All the bears I’d ever met lit out as soon as they discovered me, and I saw no rea­son to expect trouble with this pair. ⁠ ⁠ But almost instantly they went out of sight, and next thing I knew one was com­ing headlong at me through the thicket. I wasn’t carrying a rifle, or even a hunting knife. I’d gone light, my only purpose being to pack the 80-pound green moose hide into camp. There was only one thing to do. I jumped for a low branch of the birch and started up hand over hand. But before I’d climbed my own height the grizzly broke out of the brush and came swarming at me. He didn’t fool around. He sank his teeth into the back of my right leg just above the knee and pulled me down with one savage yank. I landed on my back, and we tussled for a few seconds. I wound up in a sitting position, with the bear’s left front leg across both of mine, pinning me to the ground.⁠ ⁠ This story, “Day of Terror,” appeared in the June 1957 issue of Outdoor Life.⁠ ⁠ Tap the link in profile for the ful...