and is today in The Dalles. He will be taken to the world's fair.
The Dalles Daily Chronicle, May 9, 1893, page 3



Old Reel Foot Stuffed.
Pendleton East Oregonian.
    The stuffed bear which was on exhibition last week seems to have a history. His name was "Old Reel Foot," and while in the flesh he struck terror to the heart of many a rancher in the Siskiyous for years agone. This bear was a very large one and frequently slaughtered large beeves. He was hunted by many hardy trappers on various occasions, and always came off first best, except in one instance where he lost one of the claws and injured one of his forefeet. Thereafter he had a limping gait, and he could be traced by a peculiar track which established his identity. This largest of grizzlies was ever after most wary, and so cute had he become that on one occasion, it is related, when a bait of fresh meat had been artfully arranged on a suspended limb so as to discharge the contents of a gun into him, he stationed himself on the other side of the tree, pulled the bait to one side and downward, the tree being between him and the bait. The charge struck the ground and "Reel Foot" got the prize. Later he was killed by a party of three, and a dangerous bit of work it was.
Oregonian, Portland, May 29, 1893, page 2


Circus at Weiser.
Signal:
    A pilgrim with a tent has been running a circus in town for several days. He has a stuffed grizzly and a sore arm [sic] on exhibition at 15 cents the round trip.
Owyhee Avalanche, Silver City, Idaho, June 10, 1893, page 2


OREGON'S MOST FAMOUS BEAR.
Sensational Career of a Giant Grizzly.
    TO THE EDITOR OF THE SUN:--Sir: I read the editorial upon "American Game" in today's Sun. I always read The Sun--when I can get it--and next to the Portland Oregonian I think it is the greatest newspaper in America; but that has nothing, however, to do with the "game." Being an Oregonian, my heart naturally swelled at your allusion to the great state which rolls and thunders to the music of her own poet down to the sea, the headwaters of whose mighty river, the Columbia, exchange the whispered confidences with the bubbling springs that give birth to the Father of Waters on the backbone of the continent, the giant Rockies.
    The average citizen knows little of Oregon and less of its attractions, its superb climate, its rich valleys, its stupendous mountain ranges, its cloud-piercing symmetrical peaks, its virgin forests, and last, but not least, the incentive of this screed, its game. And of all the state there is no part that excels in all the desirable attributes as does the Rogue River Valley, down in the southwestern part of the state, separated from California by the golden-ribbed Siskiyou Mountains and celebrated in story and legend as the Italy of America--a very truthful description, if you will select only the very best parts of Italy for comparison--a valley quite as large in area as the state from which I write, but not so well known. However, that may come later.
    Now for real game and a variety the Rogue River Valley (a corruption by impertinent Anglicization of the Canadian voyageurs' Rouge Riviere by the first Yankee diggers of the abundant and flaky gold out of its "red" banks) [Pracht is mistaken about the derivation of the name] is not equaled by any portion of the United States--the four ranges of mountains which enclose it, the Coast Range on the west, the Rogue River Mountains on the north, the Cascades on the east, and the Siskiyous on the south, being the home of the cat, the panther, mountain lion, the deer-elk, the black cinnamon [bear] and that king of beasts the yet unconquered grizzly bear, with innumerable smaller varieties of such satellites as should grace the court and furnish the larder of his regal court with pheasants, grouse, mountain and valley quail, pelicans, geese and ducks, with salmon and trout everywhere, it is and should be known as a very hunter's paradise. It is so common an occurrence for mere boys to go out in the morning from one of the numerous prosperous towns in the valley and return the same day with one or more deer or black bear as a reward for their tramp that it excites no comment, but there was one old grizzly who for a score of years defied all sorts of traps and shooting irons, and lorded it over the denizens of the forests on the northern flanks of the Siskiyous, until nature in one of her angry moods played him false and assisted wily, puny man to his undoing, and his name goes down into history as "Old Reelfoot," and his fame is being perpetrated in story and song, and his immense hide, scarred with years of conflict, is an attraction in a museum. Perhaps thirty years ago, when the world yet was young to him, and an occasional calf or bullock out of a settler's herd a temptation hard to be resisted, the episode happened which ever after gave him a name. He walked into and then walked off with the largest and strongest-jawed bear trap that ever was set out, and as he could not wrench it off he carried it about with him until it rusted away and broke, but left him with a forefoot turned sideways and claws enormously grown, so that ever after his trail was plain to the veriest tyro, and he became known as "Old Reelfoot."
    The number of hunters who hunted and found him, some to their grief, and the quantity of lead he had pumped into him (at long range) is almost incredible. With advancing years his appetite seemed to grow and his temper to sour, and Old Reelfoot became a terror to beasts and a nightmare to men. When the unusually heavy snow of the winter of '91 cut off a band of horses which had been feeding out in the "Dead Indian" country and little by little they made their way to the base of Pilot Rock--a natural monument that rises hundreds of feet out of the crest of the Siskiyous clear and clean, like the sword of King Arthur out of the lake--here they found a shelter from the icy blast, here they were found by Old Reelfoot, and here after days of search by their owners they were found all together--Old Reelfoot sleek, fat and contented, the few horses yet left out of a band of about forty that had not yet passed in their checks to their keeper, terrorized and starving under the mighty banks of snow which towered over them on three sides, and Reelfoot asleep under the ice of Pilot Rock; and to this day it is a mooted question: "Did Old Reelfoot die of a surfeit or did the contents of the magazines of the two 45-90 [sic] Winchesters in the hands of the vaqueros lead him down so he could not get away?"
    And conclusions differ. There is much evidence adduced on both sides of the question, and the visitor from the East is allowed to find his own verdict. When brought into Ashland and his carcass weighed, it was said to weigh over 2,000 pounds, but as to the correctness of this I cannot say. I was not there to see him weighed.
MAX PRACHT, of Oregon.
133 WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET, Jan. 13.
The Sun, New York City, January 20, 1895, page 7


    [The Native Sons of the Golden West] headquarters in Sacramento will be lavishly decorated. The huge stuffed grizzly which was part of California's World's Fair exhibit will be given a prominent position in the decorations.
"Plans of Local Natives," San Francisco Call, August 23, 1895, page 7



    Married--In Medford, Nov. 28th, Mr. Pearl Bean, of Siskiyou County, Calif., and Miss Etta Brown, of Jackson County. Mr. Bean is a mining man of the above-named place and quite well to do. All their friends are extending congratulations and best wishes to the happy couple.
"Kane Creek Items," Medford Mail, December 7, 1900, page 3


    Pearl Bean, who has been ill with the measles, has so far recovered as to be about again.

"Kane Creek Items," Medford Mail, January 24, 1902, page 5


    Mr. and Mrs. Purl Bean and children, accompanied by Miss Ethel Brown, left on Monday's train for California, at which place they will remain. Mr. Bean has mining property near Henley, which he intends to develop this summer.
"Kane Creek Items," Medford Mail, March 28, 1902, page 5


The Slayer of Old Reelfoot
    It is not generally known that Purl Bean, who lives on Kane Creek about seven miles from Gold Hill, is one of the two men who were "in at the death" of "Old Reelfoot," a famous grizzly that ranged Southern Oregon about twenty years ago. The big bear was killed by Mr. Bean and W. A. Wright, now a Klamath County cattleman. During a recent visit to Jackson County Mr. Wright told the story. The carcass was mounted and exhibited in towns through the Pacific Northwest. While in Washington a traveling man saw the dead grizzly and conceived the idea of taking him to the Chicago world's fair. He bought "Old Reelfoot" and made money by showing him at the big fair. Altogether Mr. Wright realized about $800 on his exploitation and sale of the remains of the old terror of the Siskiyous.
Gold Hill News, December 3, 1910, page 1


Duel Lands One in Jail and One in Hospital
[Special Dispatch to The Call]
    YREKA, Aug. 28.--George Miller, twice wounded by bullets, is in the county hospital, and William A. Wright, the man behind the gun, is in the county jail as the result of a shooting that occurred yesterday morning near the Siskiyou Power Company's plant on Klamath River, near Jenny Creek.
    The two men met on a train. No one saw the shooting. Miller tells one story and Wright is reticent.
    Miller was shot once over the eye and once in the shoulder. He will recover.
San Francisco Call, August 29, 1911, page 4



KLAMATH TRAGEDY
William A. Wright, Slayer of the Famous Grizzly Reelfoot,
Mortally Wounds George Miller

    A recent dispatch from Hornbrook says: As a climax to a long-standing feud between two of its well-known citizens, William A. Wright, for forty-two years a resident of Mountain township, is here in the custody of Constable C. L. Hughes, charged with attempted murder, while George Miller, his victim, is at Yreka, with one eye torn away and another bullet through his shoulder. He will recover.
    Wright was on horseback and Miller was in a wagon when they met on a lonely highway. Each realized it was a question of who could shoot the most quickly.
    After the shooting Wright went to his home and sent word to the brother of the wounded man where he would find Miller. Then Wright started for this place, thirteen miles distant, to surrender himself.
    Wright refused to go into the details of his trouble with Miller or to describe the final scene further than to say the quarrel began with lawsuits, which grew more and more bitter.
    Wright is 60 years old and has a family. Miller, aged 35, has a large family and is one of a family of boys who are very clannistic.
Valley Record, Ashland, August 30, 1911, page 1


    H. H. Lampman of the Hill Billy Ranch caught and killed "Old Clubfoot," the largest bear in the Asbestos section. This old bear had his left hind foot clubbed and has been prowling over the hills of the Umpqua country for the last generation, and is well known to anyone who has ever hunted in that section. Many hunters have followed his trail without success. He was killed stealing pigs on the Hill Billy Ranch. He weighed 450 pounds.

