Heading: Adventurers
"The evil spirit of Urga"
Andrey Storchilov:
Photo of the author
I have heard about irkuyem ... I know that scientists don't believe in its existence and prove easily the impossibility of the existence of such a beast in the north. They say, about meetings with this bear in Chukotka and Koryakia. In Chukchi, irkuyem means "someone who is dragging on the ground", or "dragging pants on the ground" (alternatively, "lowered pants"). It's called so because of its overly bloated rump. Dropped pants sounds ridiculous. But only in Moscow. Somewhere on the coast of the cold lake Elgygytgyn, aborigines pronounce it with the same enthusiasm and life-affirming optimism as we pronounce the words "deceased", "grave", "cemetery” …
Irkuyem is a cryptid, a hypothetical animal that supposedly lives (or lived) in Chukotka and in the adjacent areas of Kamchatka. It looks like a very large size bear, but different from brown and white bears in build and color.
In the second half of the 1960s, there were reports from Chukotka about the appearance of giant bears, which were twice or three times bigger in the weight of the average brown bear and distinguished by an unusual appearance.
Basically, these animals were allegedly encountered by reindeer herders, the lake Elgygytgyn was most often mentioned as the place of the largest number of such meetings. I heard some stories, which told very large bears of strange appearance were hunted in Kamchatka — in 1976, 1980 and 1982 in the Olyutorsky, Karaginsky and Tigilsky districts of the Kamchatka region. Back in the 1920s, Swedish zoologist Sten Bergman was very interested in information about the giant bears of Kamchatka. He studied a huge bearskin, taken from there, and announced the existence of a new subspecies of the brown bear Ursus arctos piscator (the so-called Bergman bear).
The reconstruction of the possible appearance of the irkuyem, based on a set of rumors, legends and unconfirmed evidence of varying degrees of reliability, gives the image of a very large bear, about twice the size of a brown bear (the weight of the irkuyem was estimated at 800-1000 kg). The front paws of the irkuyem are powerful, but curved. The hind legs are relatively much shorter than those of a brown bear and are also curved, so that the irkuyem lowers the ass very low, almost dragging it when walking. This impression is enhanced by the heavily sagging, heavy lower part of the body. The color of the skin of the irkuyem is much lighter than that of the brown bear - almost gray. Irkuyem's movements are slow and clumsy. The large size, short paws and sagging ass don't give it the opportunity to quickly hide when meeting people.
The hypothesis of the existence of irkuyem was at the peak of popularity in the second half of the 1980s. It became possible and received considerable resonance. due to the active activity of Kamchatka enthusiast Rodion Nikolaevich Sivolobov, who conducted an intensive correspondence with a number of Soviet scientists and several publishing houses. Sivolobov claimed that he saw that animal himself, and became the owner of its skull and skin of an unusually light color with an abnormally wide back.
May 2011 year. Kamchatka
I never thought that it would be interesting to get an irkuyem, since it was just a hypothetical creature, something like a goblin or a brownie for me. But I really wanted to get a large Kamchatka bear, and in 2011 I went to Kamchatka. I understand now, years later, that the trigger of fate has been pulled at that moment , a trigger's been triggered that could no longer be stopped (I haven't occurred to me that it should have been stopped), and fate unwillingly unfolded into a chain of dramatic events
Everything started when my friend and hunting partner Irek Khasanov invited me to hunt for a Kamchatka bear with the famous hunter Alexander Shemaev. Alexander was known among other hunters as an experienced man, as a professional with a capital letter. But his main feature was an indefatigable passion for bear hunting, versatile hunting acumen and skill in tracking down trophies. I didn't think long, and decided to go. There was not much delay, and in the first days of May four hunters met in Domodedovo – two from St. Petersburg and Irek and I. Our meeting continued by troublesome movements around the airport, checking in weapons and ammunition, then fuss, then waiting, and at last we were on the flight "Moscow - Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky".
After eight and a half hours of flight, Yelizovo Airport pleased us with good weather. And I must say that this is not always the case in Kamchatka Sometimes the weather is almost the main stumbling block for the hunter. Then we took our time and accommodated in a hotel for the flight crew, near the airport – the next day there was another four-hour flight to a small regional airport – Palana, from where it was planned to start hunting.
There was a good place for hunting large bears (and not only bears). A few years later, in May 2015, I got a very good bear in that area. Let's look into the future for a while – four years ahead. Or a year ago, if you count from today. It depends on you.
