1860-62 | The Arctic
Polar bear (Ursus maritimus) stone throwing
Only a few decades have passed since scientists realised that wild animals use tools. Local people living with those animals have usually known for much longer. It should not surprise us, then, that some earlier reports based on local lore have yet to be fully studied, leaving them on the border of fact and myth. One of these uncertain claims has a particular stark violence to it: polar bears throwing blocks of ice or rocks to kill sea mammals.
The northern arctic region has presented its own legendary challenge to explorers over the past centuries. The area above 70° north was actually inhabited by people tens of thousands of years ago in Siberia, seen for example at the Yana mammoth-hunting site. But European sailors of the 18th and 19th century had no knowledge of how late they were to the party, and the race both to the north pole and to discover a ‘northwest passage’ linking the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans was intense.
One of those seeking both adventure and fame was Charles Hall. In the 1850s, Hall became fixated on the case of the lost polar explorer Sir John Franklin, who had disappeared in 1845 along with his two ships, HMS Terror and HMS Erebus. Hall set out for the north in May 1860 aboard a whaling ship, with his motives clearly described in his 1865 report of that journey:
it seemed to me as if I had been called, if I may so speak, to try and do the work. My heart felt sore at the thought of so great a mystery in connexion with any of our fellow-creatures…what was I to do? give it up?
As part of his plan, Hall decided to live with local people, whom he referred to as Innuit. While he failed to find Franklin or his ships—the Erebus and Terror were finally re-discovered in 2014 and 2016—he did collect a large amount of local knowledge and folklore from his companions. Among those tales was that of the tool-using wild polar bear.
Polar projectiles
The following is another extract from Hall’s 1865 book, Life with the Esquimaux, as related to him by his Innuit companions:
In August, every fine day, the walrus makes its way to the shore, draws his huge body up upon the rocks, and basks in the sun. If this happen near the base of a cliff, the ever-watchful bear takes advantage of the circumstance to attack this formidable game in this way : The bear mounts the cliff, and throws down upon the animal's head a large rock, calculating the distance and the curve with astonishing accuracy, and thus crushing the thick bullet-proof skull.
If the walrus is not instantly killed—simply stunned—the bear rushes down to it, seizes the rock, and hammers away at the head till the skull is broken. A fat feast follows.
The tale is accompanied by the engraving at the top of this post, based on Halls’ sketch of his informants’ account rather than any first-hand knowledge of the behaviour.
Despite 150 years of further polar exploration, neither the polar bear’s long-range attack nor its skull-crushing sequel has been captured on film. However, studying polar bear activity is inherently dangerous, and close-range observations of natural behaviour almost impossible. In addition, the majority of polar bear hunts are on seals—especially ringed seals (Pusa hispida), their preferred prey—and conducted as a ‘still-hunt’, in which the bear typically lies motionless for extended periods ahead of an ambush.
If polar bear skull-crushing does occur, then it is certainly an infrequent phenomenon. But it cannot be ruled out. Polar bears have been recorded killing walruses on rare occasions, including by attacking their heads (albeit with claws, not rocks). And in 1972 researcher H.P.L. Kiliaan and his colleagues found a 20kg ice block about 80cm long, detached from nearby freshwater ice and lying next to a seal hole surrounded by bear prints. The bear and its cubs had only recently departed, but it was not clear if the ice was used to attack a seal, break into the ground, or just broken off in anger or play:
For now, therefore, the polar tale of death from above remains one with oral evidence only. But there is no reason to dispute that the original 19th century account may have had a kernel of truth, and polar bears daily face the fact that they can only rarely get close to their prey without it fleeing—any advantage given by a thrown object towards dangerous prey would be welcomed. In some places, the danger of standing beneath a cliff may come less from falling rocks, and more from falling walruses.
Of course, the opportunity to observe any ‘natural’ behaviour in wild polar bears is rapidly ending. As arctic ice shrinks each year, the hunting grounds of the largest terrestrial carnivore go with it. The byproducts of human technological complexity are a far greater danger to the bears than they’ve ever been to an unsuspecting walrus.
Further reading. If you want to know more about nineteenth century polar exploration and the Franklin expedition, Michael Palin’s Erebus: The Story of a Ship is well worth your time.
Sources: Hall, C.F. (1865) Life with the Esquimaux: A Narrative of Arctic Experience in Search of Sir John Franklin’s Expedition. London, Samson Low, Son and Marston. || Nikolskiy, P. & V. Pitulko (2013) Evidence from the Yana Palaeolithic site, Arctic Siberia, yields clues to the riddle of mammoth hunting. Journal of Archaeological Science 40: 4189-4197. || Royal Museums Greenwich, HMS Erebus and Terror https://www.rmg.co.uk/discover/explore/hms-erebus-and-terror [accessed November 2020] || Stirling, I (1974) Midsummer observations on the behavior of wild polar bears. Canafian Journal of Zoology 52: 1191-1198. || Kiliaan, H. & I. Stirling (1978) Observations on Overwintering Walruses in the Eastern Canadian High Arctic. Journal of Mammalogy 59: 197–200. || Kiliaan, H. (1974) The possible use of tools by polar bears to obtain their food. Arbok 177-178.
Main image credit: Hall (1865) 'Bear killing walrus’, p. 535 || Third image credit: Kiliaan (1974)