6 Most DISTURBING Times Animals Got Revenge on Hunters…

In February 2018, under cover of darkness, a trio of poachers made their way across the South African border from Mosamb beek. Their destination was one of the private game reserves along the edge of the infamous Krueger National Park. It was pitch black and they tripped and stumbled through the undergrowth as they made their way towards the wilderness.

 They didn’t use any form of light as they wanted to go unnoticed. But they had made this journey before. They knew the way. Living in the remote village of Mudza in the Meseniri area, a lot of the people lived a poor existence. 3/4 of the population is illiterate, but most survive through farming. Fields of corn, cassava, cowpi, peanut, sweet potato, and rice provide a meager income for families and food on the table.

 Houses are set amongst Mosamb beek’s sandy soils and surrounded by agricultural land. Only 4% of the houses in the region have access to electricity with little in the way of future prospects. 50-year-old David Baloy was no stranger to this temptation and along with two others tked into South Africa on February 9th, 2018.

 They sneaked into the Umbabat Game Reserve just south of the Olphants River that flows through Krueger National Park and into Mosmb beek. They carried little with them, only a handful of butchery tools and two 456 Winchester hunting rifles. They were on the lookout for big game. These weapons could take down the likes of elephant, rhino, and lion.

 The illegal trade in big cat products, rhino horn and elephant tusks are huge commodities in China and the Far East. They can fetch thousands of dollars. And although the poachers themselves only see a small fraction of that price, it can make a difference to their livelihoods. They rely on this income to feed their families.

 Rhino horn is more valuable than gold on the black market. Poachers risk life and limb poaching prized animals with poaching patrols stepping up across South Africa and many other African nations. Poachers can catch a bullet from armed rangers. In neighboring Eswatini, they have a shoot tokill policy when it comes to poachers, but sometimes it’s the animals themselves that poachers are most in danger from.

 Usually, poachers hunt for their game during a full moon. This helps them to see better and means that they don’t need to use a flashlight which can be picked up by rangers on patrols. They typically hunt in threes. One will shoot the animal. The other will cut off the body part they are after and the third will keep watch. Nobody knows for sure which animals David and his two companions were after.

But when they crossed into the private game reserve that night, only two of them would make it back out alive. Stealthily, they stalked through the bush. Their arms were scraped by the long acacia thorns protruding from the trees. Their footsteps were quiet upon the dusty, dry earth. Their hearts beat quickly as the adrenaline of the nighttime hunt began to kick in.

Flicking on their flashlights for only a few seconds at a time, they found a trail, perhaps the telltale paw prints of a lion. Crouching down low to the ground, they paused and strained their eyes in the darkness. They whispered to each other, each of them listening to the sounds of the African night. But they weren’t the only ones out hunting in the darkness.

 The three Mosmbique men may have been carrying deadly hunting rifles, but there was something out there that was far deadlier. With thousands of years of natural killing instinct packed into a powerful body, the African lion is responsible for an estimated 200 human fatalities each year. Male lions can grow to almost 10 feet or 3 m long, including their tail, and can weigh almost 500 lb or 225 kg.

In some individuals, the canines can be as much as 4 in or 10 cm long. They are generalist predators, eating a wide variety of prey species from wilderbeast and zebras to gemsbach, giraffe, and buffalo. Although lions do hunt during daylight hours, they mostly rely on the cover of darkness to take down prey.

Like most nocturnal animals, they possess a tapetum lucidum in their eyes, which reflects more light back through the retina, helping them to see in low light. Their night vision is 6 to eight times better than a humans. In the dark, lions definitely have the upper hand or paw.

 As the men crept forwards, so too did a pride of lions. David wouldn’t have heard the lioness’s approaching, but it seems the three of them walked straight towards an approaching pride. With no time to react, David suddenly let out a loud cry as he was knocked off his feet. He squeezed the trigger of his gun as something huge grabbed his head.

The sound of the gunshot echoed across the African bush, alerting rangers far and wide. David could feel the canine sinking into his skull, and he screamed as he struggled to pull his head free. He kicked his legs and thrashed around as the immense power of the lioness’s pinned him to the ground.

 Amongst the commotion, the other two men dropped their weapons and sprinted off in the opposite direction. David had been only feet in front of them when he was attacked. They had seen the murky outlines of several large animals diving on top of him. They heard the struggle, the moans and groans of the lions, and the screams and cries of their friend.

Sheer terror gripped them as they fled, running back through the game reserve. They tripped over fallen branches and crashed through the bush. They didn’t look back. Their hearts thundered in their ears as they tore through the African night. Gasping and panting, they made it to the perimeter fence and crawled through.

 Only once they were on the other side of the wire did they stop to catch their breath. It was a 50-mi hike back to their village. When they arrived, they had to deliver the devastating news to David’s family. David had been left at the mercy of the lions. He was easy prey. His friends had abandoned him. With no way of seeing the lions in front of him, he could have walked straight into the middle of the pride.

 He couldn’t defend himself, and it would have taken just seconds before one of the lionesses closed her jaws around his throat. Asphyxiation and exanguination are how lions subdue their prey, and David was no exception. It wasn’t a territorial attack. The lions were out on the hunt that night. They were looking for a meal. Whilst David’s friends made it out alive, he was devoured by the pride of lions.

 The gunshots were heard by rangers who headed to the area. But when they finally located the scene of the hunt, the lions had scarped. All that was left of David was his head. Almost his entire body had been eaten. The alarm had been sounded and police and paramedics arrived on scene when daylight broke. David’s remains were transported to Mafuta Malatti Hospital Mortuary.