"Local and Personal," Medford Sun, April 18, 1915, page 8



PURL RILEY BEAN PASSES SUDDENLY OF HEART ATTACK
    Purl Riley Bean, 63, husband of Mrs. Etta Bean, passed away very suddenly from a heart attack at the home of his daughter, Mrs. Leon White, on Kings Highway Friday evening, November 5.
    Mr. Bean was born in Independence, Ore., Feb. 14, 1874. With his parents he came to southern Oregon at an early age, and had spent his entire life in southern Oregon and northern California.
    He was united in marriage to Etta Brown in Jacksonville, Oregon Nov. 27, 1900. His wife and nine children survive.
    Mr. Bean's father was an early pioneer of this district, coming to northern California in 1852. He was a cousin of two well-known and respected citizens of Oregon, the past utilities commissioner Louis Bean and Robert Bean, federal probation judge at Portland. Mr. Bean was an old hunting partner of John B. Griffin, and was a member of the party that killed the famous large grizzly bear on the Siskiyou Mountains in 1890.
    Mr. Bean was a miner and spent all his life at that occupation. He leaves many friends and neighbors who will grieve at his passing and will miss him very much.
    He leaves, besides his wife Etta, seven daughters, Mrs. Rose Shaffer and Mrs. Lillie Nelson, Weed, Calif.; Mrs. Francis White, Medford; Mrs. Pearl Keffel and Mrs. Vera Johnston, Mt. Shasta, Calif.; Mrs. Elsie Shaffer, Grants Pass, Ore.; and Mrs. Edna Sherler of Seattle, Wash. Two sons, Robert Bean, Medford, and Fred Bean, Salt Lake City, Utah; two sisters, Mrs. Lottie Mackey, Callahan, Cal., and Mrs. Emma Brown, Izee, Oregon, and one brother, Hank Bean, Yreka, Calif.
    Funeral services will be held at the Perl Funeral Home Tuesday at 2:00 p.m., Rev. Sherman L. Divine officiating. Interment will be in the Medford I.O.O.F. cemetery.

Medford Mail Tribune, November 8, 1937, page 3



It Was Wright Not Griffin
To the Editor:
    I would like to have this mistake corrected in the papers. It was printed in the death notice of Purl Riley Bean. He was a hunting partner of William A. Wright and not John B. Griffin. He and Mr. Wright were hunting alone when they came upon the grizzly bear which they had trailed for nearly a month, Mr. Bean being the one that fired the shot that killed the bear known as old "reel foot."
    The bear was killed on April 10, 1890. This is at the family's request.
MRS. WHITE.               
    Medford, Nov. 15.
Medford Mail Tribune, November 16, 1937, page 6


    One of the most interesting stories I have ever worked up is that concerning one "Clubfoot," a monstrous grizzly that roamed the Siskiyous for many years.
    Securing authentic data concerning this giant bear has taken me nearly three years and innumerable trips through two states, besides an endless amount of correspondence. The story as I now have it has been authenticated to an extent that it may be considered bona fide in all details, with the possible exception of his exact weight, which was never accurately known. I have seen, set and sprung the huge trap in which he was first caught nearly ninety years ago. I have held in my hand one of the three claws which he lost when he wrenched out of the trap, so deforming his foot as to make his track always recognizable and gave him the name of "Clubfoot." I have talked with the wife (still living) of one of the two men who killed him and with the nephew of the other. I have handled the gun and I have talked to a man who as a boy watched the stuffing of the great pelt--for stuffed it was, not mounted. But now I have almost told the story.
    Clubfoot first emerged on the page of history when he stampeded the horses of Fremont's expedition in the mountains of Southern Oregon in the fateful year of 1846. This record is indistinct but possible. Ten years later he was definitely on the record when the Grieve brothers, living on the Klamath River, captured him in a bear trap about a mile from their cabin. They could plainly hear the growls and roars. Taking their dogs they went out to finish him, but as they approached he wrenched loose and fled, leaving three claws and part of his right forefoot. This loss branded him for life, causing his foot to turn over and leave a track which could always be recognized.
    His tracks around slaughtered livestock were found from the extreme eastern tip of the Siskiyous to the foothills of the Coast Range.
    Each spring he made his raids on ranches around Humboldt Bay; each fall found him killing stock in the shadow of Pilot Rock, one hundred and fifty miles airline and three watersheds distant.
    Stockmen put up heavy offers for his scalp, but Clubfoot never again was to be caught in a trap. He delighted, however, in robbing sets made for his benefit and invariably escaped without springing the trap.
    During the next thirty years stories of Clubfoot were the ever-present topic for conversation wherever men stopped to pass the breeze in three counties and two states.
    In the spring of 1882 a sheepherder named J. D. Williams witnessed one of the dramas which must have been quite usual in Clubfoot's life. Williams was herding sheep on a hillside. Below him in the glade cattle were quietly feeding, led by a big bull owned by David Horn.
    Suddenly the herder observed a giant grizzly which he later confirmed as being Clubfoot creeping cautiously toward the unsuspecting cattle.
    Suddenly he charged for a calf. The mother attempted to defend her young, but was laid helpless with one stroke.
    The bull then charged down upon Clubfoot, and a terrible struggle ensued. The bear was knocked into the brush by the impact of the enraged bull. He arose and charged again and again and finally seizing the bull by the nose and, with a powerful twist, broke the bull's neck.
    With the retreating snows of April, 1890, Clubfoot met his nemesis in the shape of a young lad named Purl Bean and his hunting companion, William A. Wright. They were near neighbors on Camp Creek, a tributary of the Upper Klamath River. Hunting together, they came on the tracks of Clubfoot in the soft, mushy snow.
    At first the older man advised against following the trail through the heavy going alone, but the seventeen-year-old would not listen to advice. So against the better judgment of the older man they struck off along the still-steaming trace of the big grizzly. Within an hour they came within sight of him as he plowed through the snow up the far slope of the creek. They fired and Clubfoot whirled in his tracks and charged; again they fired, and again, and Clubfoot now was across the creek and hurtling toward them, eighteen hundred pounds of maddened brute force. There was no turning now, only fire, fire, fire, as fast as the old 50-70 Sharps could spit its little leaden slug--so much lead and so little powder behind it! So much bear and that vital heart so deeply buried!
    The bear lay dead at their feet! Neither could have told coherently what had happened in the past ten seconds.
    Clubfoot's adventures, however, did not end with his death. He was mounted by more or less amateur taxidermists in the little town of Ashland near the head of the Rogue River Valley in Southern Oregon. Up and down the West Coast he was exhibited until finally he wound up in Portland. Here he was sold for $500.00.
    In 1892 came the dazzling Columbian Exposition in Chicago. Here Clubfoot hid in [a] canvas tent while the barker outside described the man-eating grizzly--"To be seen within for one time--ten cents, step right up, please."
    From Chicago Clubfoot traveled to Europe with a certain Dr. Jordan. The last record we have of him is a yellowed newspaper article that tells of his being exhibited at all the principal cities in a grand tour of the continent.
    That he ever came back to America is doubtful. Museums have been searched without result. Some rumors have it that he was destroyed in the fire following San Francisco's great disaster of 1906. This could have happened--however, there is nothing to indicate that Clubfoot was in the city.
    The records of Clubfoot's size are unverified except that from his picture we may gauge them to be quite reasonable. This picture is a reasonable copy of a photograph of the bear as he was exhibited at the World's Fair. The retouching simply added the spark to the eye and the hump in the back which the inexperienced taxidermists were unable to secure. In fact, mounted, Clubfoot looked exactly as though his skin had been pulled over a log.
    His weight has been given as anywhere from 1850 to 2250 pounds. A. E. Doney says of his other measurements:
    "One morning I drove to the depot office where I was given the stuffed hide and mounted frame of the large grizzly bear, Clubfoot. I stood beside it, taking his measure as I would a horse.
    "I judged his height at shoulder to be four feet eight inches, twelve inches between the ears, eight inches between eyes, and eight feet from tip of nose to tail. His teeth were short and blunt from hard usage."
    Symbolic perhaps of the fate of all of his kind, the only remains of this magnificent grizzly now consists of the one claw still in the possession of the Grieve family. Perhaps we should consider as part of Clubfoot the quart measure of lead bullets in the possession of the Bean family which were recovered when he was skinned, souvenirs of his forty years up and down California.
George R. Schrader, "The Grizzly Bear of California," 1946 Yearbook, Siskiyou County Historical Society, pages 15-18