May 2015 year. Kamchatka. Urga river
It was a day when we left the camp. Shemaev was ahead as always, the guide and I were on the second snowmobile and followed in the "wake". It was very cold, just dog cold! The snow froze overnight, and the sledge skis went hard, creaking through the icy crust. We drove about six kilometers when a thick fog covered us suddenly. It was as thick as milk. The cold was right up to the bones! The barrel of my carbine was quickly covered with a thick layer of frost. Suddenly Shemaev turned off the engine, and we bumped into his "ass" by inertia.
- What? Let's stay and wait...- Shemaev turned to us.
- How long? - I asked.
- Until the fog clears!
- Is it a problem? Are we afraid to drive in the fog or I don't know something?
- We stay on the rock. There is abyss 100 m near us. And there are only one hundred steps to it.
I tried to look around, but I saw nothing but "white silence". But Shemaev continued:
– Last year, one bear waited for me at this place twice. By a miracle I was alive then. It even chased me though I was running a snowmobile. It was thin, like a dog. It died later. I found its remains not far from here. Why didn't it hibernate? I don’t know. Probably, someone interfered or occupied its den. And in the summer, I saw another bear here, and it looked like a monster obviously!
We waited for 3,5 hours already. The fog didn’t move...
Shemaev was nervous, when gave the orders: let's go, then we stopped, then we moved, then we sat.... Finally, the sun broke through the clouds, and we slowly got off the sleigh. I threw my Blaser over my shoulder, and our team went to the edge of the cliff, which was visible. Then, we moved stealthily over the edge, looking down.
So we walked about a kilometer, and then Shemaev’s behavior, who was walking in front, was changed. He sat down briskly, fell on his side and moved his legs amusingly, climbed forward along the snow cap to the cliff. A terrible thought flashed through my mind – now the snow cap will break, and then that's it!
He lay on his stomach, then turned around and beckoned me with his hand. Let's move faster! he gesticulated with a face contorted with excitement. I crept up and sat down next to him, crossing my legs. Shemaev pointed his finger sharply down and to the right.
The bear, which any trophy-taker can only dream of. was just a hundred and fifty meters separated us. The massive male walked under the ledge with a wide, sweeping step. It didn't fall into the snow – so wide were the paws of the beast. I could clearly see its powerful chest, it was possible to shoot.
The carbine in the 8x68 caliber with a bullet weighing 14.5 grams was ready to fire. I pulled myself up higher and started aiming from the elbow. The bear felt something and was clearly nervous, it was jerking its head higher, greedily sucking in the frosty air and exhaling it just as hard. The nervousness of the beast was transmitted to me - I suddenly remembered what happened four years ago almost the same place. The whole atmosphere around was saturated with nervousness, as if the critical mass had already been reached and an unrealistically terrible explosion was about to follow.
And then it turned its side! I had aligned the aiming grid vertically below the shoulder blade, and fired.
The monster stopped. It froze like a stuffed animal! It seemed to me that it wasn't even injured – it didn't rush to the side, didn't fall, it just froze. Time slowed down, it seemed that nothing had been happening for an eternity that would have to happen. Even the air froze so that the cartridge case, which jumped out of the chamber, described an arc with a ringing whistle in it and just sank slowly into the snow.
Then a sharp discharge of the cartridge into the chamber happened and a second shot.
The bear collapsed, burying its muzzle deep in the snow.
We should make a very decent detour through the gorge, maneuvering n two snowmobiles among the trees, we could reach the place, where it lay only two hours later. When we managed to pull the beast to an even place, I saw that the first bullet lay much lower. The reason was in the morning cold that froze the barrel of the carbine completely. But the second one fell right in the heart.
We measured the skin and it was 305 cm. That's how our next hunt has ended on a frosty morning, but I'll return to the story and tell you about the events, which have happened there four years before.
May 2011 year. Kamchatka. Palana
Alexander Shamaev and his wife Lyuba welcomed us with great cordiality. Alexander was very cheerful and at the same time modest by nature, and was able to combine the rigidity of character with sincere hospitality. The following week of communication strengthened this confidence in me.
It took us no more than two hours to get our "huge" luggage at the Palana airport, after that the whole group went to the local hotel. The plan was to go 100 km away in the morning, to the temporary construction base, located on the way between Palana– Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky, where an ATV with a trailer was supposed to wait for us. Then we were going to drive eight-hour by ATV from there through the impassable tundra with snowmobiles and sledges on board to the Shemaev base, sheltered somewhere in the distant foothills, near the Urga River.