 When his family learned of the tragedy from the two others on the hunt, they phoned David’s sister-in-law. She lived in South Africa and so was the closest family member to where he now lay. She agreed to formally identify him. It must have been traumatizing for her to see him like that. But she confirmed his identity and the family were able to grieve their loss.

 Lieutenant Colonel Moachi Nagopi of South African Police Service was trying to piece together exactly what happened. Nobody from David’s village was talking. Nobody confirmed whether the trio had been out poaching that night or not. Instead, the evidence needed to be gathered. Next to David’s body lay the hunting rifles and a large amount of ammunition.

 These weapons indicated they were out looking for big game. There were two sets of footprints leading away from the scene, suggesting the other two sprinted away given the length of the strides. Some may say that David got what he deserved. With so few tigers left, there is a higher demand for the use of lion bones in Asian tiger cake and wine.

 Anti- poaching patrols in South Africa often come across the corpses of lions. Their faces and paws have been hacked off, destined for a shipment to the far east. Coming across such gruesome discoveries is so common now that the rangers and anti- poaching units no longer become emotional by what they see.

 There are now more elephants than lions in southern Africa, and their numbers are declining at a rapid rate. Habitat destruction and loss of prey from the bush meat trade, as well as conflict with farmers, are also leading to their demise. On top of the ever growing poaching problem, as long as poaching continues, thousands more animals will die and some of the poachers will meet their terrifying final [Applause] affliction.

 The Alaska wilderness is different from the rest of the world. It is one of the last few places on Earth that have intact natural landscapes. This is why the National Park Service protects 95% of the land, accounting for 30% of the United States entire wilderness. The 57 million acres of land include wheds, glaciers, volcanoes, and rivers.

 One of the most scenic places in the state is Snowshoe Lake, located north of Glenn Highway, 38 mi west of Glenn Allen, Copper River Basin. Amongst the beautiful scenery and the picturesque pine trees decorating Snowshoe Lake, a most fearsome predator lurks in the shadows. The grizzly bear is one of the most dangerous creatures on Earth, and Alaska is its kingdom.

Those who dare to experience the immaculate scenery of Snowshoe Lake should be willing to accept the possibility of encountering these menacing predators. During the 1950s, a man by the name of Lloyd Pennington and his friend Everett Kendall were out in the wilderness to hunt for these majestic and dangerous creatures.

However, the two men became the unfortunate victims of a large grizzly bear gone insane and instead were found dead. It was early April 1956. The typical Alaskan weather was approximately 40° F and there were only a couple of hours of daylight. It was the tail end of winter and the northern lights could be viewed in the sky.

Meanwhile, the vast landscape was peppered with enough snow that winter activities could still be done. Waiting for Lloyd at the runway was a small plane typically used in these types of reconnaissance. Lloyd was a simple man, a professional guide who loved to watch brown bears emerging from their long winter hibernation.

 He also loved hunting them. However, he didn’t plan on doing so today. He was just scouting the area. The thick vegetation was quite hard to navigate through, so flying a plane across the landscape was the way to go. The sounds of the engine whizzed across the alluring Alaskan back country, disturbing the pine leaves swaying along the runway.

 Lloyd applied back pressure to the yolk, and the plane’s nose began to rise as it sped through the dusty asphalt of the road. A few seconds later, the plane took off, taking Lloyd into the sky. He flew over the rich green forests outlining the hills and mountains. The various kinds of trees such as Sitka spruce, western hemlock, tamarak, white birch, and western red cedar moved back and forth in agreement with the early April winds.

Reaching Snowshoe Lake, Lloyd’s eyes scanned over the scrubs below. Suddenly, there in plain and perfect view, the 56-year-old professional guide found what he was looking for. It was a large grizzly bear approaching 8 ft in length. Although he was ways away from the ground, Lloyd could see the glistening melting snow on the bear’s fur as it had just finished hibernating.

 The bear got out of its large den hidden amongst the undergrowth and stretched out its massive paws. It paced toward nearby nutrient-rich vegetation, slowly revealed by the receding snow. Jackpot, Lloyd thought. This bear would be a suitable hunt for his friend and barber, Everett Kendall. The two hunted together in the past, and this would be Everett’s fifth hunt with Lloyd.

 Remembering where the den was located, Lloyd went back to schedule the hunt for an upcoming day when Everett was free. Unbeknownst to him, this would be a grave mistake. A week had passed since Lloyd scouted the nearby area. He proceeded to contact Everett, who had long expressed his desire to bag a large game like this one.

 All the hunting trips they’ve done in the past would pale in comparison to this one. However, it didn’t end well for these two, as we would later find out. After the two communicated, Everett set out and met with Lloyd over at Tasina Lodge, where they spent the night. Tomorrow morning was the day they both awaited. The air was cold, but there was no chance of rain.

 It was April 16th, 1956, and Lloyd and Everett were out to hunt the massive bear. As the two walked toward the runway, they were greeted by a small plane. They checked everything necessary for the hunting trip. Rifles, bags, and the minimum equipment needed to navigate through the cold and beautiful terrain. With everything in place, Lloyd taxied the plane into position and sped through the runway.

 With minor adjustments to the plane, a few clicks, and a bit of pressure on the yolk, the two hunters took off. The familiar sound of the engines echoed through the strips of Alaskan trees. They had seen everything before. However, Lloyd and Everett marveled once more at the gorgeous Alaskan wilderness sprinkled with sparse receding snow.