Siskiyou Hunter Tells New Version of Clubfoot Story
    MONTAGUE, Siskiyou Co., Sept. 11.--Joseph V. Hessig suggested today that the ghost of Clubfoot be laid. Clubfoot is the famed bear which no one has been able to find in London, England, or Paris, France, where he has been reported during the last year. He was killed in1890 near Hornbrook.
    Hessig is the county's mightiest bear hunter. He has been hunting them for 58 years with his own dogs, killed four last year and plans on a couple more this winter.
    Hessig's story follows:
    In the first place, the bear they are making the fuss over is not Clubfoot, but Reelfoot. Clubfoot ranged Butte Valley from the eastern edge of the Cascade Mountains into Modoc County. He had one foot taken off by a trap and was poisoned near the old Dorris Ranch in Butte Valley in the early 1890s.
Saw Steer Killed
    Charlie Lough was coming into the ranch one evening and heard a steer bawling up on a ridge. He went up and saw the immense bear had the steer by the nose and was beating it with his paws.
    The next morning Lough and others found the steer dead, with his shoulder and neck partly eaten. They filled the carcass with strychnine, and the next morning found Clubfoot dead. That was the end of the grizzly known as Clubfoot.
    Reelfoot, the grizzly mistakenly called Clubfoot, was a more intelligent animal. He ranged from Camp Creek, near Hornbrook, to the eastern edge of the Cascades but did not trespass on the real Clubfoot's territory.
Caught in Trap
    Russ Grieves of Hornbrook caught Reelfoot in a trap, probably in the 1870s. He left two of his toes in the trap, and George Grieves of Eureka, Humboldt County, has them yet. Reelfoot lost several teeth and damaged others trying to tear the trap off.
    Reelfoot was so bold he killed a milk cow on the old Varnum place once just a short distance from the corral. He seldom went back to a carcass the second time, which was why ranchers were unable to poison him.
    When William Wright and Purl Bean killed Reelfoot in 1890 they had him mounted and exhibited him in a wooden box with the sides let down. He changed hands several times.
    Finally Frank Pickard, Wright's father-in-law, owned him.
Tired of Bear
    Pickard, like previous private owners, became tired of the old bear because he brought in little money at 25 cents a look.
    The Academy of Science was then nearing completion in San Francisco. Newspapers devoted columns to its wonders, including a mastodon. Its staff scoured the country for big, stuffed animals. At this time Pickard sold Reelfoot for approximately $250.
    Hessig was attending school in San Francisco when the academy opened. He visited it and saw two grizzly bears, one of which he is positive was Reelfoot.
    The bear was in the same box with the sides let down he had seen before, but he had deteriorated badly.
    In 1906 the academy and all of its contents burned to the ground.
    Hessig feels sure that that was the end of the 2,000-pound, horse-killing grizzly correctly known as Reelfoot.
Sacramento Bee, September 11, 1950, page 18


Trap Which Caught Reelfoot, Famed Grizzly, Is Missing
    COPCO, Siskiyou Co., March 2.--The trap which cost Reelfoot, the scourge of the Siskiyous, two toes in 1870 is missing, and the owner is willing to pay a $25 reward for its return and will ask no questions.
    Reelfoot, sometimes known as Clubfoot, was a 2,000-pound grizzly bear which ranged from Hornbrook to the eastern edge of the Cascade Mountains, slaughtering settlers [sic], horses and cattle. Twenty years before he finally was shot by William A. Wright and Purl Bean in 1890 near Hornbrook, Reelfoot was trapped. He lost a few teeth and two toes freeing himself, but he did escape.
    George F. Wright, nephew of W. A., who inherited the trap, came here from the old Wright ranch on the Oregon line to announce the theft. He said that while the trap is one of the largest ever built for bears and is very rare, he prizes it principally as an historical memento and museum piece. The trap bears his brand, G-8-W, on the bottom. The brand is registered with the Oregon State Game Commission.
    Reelfoot got back into the news in 1949 and last year after servicemen returning from Paris and London reported they had seen the old grizzly's stuffed replica in museums. A search of both cities failed to substantiate the stories.
    Reelfoot, after his demise at the hands of Wright and Bean, was stuffed and exhibited in cities throughout the state. His earthly remains disappeared about the time of the San Francisco fire of 1906.
Sacramento Bee, March 2, 1951, page 23


One Giant Grizzly
    Gatherings of old-timers in Siskiyou County are getting fewer and far between, reports Alex J. Rosborough this week from his Yreka home. "But," he says, "when they do occur you can bet a good part of the conversation will turn to hunting and fishing as it was in the early days. Those were the days when steelhead and salmon were speared and smoked, or salted down for home consumption. And men armed with muzzle-loaders stalked the muletail bucks, ducks and geese and last, but by no means least, the bear. Siskiyou with its wooded mountains and beautiful valley lands was filled with deer, antelope, mountain sheep and elk, and its streams teemed with fish. All of which made it the natural habitat of the bear--black, brown and grizzly. King of all was the grizzly, feared alike by Indians, trappers, ranchers and miners. I recall a period in the early 1900s, when we were securing property and water rights to build the old Siskiyou Power Company's first plant on Fall Creek, we frequently traveled a wagon road that took us past the Grieves' place in a little flat on Jenny Creek. I got to know the family well as a result of these excursions. One of the boys, like myself, was interested in collecting Indian relics and was adept at not only locating specimens but was an expert in making obsidian (flint) arrow and spear heads. Like neighboring ranchers, the Grieves owned numerous head of cattle, sheep and some horses. And when the stock started to disappear the Grieve boys set out a large steel bear trap about a mile from their home. It wasn't long until they were rewarded with the roaring of a bear caught in the trap. They grabbed their guns and went out to shoot him, but before they got near enough the huge animal, with one great roar and effort, tore himself from the trap and made his escape in the thick brush. Examination of the trap revealed the bear had torn off and left behind, in the jaws of the trap, three claws and a part of his right foot. From that time on any stock killings made by this big fellow were easily recognized. He quickly became known as 'Club Foot.'"
A Bull and a Bear
    "Whenever a beef or other critter was killed, ranchers would invariably find the prints of 'Club Foot,'" Rosborough relates. "It was evident that he roamed a great expanse of territory, his clubfoot prints telling of visits all the way from the upper reaches of the Klamath River to the slopes facing the Pacific Ocean--a straight line distance of not less than 150 miles. He seemed to kill, eat and move on. Stockmen soon posted offers of a bounty for his kill. J. D. Williams, a sheepherder, told of witnessing a fierce fight to the finish between 'Club Foot' and a giant, enraged bull. It was in 1882. Williams, as usual, identified the bear by the prints in the battle arena after the fight was over. The bull was owned by David Horn, after whom the town of Hornbrook was named. The killer bear sneaked up on the band of cattle and singled out a nice young calf for his meal. The mother of the calf answered her young one's call for help and ran to its defense, only to be knocked dead by a smashing blow dealt by the bear. The big bull, apparently enraged at the audacity of the bear, charged with lowered head and hit the bear broadside. He knocked the big raider over all right, but the bear regained his feet and a terrific fight ensued. It ended only when the big grizzly got hold of the bear's nose and, swinging his great weight, gave a twist that broke the bull's neck."
He Meets His Masters
    "The snow had begun to melt in April, 1890," continues Rosborough, "when William A. Wright and Purl Bean, neighbors on Camp Creek, were out hunting for deer and ran onto the track of 'Club Foot,' the imprint of his half foot leaving no doubt as to his identity. The track was fresh, and the two hunters talked a short time on the advisability of 'nailing' him. Finally they decided to take up the track and follow the big beast, accepting the chance of making a kill. They followed his tracks for an hour before they caught sight of him slowly making his way through some open brush across the creek. Being well within range they opened fire. Double hit by the first two shots, the big bear whirled, spotted the attackers and with great roars charged the hunters. His ton of weight crashed the brush, and with snapping teeth he came across the creek into the face of two ball-spitting 50-70 Sharps rifles, handled by expert hunters. Both riflemen stood their ground and pumped lead into the weakening monster, hoping some bullet would find a vital spot. And one did. Wicked old 'Club Foot' fell dead almost at their feet."
Club Foot's Travels
    "Word that the giant, stock-killing grizzly had been killed went out, and every rancher from Klamath Lake to the Pacific Ocean who had suffered a stock loss in raids by the killer wanted to have a look at him. Many gathered to see 'Club Foot,' but no scales were available. However, many of the cattlemen, expert in approximating the weight of steers, declared his weight to be in the neighborhood of 2,000 ponds. He was mounted in Ashland, Oregon, and measurements made by A. E. Doney were as follows: From tip of nose to tail, eight feet; height at shoulder, four feet, eight inches; between the ears, 12 inches; between the eyes, eight inches. His teeth were short and blunt from hard usage. 'Club Foot' was then taken on travels up and down the West Coast for exhibit in towns and villages. Finally, in Portland, he was sold for $500. In 1892 he visited the Columbian Exposition in Chicago. Then his owner, a Dr. Jordan, took him for a trip to Europe, where they visited all the principal cities. Somewhere 'over there' Club Foot got lost. All that remains in Siskiyou County as a memory of the biggest of grizzlies is one claw in the possession of the Grieve family, and a quart measure of bullets, kept by the Bean family, which were recovered from the big bear's body when he was skinned. Most of the bullets were the silent witnesses of the many times he had not been killed."
Oakland Tribune, March 14, 1954, page 71