So, it happened. We got up early, changed into all hunting gear and drove two jeeps to the meeting place. The guides were already there and were already working hard, tying up the rigging, securing snowmobiles and sleds. We also joined the loading, looking for places for our belongings and carbines inside the ATV, which was already packed to capacity with food and all sorts of things necessary for the camp.
After lunch, we set off smoothly. The ATV was constantly shaking and roaring…
Spring came early to Kamchatka that year. The snow had already come down, and the elfin wood was showing everyone its intricate "labyrinths". It was clear that the snowless hunting wouldn't be easy. It was pointless to hunt near the base at all. Shamaev decided to leave the staff at the base, and go further with the rest of the team into the mountains, where there was still snow and it would be possible to move on snowmobiles. We were going to the place where a tent with a "handmade stove" was already set up and there were barrels of fuel.
And everything turned out exactly according to Shemaev's plan. After a day of living at the base and 6 hours of driving on the tundra, we finally got to the place. Shamayev's staff cleared the area from trees in a small wooded area on the bank of the Urga, and they set up a tent there. We jumped out of the ATV, and came closer to it and were dumbfounded. Nothing was left from it, just visibility. It was torn to shreds by a bear from top to bottom. There were only aluminum arcs and tattered tarpaulins around the edges…
We had to collect urgently all the tarpaulin that we managed to find in the ATV, then we got wires there and began to sew the tent. By the evening, We set i a kind of choom with a stove in the center. It somehow saved us from strong wind, snow and frost during the whole time of hunting. Irek Khasanov -my friend and a very experienced outfitter took care of our "inner world" – we went for hunting, and he went to the kitchen, and when we were coming back, and he greeted us with a delicious dinner!
There were three hunters with me on that expedition. We got six bears for three hunters for three days of staying in the foothills of the Urga River. Five of them were very large, enviable trophies. But the last one. But the story about it is ahead.
May 2015 year. Kamchatka. Urga river
It was a sunny day, the weather was simply magnificent, without any hint of fog! It was the third or fourth hunting day. We zigzagged on two snowmobiles around the snow-covered cedar in search of bears. I had already had a trophy, which I told you about a little earlier, but there were several licenses more, and hunting was not only a tick in the list of hunted species of trophy animals, it was also a little comparable pleasure – so why not try it again and again?
We had been "in the saddle" for six hours already, and there was no result. We stopped to rest, drink tea. We turned off the engines on the edge of a rocky cliff, and decided to walk a little along the ridge that stretched for many kilometers. Then I went a hundred meters away from the sleigh, and took out binoculars and began to examine the opposite wall of the cliff, overgrown with deciduous trees and shrubs. It was a kilometer and a half to it, according to my estimates. I examined the rock scrupulously, peered into the stones, then into the shadows, then into the gaps between the trees. The search did not yield results for an hour, and suddenly it seemed that there was an inconspicuous movement between the stones. I focused all my attention on that place. I no longer doubted that it was a bear. But what size? After a while, he appeared from behind the stone, came out, sat on its ass and began to look around, turning its head. The long distance made it impossible to determine its size. Thanks to the years of bear hunting, I have learned to draw conclusions about trophies from long distances, about the actual size, especially when the initial detection of the beast. The most significant thing is in this assessment is the distance between the ears, the ratio of the size of the head of the beast and its trunk; the second is the height of the trunk relative to the ground; the third is the length of the belly from the elbow bend to the posterior kneecap but it’s not all. More information can be obtained by analyzing the movement of an animal over rough terrain, especially in the mountains – you can get a clear idea of its mass and physical condition how it throws its front paws forward.
That beast seemed too massive and therefore extremely slow. It was exactly the one we had been running after for half a day.
I called Shemaev on the radio, and he was there in a few minutes. He took the binoculars, looked at the bear for a long time, then returned the binoculars to me, lit a cigarette and, said after being silent for a couple of minutes: “Why do you seat? Let's go!”
It was obviously clear that we would not make it leave the gorge. Therefore, Shemaev decided to make a trap. We'll send a guide on a snowmobile to drive through the gorge, while we'll climb on another snowmobile to the top of the rock ridge opposite from us. It'd hear the huntsman's snowmobile and, break up, where we meet it.
A few minutes later we parted with the huntsman in different directions and an hour later we were already on the opposite slope of the ridge. Then we went down the slope a little, drowning in the snow, and took a very convenient position for shooting in all directions. All distances were up to two hundred meters on average. Shemaev radioed the guide to start moving through the gorge.