 Unbeknownst to them, it would be the last time they’d see this sight. Up in the air, the two could see everything. They eventually reached the den with Lloyd pointing below, mentioning to Everett where they’d find the unwitting bear. Lloyd steered the plane into the direction of the wind, landing near the familiar den among the scrubs on a hillside above Snowshoe Lake.

 The two disengaged their seat belts, grabbed their rifles and binoculars, and disembarked on their hunt. With the plane’s engines turned off, the sounds of the Alaskan wilderness permeated the atmosphere and engulfed Lloyd and Everett. The marvelous noise of the rivers, birds, and other animals encircled the two men. Marching up the sparsely iced trail, the two men kept a close eye on the hillside above them to prevent any potentially deadly encounters with predators other than the bear they were hunting.

 They huffed and puffed the cold air, reeling from the exhaustion of climbing the few hundred ft trail. Every now and again, they would pause and appreciate the sacred scenery. However, they stopped themselves from being distracted and made their way to the entrance of the den where the bear was still residing. The two camped out and began to pick up sticks in the area, planning on proddding the newly emerged bear.

 Coming out of hibernation, the creature was supposed to be bewildered, hungry, and easy to hunt. Although this was a tradition done by hunters in the past, it was a deadly undertaking. Death often comes to the uninitiated. Unwittingly, Lloyd and Everett were dancing with death. Waiting by the nearby tree, the two men shared a smoke while planning their move.

 How they would shoot the bear and the best way to recover the body. Grabbing long sticks from the surrounding area, the two prodded around the den, literally poking the bear. The plan was to shoot the creature once it emerged from the entrance. As Lloyd and Everett continued to poke around the den, they eventually heard a sound. However, there was no time for the two to be optimistic.

 The plan was supposed to work, assuming the bear was weary and slowm moving. Unfortunately, what came out of that hellish entrance was anything but that. Without warning, the massive creature made its way toward the entrance and a few feet from Everett. In a blink of an eye, the two men were face to face with death.

 Everett scrambled in panic and began unloading his rifle toward the creature. However, five hunting trips built in him a false sense of confidence. All the shots missed, and the bear was raging towards him. The bear swatted at the rifle and grabbed hold of Everett’s shoulders. The bear’s massive jaws bit down on Everett’s head, pinning him with its weight.

 The leaves on the ground sprang up into the air as the commotion worsened. Everett’s screams echoed through the silent Alaskan wilderness, a place where nobody could find them. Lloyd scrambled for his rifle, attempting to shoot the creature while Everett was mercilessly mauled. He took away his sight from the bear for a while, focusing on adjusting the gun’s safety lock.

 However, before he could point and unload, the creature was already gazing at him. Lloyd froze in terror and despair. For a split second, he could see Everett’s lifeless body underneath the bear’s paws. The creature’s claws were red, painting the ground with Everett’s blood. In a blink of an eye, the few meters of distance between Lloyd and the bear disappeared.

The massive predator grabbed hold of Lloyd’s leg and bit him repeatedly. The sharp canines tore into his flesh, cutting his muscles and joints like a hot knife through butter. The bear knocked Lloyd down, exposing him to more danger. All Lloyd could do at this point was protect his face by raising his arms.

 However, this was pointless as the bear bit into his forearms and tore them to shreds. In one swift motion, the bear reached for Lloyd’s neck and gnawed at his throat and head. Lloyd became lifeless in just a matter of seconds. The two hunters became the hunted. The two men disappearing initiated a search. A bush pilot spotted their bodies and reported the incident to authorities in Anchorage.

 Consequently, 10 heavily armed hunters were deployed in the area to find the culprit bear, following closely the trail that Lloyd and Everett walked through. The hunters cornered the bear and shot it to death. Lloyd and Everett’s bodies strewed near the dense entrance. The ground around them was torn from the commotion. It was unfortunate that the two men died from something that could have been prevented.

 The bear also had to suffer even though it was just protecting itself. and acting according to its nature. The two men found exactly what they were looking for that day, but the tables were turned. They were ripped apart by a ferocious bear. It had come out victorious against two armed men with guns trying to kill it in his den, only to spark revenge on the bear, bringing it to its tragic final affliction.

The Yukon Territory, the smallest and most western of Canada’s territories, is filled with an abundance of wildlife set amongst vast alpine forests, glacial lakes, and rugged valleys. Since the 1980s, bison have been reintroduced to the area. From just 150 individuals and the brink of extinction, their numbers have grown to more than 10 times that.

Although they are an iconic species and one that is recognized the world over for the First Nations who live off the land, their reintroduction was not necessarily regarded as a good thing. They were concerned that their rise in numbers could cause detrimental damage to the ecosystem. Now, to keep numbers down, hunters are allowed to harvest bison in the Yukon Territory.

 First Nation and settler locals are entitled to hunt bison for cultural reasons, whereas visitors have to obtain licenses. Hunting season starts on the 1st of September each year and runs through the fall and winter months. As the CO 19 pandemic was gripping the world, places like the Yukon saw an increase in hunters heading to the wilderness.

 People were desperate to get out and about in less populated areas, making the most of the open space with fewer restrictions. The Yukon Wilderness is exactly where husband and wife Terry and Megan still were headed with their friend Delaney on September 5th, 2020. They had decided on a hunting trip over a long weekend.