"Clubfoot" or "Reelfoot"
    A dead bear comes back to haunt Alex Rosborough this week as a result of the Yreka scribe's recent story about "Clubfoot," that seemingly bulletproof animal of more than half a century ago. Mrs. Almon Price of Martinez says his name wasn't "Clubfoot" but "Reelfoot" instead. "I'm convinced Mr. Rosborough quoted a little too rashly from memory, as we all do after many years," she writes. "The Purl Bean family lived near us on a ranch near Holland, Oregon, and as you can well imagine, our favorite pastime was having Mr. Bean tell us about the final death of old 'Reelfoot.' . . . The hunt and the end for old 'Reelfoot' came south of Ashland at Pilot Rock, which can be seen from the main highway now on top of the Siskiyou Mountains. My grandfather, Joseph Lane Sowell, took my mother and her two brothers, John and Frank, to see old 'Reelfoot' when he was on exhibit in Medford. . . . John was only 3 years old. He took one look, let out a yell and really took off for home. . . . The last time we saw 'Reelfoot' was in June, 1931. My grandfather had come to Martinez to visit, and his only wish was to go to the deYoung Museum in Golden Gate Park and see old 'Reelfoot' just once more. It was a wonderful day for him and brought back many wonderful memories. Soon after that the old bear was sent to Seattle for a celebration and they just sort of forgot to send him back. . . . My great-grandfather, John Harrison Sowell, was a guide on the plains for many years before he married and settled on Althouse Creek in Josephine County, Oregon. You can well imagine the wonderful stories cherished by all of us, stories of his many adventures and of his life among the Indians. The Bean girls and I have had many happy hours exchanging stories. Elsie Bean married my first sweetheart, David Shaffer, so you can see why the story of old 'Reelfoot' brought back a flood of memories. We have enjoyed thinking about the big grizzly once more."
Oakland Tribune, April 18, 1954, page 59


What's in a Name?
    "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet," writes Alex J. Rosborough of Yreka after reading a recent issue of The Knave in which Mrs. Almon Price of Martinez questioned his memory regarding "Clubfoot," giant Siskiyou County grizzly of some years ago. Mrs. Price said she remembered the big bear as "Reelfoot." "As Al Smith used to say, 'Let's look at the record,'" the Yreka scribe reports, "There was a time when old Clubfoot was referred to as 'Reelfoot' and even 'Reelfoot,' whatever that meant. But after he left three claws and part of his left front foot in the big steel trap, the name Clubfoot was universally applied. And when his stuffed self was shown about the country the show people advertised him as 'Clubfoot--that great grizzly from Siskiyou.' It was Pedro Smith, who lived on a ranch near Little Pilot, who went over and told Billy Wright that Clubfoot was in the neighborhood. The big bear, known by his club foot, killed and had eaten a calf near Smith's place. And it was Tom Shearer who while hunting deer took a shot at old Clubfoot with his muzzle-loader to put another shot in the old bear's hulking body, only to be immediately charged by the insulted grizzly. Shearer ran for his life down the mountain, the angry bear in hot pursuit. Shearer swung around a big tree and Clubfoot raced by to an empty trail on down the mountain while Tom ran back up the hill and escaped. Gordon Jacobs' father was building some barns below Cole's Springs, and being a great hunter, he would go up to the springs with his gun at a certain time of day, certain that he would find a deer to kill. While on this particular job he killed 20 deer. But one day he slipped up to the spring and was surprised at not finding any deer around. Instead he saw old Clubfoot taking a mud bath. Because he only had a muzzle-loader he took no chances on firing at the big beast, but later he checked the bear's tracks, and they proved old Clubfoot was the visitor."
He Roams Again
    "After old Clubfoot was 'stuffed,'" continues Rosborough, "A. E. Doney, the Fish and Game representative from this Siskiyou County section, went to Ashland and gave the huge bear a good measuring up. Those were the measurements I mentioned in the original Clubfoot story of last March 14. After that, old Clubfoot began his professional show life. He had been 'stuffed' at Ashland, Oregon, and it was a very poor job of mounting, so 'stuffed' is a very good word for the job. Finally, after being shown around various towns hereabout, he settled down for a time on the front porch of the store at Hornbrook. Everyone going that way always stopped to have a look at the old grizzly, so it was only natural that Clubfoot's fame spread far and near. His earlier name of Reelfoot or Reelfoot was already lost and forgotten by then. In the 1946 issue of the Siskiyou County Historical Society's yearbook, editor George R. Schrader wrote an interesting article about the old grizzly. He never mentioned the big fellow by any name other than Clubfoot. When I was in Chicago with the delegation that nominated Grover Cleveland for President in 1892, the Centennial Exposition was in progress there, and I went out to the exposition grounds for a visit. Our old friend Clubfoot was there ahead of me. He was on exhibition. It was later reported that a Dr. Jordan took Clubfoot to Europe for display. But I was in Europe in 1910 and visited museums in England and in France, and I never ran across Clubfoot."
Finis on Clubfoot
    "Along about 1926 or 1927 a personal friend of Gordon Jacobs told him of having seen old Clubfoot in the DeYoung Museum in San Francisco's Golden Gate Park. Because a search for the giant 'stuffed' bear had been going on for some time on two continents, Mr. Jacobs made it a point in 1929 to visit the DeYoung Museum and see Clubfoot once again. The bear was not there. Mr. Jacobs made it a point to hunt up the curator. They went around and looked at all the mounted bears on exhibit, but Clubfoot was not among them. Then the curator got out the museum records. Sure enough, the records showed Clubfoot was not there and had never been there. Even the big trap in which old Clubfoot lost three of his toes and part of his foot has disappeared. It was stolen some years ago, and although a substantial reward was offered for its return, like old Clubfoot it is lost to sight and memory dear."
Oakland Tribune, May 9, 1954, page 67


Tracking Clubfoot Again
    Rosborough also reports this week that the story of Clubfoot has now reached Europe. "The following letter has just been received by airmail from a friend also interested in finding Clubfoot, that greatest of all Siskiyou County grizzlies," he writes. The epistle from abroad states: "I found a guide in the British Museum that has seen him and believes Clubfoot is in the museum's basement somewhere. But to see him I will first have to make a weekday visit to the museum and see the man in charge of that section. I feel quite certain that the bear is among the thousands of items in possession of the museum. But they've advised me it will take a bit of searching, and I hope they will let me do the searching. When I'm positive the bear is there I will let you know," the correspondent declared.
Oakland Tribune, May 30, 1954, page 53


Clubfoot
    Clubfoot, California's most famous bear, has disappeared, but not so the trap that crippled him.
    Ernest J. Howell, 66, of 1530 66th Ave., disputes the report that the trap was stolen many years ago and never recovered.
    It has been in possession of his family for more than 60 years, Howell reports, and he dug the trap out of storage at San Luis Obispo to prove it.
    The trap was made by John Howell, grandfather of the Oakland man. He was a pioneer blacksmith who came to California in 1846, lived for a time in Siskiyou County, then settled at St. Helena, where he had the distinction of having a mountain named for him. Later he moved to San Luis Obispo.
    Howell forged the trap by hand, using steel from the tires of wagons that had crossed the plains. It has an 18-inch spread and two springs, so powerful a bar must be used to depress them in setting the trap.
    The giant grizzly that had slaughtered cattle and fought men all over the northern part of the state was caught in the trap but fought himself free. He left three claws and part of a front foot in the trap, and thereafter was known as Clubfoot.
    The bear was finally killed in April, 1890, by hunters. He weighed 2,000 pounds and measured eight feet from nose to tail. His height at the shoulders was 4 feet 8 inches. The distance between his ears was 12 inches, between his eyes 8 inches.
    Clubfoot was stuffed and for years was exhibited up and down the Coast. He was on display at the Columbian Exposition at Chicago in 1892, and even made a trip to Europe.
    Eventually he disappeared, and no one seems to know what happened to him.
    But the trap that gave him his name still exists. Howell had it on display at the recent centennial observance at St. Helena.
"Daily Knave," Oakland Tribune, November 12, 1954, page 29


Old Clubfoot
    Is Old Clubfoot, the grizzly bear that terrorized Northern California back in the 1880s, reposing in some nook of the Smithsonian Institution?
    That's a possibility, according to Dr. F. Leslie Herrick of Livermore.
    Herrick was interested in a recent item reporting that Ernest J. Howell, 1530 166th Ave., still has the trap that temporarily caught the bear. The bear broke loose, leaving a chunk of a front foot in the trap, and thereafter was known as Clubfoot.
    But Herrick thinks he may be able to solve the old mystery of what happened to Clubfoot after he was finally killed by hunters, stuffed and exhibited around the world. Oldtimers say all they know is that the bear disappeared.
    Herrick recalls that his grandparents, pioneers of Humboldt County, had a huge stuffed bear they called Clubfoot which was shown at the Columbian Exposition at Chicago in 1892 and eventually sold to the Smithsonian Institution. [This bear is visible in a photo of the Humboldt County exhibit, on page 29 here (and referred to in the index on page 179). It isn't the bear pictured above.]
    He isn't sure that it was the famous Clubfoot, but he thinks that's possible.
    Herrick was a rather small boy at the time, but he still recalls escapades with his grandmother's bear which was fitted with a bellows that would emit a roar, and had its jaws hinged so they could be opened by a pull on a string.
    He delighted in manipulating the bear to startle visitors. Herrick claims Clubfoot, with his help, frightened even more people after he was stuffed than when he was alive.
"Daily Knave," Oakland Tribune, November 22, 1954, page 29


