By Caleb McClain
Modern bowhunting culture can get painfully technical and lame with ridiculous speed. Jump into any forum and you’ll be bombarded with endless debates: mechanical vs. fixed-blade broadheads, recurves vs. compounds, single vs. double bevels, arrow speed, FOC, draw weight, let-off, and which brand reigns supreme. And don’t even think about mentioning crossbows or you’ll be tarred, feathered, and digitally exiled faster than if you’d yelled “God save the King!” at the signing of the Declaration of Independence.
Somewhere between the primitive roots of archery and today’s Sitka-clad keyboard warriors who do not believe a two-year-old bow would still be capable of killing a whitetail, there was a man who hunted with a bow simply because he loved it. His name was Fred Bear.
When Fred Bear opened shop in 1933, guns had already claimed the American hunting scene. Firearms like the Winchester Model 1894 and the Savage 1920 were household accessories from Maine to California. Bowhunting was seen as an outdated relic of the past. Still, the former Ford Motor Company woodworker had a different vision. He didn’t just want to hunt with a bow. He wanted to make bowhunting cool again.
Fred Bear: Bowhunting Legend
Throughout the 1940s, Bear began filming his hunts, showcasing the adventure and challenge of taking game with a stick and string. His passion took him far beyond the Michigan whitetail woods. By 1955, he was stalking dangerous game across Africa, taking lions, Cape buffalo, and even an elephant, all with archery equipment.
But one opportunity would set him apart from anyone else in modern hunting history. In 1963, Fred Bear was invited to do what no one had done in modern times; he would kill a tiger with a bow.
The journey began in Delhi, where Bear toured the city before traveling 300 miles south to the remote village of Phoolsagar. There, he met his host and guide, the Maharaja of Bundi. The prince was a seasoned hunter himself, and his trophy room, filled with big cats and crocodiles, set the tone for what would come.
But by the 1960s, tigers were already becoming rare due to heavy hunting, revenge killing, and poaching. It would potentially be a week or more before the scouts found one, so Bear and the Maharaja focused on other game first. He took a respectable nilgai bull after stalking it through the dry-season brush, then added sambar and axis deer to his bag. He also made a few failed attempts at the elusive chinkara, the Indian gazelle, but they all spooked as soon as the arrows left the string. Then, finally came word: a tiger had been found. They abandoned the chinkara, and the hunt was on.
The Bear Gets His Tiger
In the thick jungle, Bear and his team climbed onto wooden platforms perched above the forest floor. Beaters encircled the area, shouting and firing shots into the air to drive the tiger forward. The tiger broke into the open, fleeing toward Bear.
As it closed in, he nervously drew his bow and fired. The brush came alive with the screams of a wounded cat. Then silence. The tiger was dead.
Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. Before they left, the Maharaja honored Bear with a 300-year-old knife to commemorate their hunt and friendship.
Today, both the tiger and the ceremonial knife can be seen on display at Bass Pro Shops in Orlando. They’re a testament not only to Fred Bear’s skill, but to a time when bowhunting was about adventure over the gear, stats, and online debates. So log off the forms, get outside, and hunt like Fred.