 It was the break they needed from their busy lives, and the countryside was perfect. They made their way to Champagne, located on the Alaska Highway for the start of their adventure. But little did they know what sort of tragic adventure it was going to be. An hour outside White Horse, the three friends were locked and loaded, tracking bison in the wilds.

 They had arrived the day before and were prepared to spend the whole weekend hunting the animals. It was the thrill of the chase, the expert marksmanship, and being in the great outdoors that they enjoyed the most during a hunt. But things were about to go seriously wrong. On that Saturday morning, they parked their all-terrain vehicle and set out on foot.

Up ahead was a glade, an opening in the forest where they were sure they would find a bison. It was their perfect habitat, close to the safety of the trees, yet grassland on which they could graze. Silently, the three of them walked through the conifers, treading carefully over the forested floor. As the trees opened out into a clearing, they spotted it, a lone bison.

 Its head was down as it grazed the lush green grass. Its broad shoulders formed a powerful hulk of muscle above the head. Its curved horns protruded from its thick fur. The three hunters had a clean shot. They stood still, watching the impressive animal for a few moments before preparing their weapons. Terry and Delaney then raised their rifles and stared down the scope.

 Although their hearts were racing, they slowed their breathing and focused their sights on the bison. When the weapon was ready, they each pulled the trigger. Two loud cracks rang out, the sound echoing through the woodland, and the bison instantly fell to the ground. It looked like a clean shot. Delaney began walking back to their vehicle to bring it closer to collect the carcass whilst Terry walked over to their kill.

 Megan followed closely behind him. He clutched his rifle, keeping his eyes on the animal. He thought he saw its chest heaving up and down, but wasn’t sure, so he continued to approach it. The two of them had secured two shots into the beast. There was no way it was getting back up. Or was there? The tall grass rustled as Terry walked through it.

Cautiously, he came within feet of the bison. Its ears twitched, and in an instant, it lifted its head. To Terry’s horror, the bison rolled onto its front and climbed to its feet. Terry was now just feet from the towering bison. It had sprung back to life, and the two were now staring each other in the eyes.

With the tree line too far away, there was nowhere for Terry to hide. He was trapped. The bison’s tail stood on end. Its head was bowed and its horns directed right at Terry. It snorted angrily and ran at him, covering the ground between them in less than a second. Terry was taken completely off guard.

 The animal had gone from lying perfectly still to a full-on charge right before his eyes. Terry instinctively raised his rifle and shot at it two more times. But the bison kept coming. He had nowhere to go as there was no way he could outrun it. Running at a top speed of 35 mph, bison can outrun a horse. On top of that, their enormous size, standing over 6 ft at the shoulder, weighing almost a ton, makes them a formidable presence.

 Carrie could feel the vibrations of the galloping hooves thundering across the open ground. His heart was in his mouth, and at the last second, he tried to dive out of the way, but it was no use. Moments later, the bison struck him in the chest. Megan watched in horror as her husband was sent flying through the air. He flipped twice before landing heavily on his back in a crumpled mess amongst the long grass.

 But the bison wasn’t finished with him yet. It ran over to him, and Megan screamed as the bison gored him repeatedly. Delaney heard the commotion and came running back to the clearing. He ran towards Terry and the bison, but it all happened so quickly. Before he could lift his rifle, the bison drove its horns into Terry, inflicting excruciating damage in his chest and side.

 Terry cried out and tried to push the animal off him, but it was too powerful. It shook its head from side to side. The force from the hit had broken bones and caused deep bruising. And now the horns sliced open skin and muscle. As Terry lay there on his back, he was exposed and at the mercy of the enormous beast.

 He couldn’t roll over to protect himself. Instead, he had to endure the might of the bison. But after what seemed like an eternity, the bison lifted its head and stepped backwards. It stumbled a 100 meters from where Terry lay and collapsed on the ground. It had succumbed to the rifle shots and now lay still in the clearing.

 Megan and Delaney rushed to Tererry’s side. He was barely conscious. Blood poured from his open wounds and they tried to stem the bleeding. The walk back to the ATV was far and they were in the middle of the wilderness. Help was a long way away. As Megan and Delaney tried to move Terry, he took his last breath and fell silent.

There was nothing they could do. Terry was gone. His death had been the first ever recorded by a bison in the Yukon Territory. Although people had been injured by the animals before, no one had ever died from an attack. Friends of Terry set up a GoFundMe page hoping to raise money to support his family. He and his wife ran a business from home.

In an instant, the financial security he provided for the family had been taken away. He was just 43 years old, a young man in his prime. When news broke of the tragedy, people were shocked. The First Nation community had been concerned about the conflicts between the ever growing population of bison and themselves for some time, but their concerns had largely been ignored.

 Now, someone had lost their life to one. Although bison are prey animals and typically not aggressive towards humans, they are territorial and protective of their young. If they feel threatened, then they don’t hesitate to charge. In North America, particularly in Yellowstone National Park, tourists can fall victim to an attack if they get too close and do not respect the distance between themselves and the bison.

 People are advised to keep at least 75 ft away from bison and to turn and walk the other way if they come across them in their path. In Terry’s case, the bison was injured and was fighting for its survival. Its instinct was to defend itself against a threat, and it did so until its last breath, shortly after Terry Still’s terrifying final [Applause] affliction.

 Our story today takes place in Yellowstone National Park, but we will go back in time to the year 1912, where the way of life in the park was starkly different to that of today’s life. With constant fluctuations in the wildlife population, 40% of the lakes in the park were barren of fish, creating widespread problems for the people in the area, but also for the wildlife, which began to starve.