More About Reel Foot
    To the Editor: Commenting on the letter of Bert Kissinger on Old Reel Foot, killed by Purl Bean:
    I met Purl Bean in 1926 and became well acquainted with him; we opened up the old Bolen placer mine as partners. He also had a mine two miles east of Bolen Lake, and I made a trip with him to it in March, 1927. At this time an old friend of Bean's, Jess Barnett, was operating a shooter on a high channel at the mouth of Grizzly Gulch. When Purl asked if he was taking out anything he pointed to the end of the sluice box at a quart fruit jar full of nuggets as large as the end of one's thumb, with a large nugget lying on top that would not go in the jar.
    We continued our trip up Grizzly to the top, walking over the tops of tall trees on the frozen snow to his cabin on the divide, just east of Bolen Lake, where he showed me pictures of Old Reel Foot and several newspaper articles. Purl said that a reward of $1,400 had been offered for the bear, of which he received $400.
    Bean was asked to take the bear to Chicago for the World's Fair; however, it was sent to San Francisco, where I had the pleasure of seeing the last big grizzly in the Ferry Building.
    Yes, if one met Old Reel Foot in the woods he would look like two tons instead of the 1800 that Purl said he weighed.
Elwood Hussey
Cave Junction, Ore.
Medford Mail Tribune, February 14, 1957, page 4


More on Old "Reel-Foot"
    To the Editor: I would like to add my knowledge to the history of Old "Reel Foot," the grizzly bear. I heard the story many times from my father, James B. Brown, and many other bear hunters. Old "Reel Foot" was caught in a bear trap, injured his foot, lost a couple of toes. His foot reeled sideways when he walked. Seven hunters surrounded him. He was shot at 36 times with 40x82 and 45x90 caliber Winchester rifles. They were closing in on him. He was headed toward a young man and his partner, 18 years of age. The bear turn his head to look at the other men, and was shot directly in the ear with a 45.90 slug. In 1893 my aunt, Josie Hurd, told me "Reel Foot" was at Corvallis, Ore. The bear weighed 1,800 pounds, was 48 inches high; his forehead was 18 inches across.
    William E. Brown
    21 Genessee St.
    Medford, Ore.
Medford Mail Tribune, February 15, 1957, page 4


LOOKING FOR BEAR
    I wouldn't believe this unless I'd talked to the people personally. But Siskiyou County--a piece of Northern California real estate as wild as you could wish--is still looking for a stuffed bear name of Clubfoot.
    If you are planning a trip to Europe, they would be mighty obliged if you could keep an eye out for him.
    Supposed to be in a museum, either in France or England.
    In a long and dashing life, Clubfoot was known as "the scourge of the Siskiyou."
    He was old enough that they said he stampeded Fremont's horses when the Pathfinder passed through en route to Southern Oregon.
    He was trapped on the Klamath by the Grieve brothers. Pulled his mangled paw free and thereafter was known as Clubfoot.
    His favorite dish was steak. And since he took it rare, right off ranch cattle, local ranchers were anxious to get him off the grocery list.
    In 1889, William A. Wright and a companion named Pearl Bean ran onto Clubfoot's tracks in the snow near Camp Creek, a few miles from Hornbrook, California.
    They opened up with 50-70 Sharps rifles. And Clubfoot passed to his reward in snarling defiance.
    He had been shot at so often that they shook a quart measure of old bullets of his remains.
    Clubfoot was skinned and stuffed in Ashland, Oregon. (His pelt measured eight feet from nose to tail.)
    He was exhibited up and down the coast. And in 1892, a Doctor Jordan bought him for $500 and exhibited him at the Chicago World's Fair--"10 cents to see the man-eating grizzly!"
    And there Clubfoot vanishes.
    Well, there is nothing like a bear hunt. The other day I called up Mr. Gordon Jacobs, a power of the Siskiyou County Historical Society.
    He said: "Right after the war, two fellows who were in the Army came home and said they saw Clubfoot--or anyway a stuffed bear supposed to be a California Grizzly.
    “They couldn't remember just where. One of them thought it was in a museum in Paris. And then Thomas McHenry, who lived near Hornbrook, he was sure he'd seen it in a London museum.
    "Said he remembered a card saying that the bear had weighed 1850 pounds and was killed near Hornbrook. That being his home, he would notice a card like that.
    "We got hold of Congressman Clair Engle--he wasn't Senator then. And he got us in touch with the embassies in France and England. We put some ads in some foreign papers that go to museums.
    "But we never got a line on Clubfoot.''
    Naturally, it would be a fine thing if someone would discover Clubfoot and send him back to the snowy Siskiyous.
    The California grizzly was wiped out by advancing civilization. He remains only on the California state flag.
    The only existing stuffed grizzly is Monarch, who was caught in a log trap near Los Angeles in 1889 and brought to San Francisco for publicity stunts. He was shown in Golden Gate Park. Old age caught up with him in 1911 and he is now displayed stuffed.
    The Siskiyou County people don't think Dr. Jordan would have tossed Clubfoot into a closet and forgot about him after the Chicago Fair.
    "That was a valuable bear," said Mr. Jacobs. "He paid $500 for him. And that was real money in those days."
    So if you are bound for Europe and you see a bear--.
"Stan Delaplane's Postcard," Humboldt Times, Eureka, California, October 26, 1963, page 6