We didn't have to wait long. I spotted it in the sight almost immediately. The beast was floating powerfully through the snow, hurrying straight to us. It was huge! I watched how hard it worked with its paws, while climbing up, how its broad chest heaved when breathing. It often stopped and, turned around at the roar of an approaching snowmobile. There were about 400 meters left when it turned sideways suddenly and walked along the ridge past us, sinking deep into the snow. The bear paddled in the snow between the trees without slowing down, soon it came out at a convenient distance for me to shoot. I had it in my sights the whole time. Shemaev sat next to me and, mumbled something, but did not interfere, and that pleased …
Suddenly I saw how it reached the open area and… The bear rested against the trunk of a tree and froze. I immediately fired, and the bullet entered its shoulder blade. The bear roared and stood up to its full height, clinging to the branches of the tree with its paws. It had lost its balance at some point, and fell heavily on the back in an arc and lay still… It was all over.
It was impossible to describe the delight we felt after that hunt. I got the specimen of the Kamchatka bear with a long skin of more than three meters! I always have luck on the hunt with Shemaev!
If I do not remember and do not think about the "luck" that has happened four years ago, in May 2011, on the penultimate hunting dayь…
May 2011 year. Kamchatka. Urga river
Two hunting days left. Then we should get to the hunting base of Shemayev, and from there to Palana.
Strong winds with snow began in the mountains, and our tent was torn apart.
We left the camp before dark – Shemaev on his snowmobile was ahead, I and very experienced guide Victor behind him on a snowmobile. His Yamaha was briskly pulling the sled with the only passenger-me. The weather on that day decided to pamper us with sunlight and the absence of wind.
We had to cut our way through the cedar tree with axes and saws, because it had already melted, and its thick hooked branches stuck out everywhere, and handed the movement.
Pretty soon we reached a wide plateau near the foothills and continued to move to the farthest part of Shemaev's hunting grounds, which were the most inaccessible and impassable. He rarely visited those places himself– either he was saving them for a special occasion, or he was saving fuel – there were enough bears to hunt near the base.
The other hunters and the locals saw a huge bear in that remote place but it never gave a close look at itself. Many of them said that bears of that size were rarely found in Kamchatka. How you can stand near the well, but not to drink - Is it good!? The desire to meet that monster worried my soul.
I noticed lots of things, which didn't come across so often in other places while we were riding there. There were a lot of remains of wild deer everywhere. But I attributed that observation to the fact that there were just a lot of bears in those remote mountains.
The hunting area was nothing remarkable. Mountains looked as all other mountains. Shemaev suggested to climb higher on snowmobiles and inspect the area from above. "Maybe, - he said. - We'll get lucky and notice something special.” So we did, climbed into the mountains and stared into the eyepieces of binoculars.
At first it seemed that everything and everywhere was flat. Then at a distance of three or four kilometers, in one of the gorges, we noticed a very strange feature – it was all covered with bear tracks. They seemed to be tracing the snow cover with dotted lines. There were plenty of them! Shemaev explained it as follows: that narrow ravine was protected from all sides by mountains, and it was a unique aft "bridgehead", covered completely with cedar with a still preserved cone. It was quickly covered with snow in autumn, when the onset of cold weather, and now, when the thaw started almost the entire Kamchatka bear gathered in that place. It was our chance!
The option to go there "quietly" disappeared immediately: a thick, slightly melted cedar would not let us step a step. Therefore, we decided to drive at speed from two sides into that gorge and see what would happen. Shemaev said:
– It's not an easy road there, it won't be possible to get to the exit right away, you both have to turn your heads 360 degrees, there are steep ascents and descents, a river, a cedar tree. If you notice something "good one", don't think, but shoot immediately! Let's start!
I nodded in agreement. I took a proven HS Precision carbine in 338 Lapua Mag caliber with Sierra bullets weighing 16.5 grams for that trip. Later, after the hunt, I thanked fate that that particular carbine was with me at that time and in that place.
We started up engines, I took a comfortable position in the sled for shooting and sent a cartridge into the chamber. We accelerated and almost flew into the intermountain after a minute or two with a roar for the whole neighborhood.…
I remembered for a lifetime what I saw there. The groups of bears of 3-4 individuals began to appear on the slopes in the ascent at the exits from the hollow, because of the rumble from our snowmobiles. In total, I counted six groups at distances from 300 to 800 meters, in which there were three or four bears. Unbelievable! It was unforgettable to watch herds of bears in one place! The animals scattered on the left and on the right side of the gorge. Suddenly the snowmobiles stopped abruptly, and silence fell. We turned our heads to the left, then to the right in the hope to see something really worthwhile. I got out of the sleigh, walked ten meters to the side, and then I heard Shemaev's shout.
- On the right, in the ascent, the last one!!!