 Eventually, something had to be done as the people became desperate. And so, there was a twostory fish hatchery built in 1912, which helped to replenish the area again. In turn, this increased the local population of bears as they were now able to find food more readily available. As a result, many populations had a sudden increase, namely the grizzly bear numbers, which was not too much of a problem as there weren’t too many people in the area, and encounters were still very unlikely.

 That is until a bear known as two toes became a maneater and changed the locals perspective on bears forever. In May 1912, Johnny Graham decided to visit Crevis Mountain with his favorite horse in the hope of striking gold and finally making a family fortune. Suddenly, his horse tripped in a creek and fell onto her side.

 Johnny realized that she was struggling to return to her feet and tried to pull her up with her reinss with little success. She was able to pull herself from the creek to the bankside, but she had broken her leg and so would not be capable of continuing with the hike. He decided it would be better to put her out of her misery instead of leaving her to die, and so with his hunting rifle, he shot her through the head.

 He took one last look at his steed, gathered up his things, and returned to his cabin for the night, trying to decide what his next move would be without his horse. After a few days of prospecting the area on foot, he returned to his cabin to see the dead body of his horse being slowly devoured by a giant grizzly bear.

 He watched the animal through the willow trees, trying to determine its condition and how much a threat it would likely pose to him. As he watched the animal, he noticed that he was a very healthy male bear and knew that he wouldn’t have much of a chance if it decided to attack. So instead, decided he would set a trap for the animal.

 The heavy steel trap was designed with thick, jagged teeth, perfect to clamp onto the animals leg and hold him in place until Johnny could return and shoot him. It was not the most humane device and would certainly cause the animal incredible distress, but this was not a concern of the prospector. Once the bear was full and sauntered away from the corpse, Johnny placed a 60-lb bear trap nearby in the hopes of trapping the animal in the coming days.

 This would not go according to plan. He returned the next day to check if the bear had been caught or not, but to his bewilderment, the trap was gone. He didn’t understand how this was possible and came up with three possible scenarios. One, there was another person out in the wilderness who had stolen his device, although this was highly unlikely as he hadn’t seen anyone in days.

 Two, the bear had gotten caught in the device and pulled himself free in the bushes, although he couldn’t see any blood anywhere. Or three, the bear still had the device attached to him and was wandering around in extreme pain. Johnny surveyed the area and found footprints of the bear leading into the forest. He followed them and suddenly found the animal trapped between two trees with the trap creating a wedge that he couldn’t escape from.

 Johnny was overjoyed as he could tell the animal was trapped and wouldn’t be able to get him. He slowly lined up his rifle with the bear’s chest as the target. He fired two shots into the animals ribs and with a loud roar, the bear fell to the floor and ceased to move. Confident that his shots had killed him, Johnny stroed towards the animal and laid his rifle against a nearby tree, ready to begin skinning the body for a rug in his cabin.

 As he stood in front of the body, the bear suddenly sprang to life and pounced at the man. And before he could even process what was happening, the bear was ripping him to pieces. Through its agony, the animal had one last bout of adrenaline and decided to use it against his killer in a final act of revenge. He pulled his leg through the trap, ripping off three of his toes in the process. But he didn’t care.

 Once free from the trap, he started tearing into Johnny’s abdomen and forced him into the ground as he screamed for help, cursing his decision to leave the rifle behind. The bear soon decided to flee after his mauling, leaving Johnny bleeding out but alive. He knew he had to quickly move and find immediate help, or else he would die from his injuries or worse, the bear would return to finish the job.

 After some time, a fellow miner happened upon him whilst on a trail and ran to find help. A group of miners and lumberjacks quickly arrived in the park and tried to hunt down the animal, but to no avail. They were unable to follow the two-toed bear after he crossed a fast river and knew the bear would almost certainly attack any human being it came across after its run-in with Johnny.

 Instead of crossing the river and finishing off the bear, they decided to return to Johnny and take him to get medical help. But when they returned, he had already died of his injuries. Johnny Graham may have been the first victim of this bear, but he would not be the last. A year later, a 61-year-old woodsman named Pat Welsh was sleeping in the area when he was suddenly awoken by scuffling sounds within his camp.

 He had been camping for decades and knew exactly what would be making those sounds, a bear. He realized that he was being ransacked by the animal as it raided his supplies and devoured the ham and bacon that he found within the camp. Quickly, Pat grabbed cooking utensils, pots, pans, anything he could make noise with and began to crash them together in the hopes of scaring the animal away.

 This usually did the trick, but this bear was not afraid of the noise and instead began to walk towards Pat, who realized that he was in danger. He grabbed his wood chopping ax and began to swing it at the animal, hoping that it would see Pat as a threat, or at the very least too much effort to kill and just leave. Unfortunately, the bear was unfazed and simply batted the ax out of his hands, leaving him vulnerable, just as the bear wanted.

 Knowing that his prey was now defenseless, the bear began his fatal attack and ripped Pat to pieces, clawing him across his whole body as he screamed for help. His friend grabbed some candles and charged at the bear, using the fire to scare the bear away so he could save his friend, but it was too late. The bear had mauled him so severely that he could barely recognize his friend.

 He was able to drag Pat back to camp and tried to get help, but there was no point. His injuries were too severe and he died just a few days later. When reporting his death, Pat’s friend confirmed to authorities that the bear had only two toes, making Pat his second confirmed kill. 3 years later in June 1922, an outlaw known as Frenchie was setting traps along the creek to catch anything he could and sell it back in town.