Old Reelfoot--Scourge of the Siskiyous!
By Art Chipman
    A giant grizzly bear suddenly burst from nearby bushes into the unsuspecting herd of cattle, killing a calf standing beside its mother. Instinct brought the cow to the defense of her calf, but one mighty sweep of the bear's huge paw downed her. In an instant, the bull in the herd had lowered his head and rushed at the common enemy, but though he knocked the bear down, the grizzly, cat-like, was quickly on his feet. With fantastic speed the bull was killed, too, his backbone crushed from a vicious bite from the grizzly's powerful jaws. After making a leisurely meal of the calf, he wallowed for a few minutes in a nearby mudhole, then lumbered off into the mountains.
    It was the spring of 1882 and, from his vantage point in a tree some fifty yards away, J. D. Williams of Ashland, Oregon, watched with awe-filled eyes as the "Scourge of the Siskiyous" struck again. Williams was herding sheep near Bald Mountain, close to the Oregon-California border, when he saw Old Reelfoot approaching the herd of cattle in a nearby glen. Being a wise and prudent man, he quickly climbed the nearest tree, and became a horrified eyewitness to another of the famous old bear's bloody triumphs.
    Reelfoot (or Clubfoot as he was called by some people) was a giant whose amazing feats of strength, whose cunning and incredible slaughtering of livestock, made him a fearful legend in his time. For more than twenty years the wily killer roamed the mountains on the Oregon-California border. From as far east as Silver Lake and as far west as the Pilot Rock area near Ashland, reports came in about the cattle killed by the canny old veteran. Sometimes he would disappear for months, leaving the stockmen breathing sighs of relief, and with the hope that, at long last, he had died or left the area for good--for wherever he appeared, there was a bloody trail of dead livestock behind him. In his many years of eluding man, he had somehow learned it was unsafe to return to a kill, and consequently selected a new victim for every meal.
    By 1890, reward offers from local cattlemen totaled some $2,700 for his death. Major Barron, a cattleman near Ashland, who had suffered frequent and heavy losses, personally offered a $500 bounty. Considering the value of the dollar in 1890--the average cowboy or ranch hand earned only $30 or $40 per month in wages--this represented a rather enticing sum of money.
    Over the years, the reward had attracted hundreds of hunters, each eager to kill the mighty old monarch of the mountains. Experienced hunters and trappers from all over the West tried to shoot him, trap him or poison him, without success. They brought in packs of bear hounds for trailing, but each time he would either kill the dogs or elude them in the rugged mountainous area.
    One noted hunter and guide, George Cook, spent a great deal of time searching for Old Reelfoot, and eventually got one shot at him. When the tough old animal was killed, years later, the .38-55 slug was found flattened against the shoulder bone.
    Reelfoot was extremely leery of traps, probably from numerous encounters with them. In the 1870s, Bruce Grieve, a rancher and trapper, succeeded in capturing a huge female grizzly (Reelfoot's mate) in the vicinity of Skookum Gulch. He later--temporarily--caught a huge male grizzly by three toes on the bear's left front foot. These were severed in his escape from the trap, giving him a peculiar walk, hence the name of Reelfoot or Clubfoot. So, even though he had obviously been ravaging the area for many years and was already known by the vicious manner in which he killed full-grown cows and steers, it was only after losing the three toes, which gave his left front footprint an appearance of turning in, that he acquired a name and a tally was kept of his kills.
    On April 4, 1890, Billy Wright, a little but tough old pioneer rancher and frontiersman, was returning from Hornbrook, California, when he met Pedro Smith, a homesteader, who told him of Old Reelfoot's killing a cow along nearby Dry Creek. Off and on, over the
years, Wright had made numerous attempts to get the bear. He had tried hunting, trapping and poison, but all efforts had failed. He had even rigged up a baited gun trap, by using his old .50-70 Sharps carbine, which the bear had harmlessly set off by merely reaching around the tree, holding the gun, and tugging at the bait. The intelligence and cunning of the bear had overcome each of the rancher's efforts.
    On the way home, Wright stopped at the Bean ranch and invited seventeen-year-old Purl Bean to accompany him the following day in a hunt for the cattle-killing bear. Purl Bean had been raised in the mountains and, although young, was an experienced outdoorsman and a good hunting companion.
    That night they prepared their packs, loaded up on ammunition, and planned to meet the next morning at the Bean ranch for an extended trip through the mountains. The following morning Wright found three other hunters at the ranch, also anxious to participate in the hunt.
    On the morning of April 5, the five hunters carefully planned their strategy, determined to end, once and for all, the long. bloody career of Old Reelfoot. Two hunting parties were formed, three men going in one direction, while Wright and Bean went in another, with the understanding that if they picked up the trail they would contact the others.
    This part of Southern Oregon and Northern California is extremely rugged, with rocky canyons and steep hills. Much of the area was covered with heavy timber and brush, which offered easy concealment for an animal; it was a mighty difficult country for man or beast to travel. Considerable snow still lay on the north slopes.
    Within a short time, Wright and Bean discovered fresh tracks. Reporting their find to the three other hunters, the five men converged in their pursuit of Reelfoot. The tracks were followed for several miles before they caught a glimpse of the bear in the distance. One of the hunters had brought along his dogs and, despite the arguments of the others, turned them loose. The dogs immediately began the chase but, to the despair of the hunters, were soon lost from sight.
    For the next four days, the hunters and dogs kept after the bear but were unable to catch up with him again. Time after time he would outwit and elude the dogs. Finally, completely exhausted and discouraged, the three hunters persuaded Wright and Bean to give up and return home.
    Wright and Bean hadn't given up, however, and knowing approximately where the old grizzly was, restocked their supplies at the ranch and at dawn on April 10, with two dogs, began the hunt for the second time. Within a few hours they picked up the bear's trail. They climbed a little ridge some three miles south of Pilot Rock, near Wildcat Gulch in Siskiyou County, California, close to the Oregon border. On reaching the top, the object of their search unexpectedly came into view. Approximately 125 yards across a little gulch was Old Reelfoot.
    Aroused by the sounds of the approaching hunters, the bear lumbered up from his bed on a flattened woodrat's nest and headed in the opposite direction over the next little ridge. The men quickly raised their rifles and fired. Both bullets hit the bear and, although the wounds were not fatal, they would have made it quite painful for him to sit down for some time. The angry bear immediately turned around and charged.
    In the meantime, the two dogs had been released and were growling and snapping at the furious old giant as he rushed down the little hill toward the hunters. Shot after shot was fired as he roared toward them. It was kill or be killed and Wright's .56-46 repeating Spencer rifle and Bean's .44-40 Winchester '73 were being put to full use. Yet on he came, apparently oblivious to his wounds, down to the bottom of the little gulch, only a few yards from where the men stood. Wright and Bean were getting desperate, but, fortunately, at this point the dogs caught up with Old Reelfoot again and he stopped for a moment to make a few angry swipes at them. This opportune pause gave the men time to hurriedly cram more cartridges into their guns.
    The wounded bear, having backed off the dogs a bit, turned, and roaring with rage, tore his way through the bushes and up the side of the gulch to where the men stood. Billy Wright told young Purl that when his gun was empty again to run and he'd stay and fight it out. But the game young Bean had other ideas and said, "No, I came with you and I'll stay with you." "All right," Billy shouted, "you shoot for his heart and I'll shoot for his head."
    On came the grizzly, with the men pumping shot after shot at him. Suddenly, within fifteen yards of his tormentors, the giant old bear stopped and crumpled to the ground, dead at last. The days of his cattle killing were over.
    The two men returned to the Bean ranch, jubilant in their success where all others had failed for more than twenty years. Getting horses and a sled, they hauled the dead bear out of the mountains and down to the ranch. There it was skinned and cut up into pieces small enough for weighing on a steelyard scale, as there was none other in the area big enough. Old Reelfoot weighed over 1,800 pounds.
    The bear was mounted by J. Lomas, an amateur taxidermist, but it was not a very good job. The hide began to spoil and though another taxidermist tried to undo the damage, a good job of mounting was impossible.
    Old Reelfoot was placed on a wagon drawn by two mules, and hauled to nearby towns and villages in Oregon and California, where he was put on display at ten cents a person. Then in 1892 the famous old cattle-killer was sold for the princely sum of $500 to a Mr. Abbott, who showed the mounted giant throughout the United States and, it is rumored, even in Europe.
    Billy Wright returned to his ranch and cattle and Purl Bean to the Bean ranch, both to bask for the rest of their lives in their moment of glory. As to the $2,700 reward, only a portion of it was ever collected, reportedly around $1,700, which was still a lot of money in that day and time.
    No one knows what finally happened to Old Reelfoot. Returning servicemen from World War II reported they thought the bear was in a London museum. It is also rumored that he was sent to Seattle for the Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exposition in 1909 and never returned. Probably the most logical explanation is that he was on display in San Francisco and was destroyed in the great earthquake and fire of 1906.
    All that is now left of the "Scourge of the Siskiyous" are two giant 4½-inch claws in the Siskiyou County Museum in Yreka, California, a few pictures, and a series of exciting stories about the giant grizzly bear who ruled his domain for more than two decades, making man wait until he was old, with worn-down teeth and slowed with age before he could be conquered. Even then, it took ten bullets, including three in the head, to stop the tough old cattle-killer.
Frontier Times, August-September 1966, page 32


Killing One of the Last California Grizzlies
"Bullets meant nothing to Clubfoot. They took about a
quart jar full out of his smelly old carcass after his demise."
By EMILIE A. FRANK