I laid the carbine between the bent branches of a cedar tree, fell knee-deep in snow, but somehow managed to balance my feet on the snags.
There were two of them. One was small, but the second one ate porridge with vitamins in childhood. It was a trophy that any trophy hunter could only dream of! The shooting distance was 600 meters.
Shemaev shouted:
-Andrey, shoot! Don’t let it leave!
I put the carbine, and calculated the correction for the shot, and fired!
Two my shots didn’t give any result. The animals walked more powerfully than I thought – there was a hard crust under the paws of the bears. The distance was increasing! I fired a third time, focusing on the aiming grid.
Shemaev shouted:
- Lower!
The next, fourth shot... stopped the bear. It stood up, swayed, and sat down. The distance was 720 meters. We froze in anticipation…
After a while, the bear got up and went to the right and up, moving its paws heavily. My breath caught in my throat, but then I noticed a clear trail of blood on the way it left. Shamaev shouted for Victor to get on the snowmobile quickly and take me to the foot of the cliff, from where I could take a few more shots.
We jumped to the place, and saw large bear tracks going up the mountain. At last, I saw the bear through binoculars, but the distance to it was critical – already all 1000 meters! And the angle was too steep!
I did two more shots but without any result. The bullets went in the wrong place. Nevertheless, it was clear that the bear was slowing down - it often stopped sat down, and shoveled snow with its paws. It did it each 100 m. Blood gushed from it in a stream, flooding the snow.
We continued the pursuit, and after a while I saw it, had already climbed very high, and lay down behind a boulder. It was over! I felt it. It always happens with a hunter – this strange connection with an animal.
But how could we get it from there? Who could climb waist-deep in snow on a bear trail – and there was no less than a kilometer to that very boulder – and finish off the beast It was beginning to get dark... There was only one person among us who was able to go to the icy mountain - huntsman Victor. Neither Shemaev nor I had any strength left.
Victor took the carbine and started climbing.
We kept looking up and saw him slowly closed the distance between himself and the bear though he did frequent stops. The most difficult thing was to overcome the narrow icy strip on the crest of the cliff to the boulder where the bear lay hidden.
About an hour and a half, Victor reached the mark of 1000 meters, and we noticed how he crouched down and began aiming towards the boulder. Two shots rang out, one after the other. The bear jumped out with a swing, from behind a boulder, turned over on its back and rolled down to the bottom, where we were standing. It didn’t last for a long. Soon it gradually slowed down, turned over on the belly and spread its paws wide.
Victor began to descend diagonally to the beast and after a while we saw him shoot again. Then, the dead bear rolled downhill without stopping. It had been rolling for a long time from such a height. And flew almost to our feet.
I was shocked by its size. It was an incredibly massive male Kamchatka brown bear with a large yellow-red head. It turned out that the bullet Scenar hit the bear in the hind leg, broke the bone and artery, and went somewhere higher (then it was found under the spine). It was a serious injury that just stopped it.
I was bubbling inside with joy, and I had no doubt that congratulations would begin \. I noticed that for some reason Shemaev was not particularly cheerful to my indescribable surprise. He even looked sad. What's happen? What's wrong? I was sure that everything should have been the other way around!
Soon Victor came down to us. He breathed heavily, looked at the bear, and then I saw concern in his eyes. He suddenly fell to his knees and almost howled like a wolf:
- My God, we killed irkuyem! Soon, we all die.
It didn’t look like a joke. I looked at him and saw in his eyes an unspeakable horror!!!
– We have released an evil spirit! A curse is hanging over us!”
I felt a little uneasy. Shemaev stood motionless and did nothing.
What was next? Man is often turns out to be a hostage of the conventions created by himself. The men could not, although they really wanted to, to leave such a prey, they simply had no right to do so. I didn't really believe in all these fairy tales, and I wouldn't have understood them if they hadn't skinned the trophy.
So we stood for a while, and didn't look into each other's eyes, then Viktor butchered the trophy tearfully.
Then there was a long road on snowmobiles to the tent camp…
P.S. In the year that had passed since that hunt in Kamchatka, a number of events happened that placed a heavy burden on our destinies. I got to the intensive care unit of one of the clinics in Moscow, and was on the verge of life and death. Fortunately, I was discharged a month later. In the same year, Shemaev was hospitalized in Moscow in a very serious condition – stomach cancer. He was operated, then there was a long treatment, rehabilitation in Palan for a year - he survived.
Victor died.
We all know that everything is not so simple in this world. We certainly don't know what else fate has in store for us. Let's hope for the best.