 Trapping was illegal without a license, but this didn’t matter too much to Frenchie. He was already on the run for various different crimes in different states at the time. One day, he realized that his trap line had caught something big, but he had to return home in order to kill it. He saw the animal from afar. a giant grizzly bear struggling in the creek.

 Frenchie ran back to his cabin and grabbed his hunting rifle. He returned at nightfall, but he couldn’t see the bear. Somehow, he had escaped from the man’s trap and was now roaming loose. His location was not a mystery for long, as he was swiftly attacked by the same bear that he had trapped.

 But this time, he would not win. Frenchie’s rifle was found nearby a few days later as his wife sent out for help in finding her husband. His body was never found, but from his rifle, his death was assumed to be brutal. It is thought that the bear was able to swat the rifle from the man’s hands as he pulled the trigger, allowing the bear to overpower him easily and finish the job.

 They believed this due to his rifle being bent as if something heavy had struck it. Two Toes was never seen or heard from again, although the trap in which he was caught in was found a year later. Ultimately, Two Toes was never seen from again after finishing his rampage with a confirmed kill count of three men, although it was speculated to have a body count much higher.

 There was multiple missing persons in Yellowstone during the time who were also believed to be the victim of two toes. But without any bodies being found, it can never be confirmed. In the years that followed, the legend of the deadly two toes continued to haunt the local prospectors and trappers. Every brave soul who dared step into the wilderness couldn’t help but feel a shiver down their spine, frightened with the anticipation that they might soon come face to face with the murderous bear and meet their terrifying final

affliction. The tiger weighs over 500 lb and can grow to be 3 m or 10 ft long from nose to tail. With sharp canine teeth over 3 in long, it can tear apart entire limbs in a single bite. The Siberian tiger is known to possess a particularly vengeful and begrudging attitude towards anyone that dares cross its path, man or beast.

With a cunning mind to match, it can remember encounters for weeks and plan elaborate plots to follow and hunt its prey. Once a near extinct species, the predator, also known as the Amore tiger, had come back to life through conservation efforts and repopulated the province of Primoria near the world’s largest undamned river, the Amur River.

For decades, the tiger sat comfortably at the top of the food chain, feeding on moose, elk, and wild boar. That was until humans started populating the region, trying to scrape out a living in the dense tiger forests after the fall of the Soviet Union. Poachers realized the potential of this area despite the fact that they had to settle among some of the most dangerous predators in the world.

 The meat of the Siberian tiger and the wild boar fetched good money in the black markets near the Chinese border. And for many like Marov, this was their only sustenance in the broken postsviet economy. On a cold winter morning in 1997, Marov loaded his supplies, kissed his wife goodbye, and set out with his friend on a 50-mi drive deep in the heart of the frozen tiger forest.

 The plan was to spend the night in a remote cabin, and leave to hunt in the morning. As the sun dawned, he set out on foot, accompanied by his attack dogs, who could also be used to sniff out the scent of the Siberian tigers from their footprints. In below freezing temperatures, the snow covered the solid ground by at least 10 in as Marov limped his way through the layers of snow among the forest trees and thick brush.

 Marov spotted a trail of footprints that were even bigger than his hand. Prince as large as this could only belong to the great Siberian tiger. He followed the tracks for miles, hoping they would lead him to the animal they belonged to. Armed with a shotgun, Marov was confident that he was one clear shot away from a kill that could make him good money in this failing economy.

Then, as he peered over one of the trees, he saw the enormous Siberian tiger feeding on a wild boar. It looked over at the man, locking eyes for a few seconds before going back to eating, refusing to let go of its kill. The fierce animal looked unfazed as its muscles rippled with every bite of flesh it pulled from the dead boar.

 Marov realized he was close enough to get the clear shot he needed. He raised his shotgun and fired a bullet straight into its torso. It was a sure hit, he thought. It was only a matter of time that the tiger would succumb to the fatal injury. He walked ahead, salvaged whatever meat he could from the carcass of the dead wild boar, and followed the tiger a few more miles as it limped away, injured in the deep snow.

 The white snow made it easy to follow the blood trail, but he noticed it decreasing the farther he went along in its pursuit. It wasn’t long afterwards that the trail stopped, and Marov was left standing alone in the snow with no idea of where the tiger was, dead or alive. He quickly realized that the tiger must not have been fatally wounded and decided to head back to his camp to return the next day.

 He stored one piece of the boar meat just outside of his camp and left for town to see what he could trade for the other one. But while Marov was away, the wounded tiger had followed the scent of the man to the cabin and smelled its boar hunt stored outside in the wellhead. In frustration, the tiger reclaimed his kill and destroyed the wellhead in the process.

It then camped outside near the cabin, awaiting the man’s return. When Marov got back to the cabin, he noticed his dogs barking loudly and incessantly, trying to signal to him that something wasn’t right. He peered through the window and saw the tiger at a distance. He called his dogs back into the cabin. If the injured tiger had still not left after reclaiming its boar meat, he was after more than just the boar meat.

Marov realized that the animal had come for vengeance and he could not afford to let it live once it had smelled his scent. He set up his gun through a shooting port in the wall and open fired, wounding the tiger twice now from the same gun. It disappeared into the forest, still able to carry itself despite being shot several times.

 Marov decided to go to his friend Duna’s cabin not far away and drive away to safety with him in his car. His friend urged him to stay the night at his place because the car’s radiator fluid had to be drained every night to keep it running and they couldn’t leave right away. Marov was now visibly frustrated and decided to make his way back to his cabin and deal with the problem the only way a poacher knows by shooting the tiger.

