Where Hunting Happens, Conservation Happens™
Before we dive into the details of how this enormous grizzly bear met its demise, we should point out that many facts in this story are blurry. What follows is a compilation of newspaper and magazine articles, blog posts, and personal narratives that all end with one live caretaker and one dead bear. We’ve done our best to highlight the facts and note conjecture.
In the 1960s, Marguerite McDonald and her husband Jack were year-round caretakers for the Silver Tip. In 1964, Jack took the long trip from the ranch to Gardiner for supplies. Marguerite stayed behind with just the dogs for company. One night, a bear came onto the porch and swiped a slab of bacon that was stored in a screened box. As a public safety notice, we want to note that storing bacon on a porch in bear country is a bad idea. Some accounts of the story say the grizzly came knocking on the porch in spring. Other accounts say fall. Either way, the bear got the bacon and left.
Marguerite assumed correctly that the bear would return the following night. She called Jack in Gardiner, and he told her how to load the Model 70 Winchester .30-06. The facts get murky again, but all accounts are hair-raising. An article about the encounter appeared in a 1967 issue of Outdoor Life written by Virgil W. Binkley, who had met Marguerite and heard her tale. Binkley wrote that Marguerite stayed in a different cabin the night after the bear swiped the bacon off her porch. She heard the bear return to look for another easy meal. She tried yelling at the bear to scare it away, but it showed no intention of leaving. As it turned toward her, Marguerite shot the bear once in the chest. It then ran past her at a distance of five feet; other accounts say it brushed past her on its way to the safety of a thicket.
Another, even more entertaining account was described by Vern Waples, a Montana game warden who heard the story from Jack and Marguerite years after he’d retired. He said it was during the fall when Marguerite first heard knocking at the cabin door. When the bear returned the next night, Marguerite attempted to scare it away by banging on an old washtub. Undeterred, the bruin smashed in one cabin door and made its way to another door, which it also broke down. That’s when Marguerite shot it, and it died right there in the doorway. Worried there might be other bears around, she stayed up that night, rifle in hand, waiting for other visitors. “I tell you, she was a tough woman,” Waples said. “A nice big woman. She could wrestle that bear if she hadn’t had a rifle.”
According to Waples’s account, Jack returned two days later, pulling up in a wagon full of supplies. He yelled out to Marguerite for help unloading, and when he came inside with an armload of groceries, he tripped and landed on top of the bear’s carcass still in the doorway. Waples said Jack came running out, yelling that a bear was in the house. Marguerite calmly said she knew about the bear.
“Marguerite! You don’t understand me! There’s a bear in the house,” Jack replied.
“I know there’s a bear in the house, you goddamn fool!” she replied. “Who do you suppose shot him?”
Because all those involved in this story have long passed, take these quotes with a grain of salt. Here is what we do know. This bear’s skull measured 15-8/16 inches long by 8-11/16 inches wide, totaling 24-3/16 points. Jack estimated that the bear weighed 850 pounds, and its hind feet were 12 inches long from heel to toe. It currently ranks as the fifth-largest grizzly from Montana and 792 overall. Grizzly bears were federally listed as threatened under the Endangered Species Act in 1975 and remain so today. There is no hunting of grizzlies allowed in the Lower 48, where nearly 2,000 grizzlies are estimated to roam.
After 20 years, Jack and Marguerite left the relative remoteness of the Silver Tip and worked in Pryor, Montana. They had three children and nine grandchildren. Jack drove a bus, and Marguerite was a school cook. Marguerite died in Livingston, Montana, in 1989, at 75. Jack died in 1994 at the age of 83.
"The wildlife and its habitat cannot speak. So we must and we will."
-Theodore Roosevelt