    He was huge and he was gutsy. He traveled the trails and wagon roads at night, breaking into corrals and carrying off a calf or a pig. He learned to let down the bars at the gates, and if the rail fences were too high he would tear down a rail or two and crawl over. They called him Old Clubfoot.
    Old Clubfoot was also known in these parts as Old Slewfoot and Old Reelfoot, possibly to distinguish him from the other bears known as Clubfoot. It was apparently a common practice to call a maimed grizzly "Old Clubfoot," and this may be the reason why the same bear has at times appeared to have covered an enormous territory, although it is the natural habit of the grizzly to range over a large area. And too, it was not uncommon for a grizzly to be caught in a trap, although it was an uncommon trap that could hold a grizzly after catching him. The trap naturally resulted in a deformed foot for the bear, and his track was easily recognized thereafter. And that is why, wherever grizzly bears roamed, it was quite a common occurrence to call any bear "Clubfoot" who had lost toes in a trap. There was a bear known as Clubfoot in the Tehachapi Range and there was a female with a foot deformity who was captured alive and exhibited for a number of years at Golden Gate Park. And there was a Southern California grizzly, killed around 1890, who was also called Clubfoot. Siskiyou County's own silvertip grizzly, known as "Old Clubfoot," was a very hip bear who eluded capture for forty years, so cunning and trap-wise was he. This enormous bear terrorized the cattle country of Northern California and Southern Oregon. Though he roamed and pillaged the entire area for four decades, he was caught only once in a trap. He had a reputation which spread throughout California because he was a notorious killer and had successfully eluded all efforts to exterminate him. Though he was also called "Slewfoot" and "Reelfoot" (and certainly a few other unprintable names) he will be referred to herewith as Clubfoot in order to avoid confusion.
    This famous old outlaw created quite a little disturbance over a long period of time during the last century and was finally killed near Pilot Rock over by Hornbrook in 1890.
    Almost flagrantly he took what he wanted when he wanted it and continued to do so through the years until the day he died. Bullets meant nothing to Clubfoot. They took about a quart jar full out of his smelly old carcass after his demise.
    It is said that anyone who has ever skinned an old grizzly bear will realize how little bullets affected them--they could not penetrate the accumulated dirt, grease, mud and grime in his fur. One oldtimer said that he had taken bullets out of a grizzly's fur that had only battered against the animal's hide, and had been held in place through the years by about three-quarters of an inch of grease and mud. It should be pointed out, however, that the pioneers of that era had no high-powered guns. Some used old muzzle-loaders or .44 Winchesters and black powder. The gun that finally killed Clubfoot was a 56-46 Spencer with a barrel made by G. A. Nordheim, who lived in Yreka. The gun had a hair trigger, needing to be cocked every time. It had a muzzle-loading barrel with magazine in stock. It fired seven shots and weighed thirteen pounds.
    But let's go back to the days when Old Clubfoot was not a clubfoot--those days when he was a young silvertip grizzly not aware of the white man's traps. In those days he roamed free and wild and was known to have a mate (who was killed two years after he was). He measured nine feet in length and it is said he reached up 12 feet when standing on his hind feet. His head, from the tip of his nose to the top of his head, measured 22 inches. He measured 14 inches between the ears. He weighed almost 2,000 pounds. So anyone can see that this was no ordinary grizzly.
    It should be stated here that the grizzly was not so named on account of its ferocious disposition, but rather because of its gray coat. The silvertipped coat, humped shoulders, and the long, nearly straight claws on its forefoot are peculiarities of its particular race.
    Actually, the grizzly is basically a friendly creature in captivity. It will, in a playful gesture, probably break a man's arm or crush his back with a slap. But it does not mean any harm--it just does not realize the frailty of the human body.
    The grizzly was, by reason of its giant strength and courage, the king of beasts in western North America. It openly took what it wanted and none dared question its right. Both the Indian and the white settlers stepped aside when it loped along the trails. Despite its great size and lumbering gait, the grizzly was swift in action and could travel at the rate of a good horse. But that was before the use of repeating rifles. With the introduction of modern firearms the grizzly recognized defeat and has taught its cubs to shun the highways of civilization and seek safety in flight when the hated scent of man flows down the breeze.
    Bears had ways of inadvertently letting the settlers know they were around. Of course they leave enormous tracks, but they also, when they come out in the spring, stand up on their hind feet and bite the cedar trees.
    One day a man by the name of Bruce Grieve noticed the tracks and stripped cedars. He set a trap which he had fastened to a drag, or toggle (which was a black oak log about eight inches in diameter and 10 or 12 feet long) with the trap chain fastened in the middle so that it would catch on the brush and trees as the bear passed through.
    That is exactly what happened. The young grizzly who was to be known as Clubfoot was passing by on a trail that had a large clump of brush on each side and which had grown together over the top. When the toggle caught on the brush he tried to climb back up over the top of the brush. The trap became so tight that he was forced to twist and pull in an effort to free himself, thereby severing part of his foot, several toes and three of his claws. (The bear trap weighed 42 pounds, and was about four feet long.)
    His deformed stump of a foot was to forever give away his presence, and his rage against man was never to subside. He would never forget.
    Normally, little credit was given to a bear for instinct. The grizzly bear, particularly, was considered to be stupid, and bear-baiting was a favorite sport of the vaqueros of early-day California. The grizzly, due to his size, was often clumsy and was easily roped from horseback by two vaqueros--then stretched out with a rope on a forepaw and rope on a hind leg. It seems incredible that such inhumaneness existed, but after they had the bear secured, a wild bull of the range was then captured and the two were tied together to fight it out, with the spectators enormously relishing the roars, the blood and the rage of the unfortunate animals.
    But they were mistaken in their belief that the grizzly was stupid. Indeed, there are those who say that the grizzly was smarter than the coyote even, who is noted for his avoidance of man-set traps.
    After once being caught, Clubfoot was never caught in a trap again. But he didn't stay away from traps. Instead, he learned to rob the trap and get away. In setting bear traps, it was the custom to hang a piece of meat six or eight feet up on a large tree, or suspend it from a limb, leaving the trap set beneath. After his first dreadful experience, Clubfoot learned to climb the tree from the opposite side, reach out and secure the meat, have his feast, then amble away unharmed.
    As the years went by, innumerable traps had been set to no avail and the rewards offered by the cattlemen for his destruction were growing each year. But through four decades he continued to make depredations on the stock until that April day in 1890 when two hunters by the name of Billy Wright and Purl Bean noticed Old Clubfoot lying in the sun by Pilot Rock.
    It seems entirely fitting that the likes of Billy Wright and Old Clubfoot would meet up some day. Billy was born in 1849 and crossed the plains in a covered wagon. He settled in Siskiyou County on Camp Creek in 1879, where he raised cattle.
    Billy Wright saw many grizzly bears in those days. It is recorded that he saw seven grizzlies in one group on Cold Spring Flat. Another time he had a narrow escape when the horse he was riding was attacked by a huge grizzly. The monstrous animal pulled a lot of hair from the horse's tail, and Bill's saddle was about to come off. Billy grabbed his 50-70 Sharps carbine from his saddle horn, turned around, stuck the muzzle of the gun in the bear's mouth and pulled the trigger just as the bear had reared up on the horse's rump. Billy, the bear and the saddle were all piled up in a heap on the ground afterwards, but Billy was alive and the bear was dead.
    Then there was the time that he and two friends were riding on good, fast saddle horses. They slowed down when they came upon a grizzly mother with two very small cubs. One of Billy's friends wanted to capture one of the cubs and take it home, so they decided to chase the mother away, or frighten her so she would leave. The mother grizzly charged, grabbing a mouthful of hair out of the horse's tail while they were trying to get away. Luckily, they made a hairpin turn on the hill--which again, because of the grizzly's size and awkwardness, she couldn't make. But she convinced them that they didn't want one of her cubs for a pet.
    On another day Billy Wright was walking along a frail-looking for his saddle horses. It was a frosty cold morning and the trail led through heavy brush. He had been looking to the side, scanning the area for the missing horses when he looked directly in front of him and froze in his tracks--but not because of the temperature. He was face to face with a grizzly, so close that the steam from its mouth permeated his face. The bear reared up on his hind feet, clacked his jaws together a few times, got down on his four legs, turned around and walked away, leaving behind a vastly relieved Billy, because he had not brought along his gun that morning.
    So you could say that William A. Wright had had a few experiences with grizzly bears. And it was certain that he wanted to claim the honor of killing the notorious Old Clubfoot.
    Clubfoot still reigned supreme among the wildlife of Siskiyou County. Gifted with enormous strength, wonderful agility and almost human instinct, he had so far eluded all attempts to capture him. Just once, almost forty years earlier, he had gotten caught in a trap. Besides the lesson he had learned about traps that day, he had also learned another very important lesson. He would never again return to his kill for a second meal. (The night before he was caught in the trap, he had killed a two-year-old heifer belonging to Grieve. The trap in which he was caught had been set at the scene of the kill and Clubfoot had returned for a second feast. After the excruciating pain caused by the trap, he would never again return to his kill for another meal, no matter how hungry he was.)
    Down through the years many stories were told of his cunning and prowess. There were deadly conflicts between Old Clubfoot and his would-be slayers, human or otherwise.
    One of his mightiest battles involved a bull. In the spring of 1882 a sheepherder by the name of J. D. Williams viewed this great battle from the top of a tree about 50 yards away (he had left his gun in camp). Below him, in the glade, cattle were placidly feeding, led by a big bull. Old Clubfoot, deciding he needed some nourishment for his 2,000-pound frame, was hulking stealthily toward them. He suddenly made a charge for a calf standing by its mother's side. Naturally she attempted to defend her young, but with one powerful stroke of Clubfoot's paw, she was brushed bleeding aside. Then the bull charged the grizzly and so enraged was he at this interloper that Clubfoot was knocked into the brush. Undaunted, Clubfoot charged again and again, at last seizing the bull by the nose and then, with a powerful twist, broke his neck. Triumphant, he inspected his kill, ambled over to the nearby spring for a drink and a leisurely swim--and returned to the calf he sought in the beginning, ate his fill and shuffled off.
    The terrified sheepherder remained in the tree until nightfall in case Clubfoot had caught his scent and might come back. But how was he to know that Clubfoot never returned to the scene of the kill.
    Following this terrible slaughter, the stockmen of Hornbrook and other areas offered more rewards for the capture of Old Clubfoot, dead or alive.
    Clubfoot must have realized the heat was on because he left the Hornbrook area and turned up in Scott Valley. A farmer named Jo Doll drove into town from French Creek with his team and wagon spreading the word that a giant bear had killed one of his cows near his farm. He asked for men to go back and hunt the grizzly and five men volunteered, each armed with a rifle, one of which was a Spencer carbine breech loader owned by William Kimball.
    They went to a designated oak tree nearby the farm. Four were up the tree when one of them said, "There he is, get those guns up here!" The man on the ground handed up the Spencer carbine (loaded) muzzle first. In the rush the hammer caught under a limb, exploded the gun, and the bullet passed through the thigh of Jim Cuddy--which ended the hunt and Clubfoot disappeared out of sight.