Little did he know, in his absence, the tiger had torn down his cabin’s front door and had made its way inside, chewing and clawing at anything that had Marov’s scent on it. It shred to pieces clothing, mattresses, and tools that he had used, and then found a well-hidden spot outside the trail to lie and wait for Marov’s return.

 It was dark, and Marov was just making his way to the entrance of the cabin when he was ambushed by the tiger. Caught unarmed, he soon found himself at the mercy of the vengeful Siberian tiger. And after their last two encounters, there wasn’t much mercy left. Several hours later, investigators discovered a chilling scene outside of the camp.

 One that captured the grueling nature of the attack and the terrified helplessness of Marov in his final moments before being devoured. The snow around the scene had melted and flattened from the wrestling and wriggling that Marov must have tried while being eaten alive. There wasn’t much to call Marov’s body anyway.

 A few bones here, a pool of blood, red snow there. Some of his clothes were found several feet away. His shoes still carried his severed feet. His sleeves still held his detached arms. The tiger was momentarily pacified after tearing apart its hunter and headed downstream. Word had now gotten out of the man-eating Siberian tiger, and terrified poachers and settlers evacuated the tiger forest to escape the same fate as Marov.

 The only one still in the area was 25-year-old Andre Pachutna. He was a trapper who had set up traps in the forest to catch animals for their fur. Andre’s parents urged him not to leave the house to check his traps until the tiger had been found, but he did not heed any advice to stay inside and set out in the forest.

 In Andre’s absence, the tiger had found his cabin and thrashed it, just like it did to Marov’s cabin. The Siberian tiger seemed to want to follow and tear to pieces anything that smelled remotely human. Upon his return, he was ambushed by the tiger near a neighbor’s cabin, nestled behind a mattress as if it had been lying in wait for him all along.

 There was not much fight or resistance. Andre attempted to pull his shotgun from his shoulder and take aim, but the bullet refused to fire. In the harsh Russian winters, older guns were known to have ammunition failures from a frozen cartridge. His shotgun failed at the last moment he would have wanted it to. Andre was now easy pickings for the Siberian tiger as it jumped on top of him, leaving him little chance for a fight.

 Young Andre’s father called for a search and rescue mission to find his son, and they did. But all that was now left of Andre was a few bloodied clothes and a chard of the cross. The tiger had been feeding on him for over 3 days when the search team discovered him, and there was little of Andrew they could salvage from the site to return to his father.

 At the time, Project Tiger was a westernf funded animal conservation group operating in the Tiger Forest trying to stop illegal hunters and poachers from driving the Siberian tiger to the brink of extinction. The head tracker for the mission, Yuri Trush, found himself in an ironic predicament. As a tiger conservationist and a researcher himself, he was tasked by the authorities to find the injured tiger and kill it on the spot.

 He was accompanied by officers Shibf and Pyonga and the trio soon discovered the tracks of a limping tiger. They had been walking on three legs carrying one in the air, likely wounded. The tracks led them to a remote area near the cabin of a man named Schlamnco. The party now knew the tiger was nearby.

 They listened closely to every ruffle in the trees and then saw the slightest movement in their field of vision. As they went close to the cabin entrance, the giant Siberian tiger leapt at Officer Trush from behind with a deafening loud roar. All three men frantically tried to aim their guns at the tiger, but it was too late for the head tracker as he quickly found himself beneath the angry behemoth tiger, clawing and gnawing at his vulnerable body.

 In the heat of the moment, the trio had fired dozens of bullets and 11 of those hit the tiger, which after a few seconds finally collapsed and died. Gathering his senses, Officer Trush tried to figure out where his rifle had gone, only to later realize it had partially gone down the tiger’s throat as it jumped at him. The Siberian tiger was loaded onto a truck and taken to the village to confirm that it was indeed the correct tiger.

 The tiger, after killing, maming, and terrorizing settlers for far too long, had now finally been killed. The animal was later skinned and put up for display in the region’s administrative headquarters as a stark reminder of the horror brought by the man-eating tiger and a lesson for what happens when man and beast cross each other’s paths.

 And in this situation, leading to two people’s terrifying final affliction. [Applause] On 16th of September 2011, 39-year-old Steve Stevenson headed to a Montana forest. He was out on a hunting trip. He had secured his license to hunt black bears in the woodland along the Montana Idaho border and joined a group of three others.

 They were each permitted to hunt for black bears in both states, either side of the border. Steve was a devoted husband and a father to two young daughters aged 14 and 10. He worked as a minor for a company called Highraftoft, mining for silver and gold. In his spare time, he considered himself as an outdoorsman. He loved hiking in the wilderness, amongst nature, amongst friends.

 He’d also been hunting in this region before on many occasions. Overall, Steve was excited for their hunting trip together. They were ready to hunt some black bears. As the group hiked into the wilderness, their small talk turned to the job at hand, the prospect of shooting one of nature’s greats. After about 3 mi into their trip, Steve and 20-year-old Ty Bell paired off to cover more ground.

They often hunted alone, coming together at the end of the day. But they knew grizzly bears were in the area. In fact, they had seen signs of grizzly bears, and they knew it was safer to hunt in pairs. They had said if they saw a grizzly, they would leave and come back another time. As they scoured the woodland for signs of black bears, they climbed a ridge to scout even further.

High up on the ridge, the men could see across the valley. At first, there was no sign of any bears. But then, Tai thought he spotted one. The two men stopped in their tracks. A little distance away, Tai had seen a flash of fur. Something large moved amongst the bushes. its head low to the ground, foraging perhaps for berries, roots, and leaves. Tai raised his rifle to his eye.

He aimed it at the bushes and looked along his scope. As the bear stepped out from behind a bush, Tai pulled the trigger. A single shot rang out. The bear lurched and then ran off into the dense woodlet. Steve and Ty waited 15 minutes before following the blood trail. They needed to be sure the bear was dead before they went after it.

 A wounded beast is the most dangerous of them all. Little did the two men know, they hadn’t shot a black bear. Instead, they had shot its much more aggressive cousin, a grizzly, one of only 45 known to inhabit the Cabinet Yak ecosystem area. The hunting of grizzlies was illegal in the region, as it was in all 48 lower states.

 Over hunting had largely decimated the grizzly population over the past century. But through protection and the banning of hunting, their numbers have somewhat recovered in recent decades. Hunters hunting in the state of Montana are required to take a bear identification course. In the thick of the woodland, when the animals are obscured from view, it can be difficult to tell them apart.

 Often, a hunter will just see a flash of fur. They will just catch a glimpse of it, and then they have to make a split-second decision there and then whether to take the shot or not. They are all still classified as an endangered species though, so the mistaken identity of this grizzly could have meant bad news for Tai, who had now unintentionally just broken the law.

 But the bad news was about to get worse. As the blood trail took the two hunters into the thickest of the forest, they suddenly heard a noise. The snap of a twig, the grunting and snorting of a large animal. They knew they were close. They realized that they had made their first mistake.

 They knew that the shot hadn’t killed the bear, but they hadn’t left enough time for it to die. Peering around a tree, the two men saw it. To their disbelief, a 400 lb, 180 kg, brown bear stood waiting for them. It wasn’t a black bear as they had originally thought. It was a wounded grizzly, the most dangerous of its kind.

 And now it was cornered, too. Its breathing was labored, its eyes fixed on the two men. It lowered its head, its ears pricricked back as it ran at them, launching its attack. The two men instinctively raised their rifles and began shooting at the bear, but it didn’t slow down. It didn’t flinch or veer off its path.

 It kept coming at them. Steven yelled at the bear. He waved his arms above his head, trying to distract it as he saw that it was fixated on Tai. He was trying to get the bear to come for him rather than his young hunting companion. He was trying to protect the 20-year-old. That was the kind of man he was.

 He wouldn’t have thought twice about it. He purely acted on instinct. A genuinely kind-hearted man who would do anything to protect those around him. It worked. The bear covered the ground between them in less than a few seconds and diverted its attention to Steven. Then it was on top of him.

 Ty lifted his gun and pointed it at the bear. He fired a shot. The bear began to maul Steven. Ty could hear his friend’s cries. He could see the man underneath the animal, scrabbling about, trying to push the huge bear off him, but its weight was too much. Its claws slashed Steven’s legs and torso. Its canine teeth tore into his face. He kicked with his feet, but it was too much. He couldn’t get the bear off him.

Tai pulled his trigger again and again. Each time reloading, each time trying to keep his cool, trying to load the gun with trembling fingers and his heart thumping loudly in his chest. Several shots rang out, one after the other in quick succession. They hit the bear in its side.

 Tai could see the impact of each shot as they pummeled the bear’s fur, embedding deep within its body. But the bear was relentless in its attack. It didn’t slow down and it didn’t give up. The bullets only enraged it further. The adrenaline surging through its enormous body, masking any pain that must have been building.

 Then he fired another shot at the bear and it climbed off Steven, stumbled a few feet, and fell to the ground. Its body lay slumped next to Steven. Ty rushed over to his friend. He held Steven’s head in his hands and urged him to wake up. But Steven lay still. He did not move. He did not utter a sound. He was dead.

 Blood poured from his gaping wounds. But he also had a single gunshot wound in his chest. Tai had shot his friend. In the heat of the moment, amongst all the commotion and chaos, he had accidentally hit Steven in the chest. No one knows whether the bullet hit the bear first and came ricocheting through its body and into the father of two or whether Tai had shot Steven directly.

 Either way, Steven was dead and it was a tragic end. As Steven lay motionless on the ground, Tai made the desperate and agonizing call to the authorities. He had lost his friend. What was supposed to be an incredible adventure and enjoyable time spent in the great outdoors had ended in tragedy and it was his fault.

 Soon he heard the sound of a chopper overhead. He directed the rescue team to his location and Steven’s body was lifted out of the woodland and headed over to the Lincoln County Authorities in Montana. An autopsy was performed at the Montana State Crime Lab and it was confirmed that although Steven had sustained injuries from the bear during the attack, particularly to his legs, he had actually died from the gunshot wound to his chest.

 Tai had unintentionally killed his friend while attempting to save his life. He was traumatized by the news that it was him who had killed Steve, not the bear. He was torn by the fact that if he had remained a bit more calm and focused, Steve might have survived. The bear was taken to a lab in Bosezeman.

 It was weighed and determined to be a male and was estimated to have been between 6 and 8 years old. Sadly, bear attacks claimed the lives of five or six individuals in the United States every year. But this time, it wasn’t the bear to blame for the loss of life. Tai received no charges from authorities from this incident, and it was considered to be an accident.

 From the amount of bullets it took to stop the bear, it’s likely that even if Tai hadn’t shot Steve, he would have still met his terrifying final affliction.