    When all else failed, an attempt was made to kill the grizzly monarch by means of a set gun. His tracks were found on a dim trail which led through tall firs and underbrush, and an old trapper decided he would outwit this ruthless killer by means of a set gun. Choosing a point where the trail passed between two large trees, he placed a loaded gun pointing across the trail, attached a strong string to the trigger, then placed a tempting morsel of meat as bait at the other end of the string. Smugly he took his position in a nearby tree where he would spend the night and wait for Clubfoot.
    Along about daylight he saw a massive form moving in the shadows of the trail. Clubfoot was approaching. Now he scents the tempting bait. Instantly suspicious, he stops, rears aloft and keenly scents the air. His keen nostrils catch a human scent and his cunning comes once more into play. Cautiously moving toward the bait, he approaches the tree nearest, reaches around the tree with his paw, clutches the bait and drags it toward him. Then the trigger falls. There is a loud report, and the rifle's slugs are buried in the tree trunk. With a mighty roar, Old Clubfoot rushed off toward his den and the amazed trapper is left behind high in the tree shaking his head unbelievingly.
    At another time a number of sheep near Pilot Rock were killed, and worse yet, they were not killed for food, as their carcasses were still intact. It was obvious that the old grizzly had acquired a lust of killing. So a party of hunters was formed, with the best hounds in the country, in an effort to once and for all rid the locality of this killer bear.
    The trail started near Pilot Rock, led across the upper end of the Rogue River Valley, through what is known as the Dead Indian country, then went on along the shores of Lake of the Woods. They had only his unmistakable clubbed-foot impression to guide them, for they did not once see him. After continuing the hunt to the shores of Crater Lake, they gave up and started homeward.
    What they didn't know was that Clubfoot was now following them, and that night, while they camped, in what seemed to be utter contempt, he killed a young steer within a mile of their camp. He then vanished into the forest, much to the chagrin of the hunting party (when they saw the kill next morning).
    Old Clubfoot's days were numbered but he didn't know it. He was getting a little too sure of himself a little too careless in his old age. Many more incidents could be told in the life of Clubfoot--chance encounters by stockmen and sheepmen, most of whom were tremendously awed by the gigantic size, the fearlessness and cunning of this greatest of all grizzly. Ironically, his end came near his very favorite haunt in the vicinity of Pilot Rock.
    There are several versions of Old Clubfoot's last day on earth. Both the men who were responsible for his death are dead now. But it is well-known that Billy Wright and Purl Bean killed Old Clubfoot. Billy was a grown man but Purl was not yet seventeen years old.
    But they didn't get Clubfoot the first time out, as evidenced from an article published in the Yreka Journal and dated April 2nd, 1890:
    "William Wright and a son of Mr. Bean had an exciting chase after a huge grizzly up among the great snow banks of the Siskiyous recently. They were looking for stock and found the track of the bear, and concluding that it was old "Clubfoot" himself, thought the present a good season of the year in which to capture his hide and scalp and rid the range of his depredations. They came upon the bear somewhere in the region of Bald Mountain and gave him a good dose of lead to begin with, but didn't seem to damage him much and he started off on a long trip across the country, with the men after him.
    "They had snowshoes and the bear hadn't and as he was compelled to plow his way along with the snow up to his throat much of the time, they had the advantage of him and were sure they would wind up his career. But old Clubfoot had fate on his side, and the snowshoes of the hunters soon went back on them and the bear made his escape, taking with him, however, eight rifle balls deposited in his thievish hulk. He was in good flesh and as strong as a grizzly can get, or he would never have escaped. The reason of his good condition was found in the discovery that his headquarters were in the midst of the carcasses of some forty horses that had been caught in the deep snow and perished during the winter…."
    Then a short 14 days later, in the same Yreka Journal, dated April 16th, 1890, was printed the following:
    "Billy Wright and a boy named Bean killed the celebrated grizzly 'Clubfoot' one day last week, about seven miles from here. Wright and Bean found his track at 9 a.m. and followed it until noon when they located him in a thicket of scrub oak near Diehl Springs.
    "Rocks were rolled down the hill and the bear came out. Both fired at the same time and the grizzly fell, but immediately got up again and started for the boys. He got within 30 or 40 feet of them and dropped dead. Ten shots were fired and all were found in his body, two having passed through his heart. The boys skinned him carefully, and intend having him stuffed for exhibition. He has been systematically hunted for many years, and cattlemen consider this a stroke of good luck, that he has been killed at last…."
    But the newspaper didn't really tell it the way it was. Gordon Jacobs, former Siskiyou County supervisor, tells the story as he heard it:
    "Pedro Smith said he had been to town. It was in the spring, and coming back from town he saw where a cow had been killed on Dry Creek. He saw bear tracks. He went home, got on his saddle horse and went to tell Billy Wright that it was Clubfoot. Billy and Purl tracked him that afternoon and the next morning caught him in the thicket in the snow and killed him. Pedro Smith claimed the glory of putting them onto the track.
    They saw the bear and after they shot it, it charged them. The bear was above them on the hill quite aways from the creek and they were close to the creek on the opposite side. Clubfoot was going away from them when they shot the first time. Billy shot him and he charged. They poured lead into him and he kept charging. The bear finally dropped right at their feet. They hit the bear ten times, but only one bullet, the first one shot by Billy when the bear was going the opposite way, took effect. This is the shot that killed him. They say that Purl Bean got scared and wanted to climb a tree. This occurred in Wild Cat or Slide Creek…."
    Mrs. Purl Bean, who no doubt heard the story many times while her husband was alive, tells the story in her own words:
    "The bear was killed on April 10th, 1890. Purl Bean and Bill Wright with a third party who had dogs were hunting in the vicinity of Pilot Rock. The dogs were running a wildcat when Old Clubfoot was seen lying in the sun at the head of Camp Creek. An attempt was made to get the dogs started after the bear, but the bear got away. This was in the morning.
    "They all went to their respective homes for lunch. Purl Bean left Billy Wright at his place, telling Bill that he was going to go home, take a bath, eat lunch and go out again after the bear. Bill Wright tried to dissuade him, but Purl insisted that he would go out again. Bill Wright then told Purl that if he finally decided to go out, to stop at his place on the way and he would go with him.
    "Purl did come along in the middle of the afternoon and woke Billy up. They went back up toward Pilot Rock and found fresh tracks. They had stopped to rest and were sitting down when a dark spot on the snow over across the creek suddenly stood up and sniffed. It was Old Clubfoot. The bear started down the hill toward them through the snow, breaking his way through the mountain scrub oak. Bill Wright handed the gun to Purl to do the shooting. 'Fire at his nose or the spot under his neck,' he instructed Purl.
    "Purl continued to fire at the bear, but seemed unsuccessful in getting in a dead shot, which was not surprising considering the caliber of the gun used and the size of the animal. The bear crossed the creek and continued coming toward them. Bill Wright warned Purl to stand still until the bear came within 30 feet of the two hunters and fell dead. Bill warned Purl not to go near the bear, who was lying in the deep snow, until they were sure he was dead."
    Mrs. Bean added that although there had been a large standing reward for this notorious animal, now that the brute was dead, the cattlemen began to hedge. Only one cattleman came through. He had pledged $300 for the killing of Old Clubfoot and he paid. The others all backed down.
    Finally, a man by the name of A. E. Doney wrote to present still another version of the killing of Clubfoot. He claims to have talked with Billy Wright shortly before his death, and the following is Billy's story:
    "I found the tracks of a large bear, and the carcass of one of my large steers on a little flat eight miles up Camp Creek. That steer was killed before it could get on his feet to run. I got Purl Bean to go with me, both armed with rifles and riding good horses. We followed a trail up the creek. We saw the bear on the opposite side of the creek. Turning back a short distance, we tied the horses, then walked ahead to a place where we were in shooting distance. We began firing. The bear came toward us, but we continued shooting until he fell not far from where we stood.
    "We put eight bullets into his breast, all ranged back, each vital, but Clubfoot did not slow up but kept coming."
    Clubfoot was dead. The battle to keep living and the constant foraging for food to maintain his mighty body was over. His forty-year reign was suddenly ended, but his legend will live forever in the vast territory he roamed, high in the mountains of Northern California.
    But wait. It wasn't all over for Clubfoot.
    There was great excitement and interest when the old monarch of the forests was finally killed. So much so that Clubfoot's great form was mounted. From the Yreka Journal, dated May 28, 1890, came the following article:
    "Your correspondent visited on Tuesday last the residence of Mr. Wright, one of the slayers of 'Old Clubfoot' and witnessed Mr. J. Lomas' arrangements for stuffing and mounting the monster. This was undoubtedly the King of the Grizzlies for this part of the world. Mr. Lomas thinks he could not have weighed less than 2,000 pounds when killed. Some of the fineness of a front view of his countenance is lost, from the fact that his tusks or canine teeth are worn off to not more than one-half inch in length. But what he lacks in teeth he makes up in claws, which are simply immense. On one foot only two claws are left. He will measure nine feet in length and probably could reach up to 12 feet when standing on his hind feet…."
    Old Clubfoot went on the road with Billy Wright and Purl Bean, and drew outstanding crowds wherever he appeared. In 1893 he was exhibited at the Columbian Exposition in Chicago. The exhibit consisted of a mound of rocks, with patches of real moss, genuine ferns and native shrubbery over a large cave. Standing at the cave entrance was Old Clubfoot. The huge grizzly was still being looked upon with awe and the exhibit was an outstanding success.
    After that Purl sold out his interest to Bill Wright for $300. Billy and Clubfoot made the small-town circuit in a tent and appeared in many places in the West.
    There are conflicting stories about what happened to him after that, and there is a question as to his final disappearance. Some say that Clubfoot was purchased by the Native Sons of the Golden West to be displayed in the lobby of their headquarters in San Francisco--and that he was destroyed at the time of the San Francisco earthquake and fire.
    However, there were also rumors that Old Clubfoot had been seen in San Francisco after the earthquake. He was in a museum known as "Jordan's Museum of Anatomy" which was operating as late as 1914.
    Then a Siskiyou County resident was sent a newspaper clipping saying a doctor took Clubfoot to Europe and had made a great deal of money exhibiting him in various countries.
    It has been 83 years since Old Clubfoot met his death near his den at Pilot Rock, and it is possible that they are still spinning tales about him over in Hornbrook. It is also possible that the King of the Grizzlies is still on display in some public or commercial museum somewhere in the world. Somewhere, indeed, Old Clubfoot might still be attracting the attention that he did in his forty years of prowling his kingdom in Northern California--attention that only a silvertip grizzly weighing a ton could command.
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    (The files of the late George R. Schrader were used in the research of this famous bear story, and I would like to thank Mrs. George Schrader of Costa Mesa and the United States Forest Service for allowing access to the files.)
Pacific Wilderness Journal, February-March 1974, pages 12-16




Last revised August 24, 2023