Ostrander and Scioto Township History

HUSBAND

Capt. John MINTER, from Kentucky, one of the early settlers in Radnor, and brother-in-law of Col. CRAWFORD, who was burnt by the Indians, was, in his younger days, a great hunter, and became famous for a terrible bear fight, in which he came very near losing his life.  When hunting alone one day he came across a very large bear and fired at him.  The bear fell, and reloading his gun MINTER advanced, supposing him dead, and touched his nose with the muzzle of the gun, when he instantly reared upon his hind legs to seize him.  MINTER fired again, which increased his rage, only inflicting a flesh wound, and then threw his hatchet at him; and as the bear sprang forward to grasp him he struck him with the rifle on the head with all his might, producing no other effect than shivering the gun to pieces.  Too late then to escape he drew his big knife from his sheath and made a plunge at his heart, but old Bruin, by a stroke of his paw, whirled the knife into the air, and enfolding its weaponless owner with his huge arms both rolled to the ground.

A fearful struggle then ensued between the combatants: one ruled by unvarying instinct, and the other guided by the dictates of reason.  The former depended wholly upon hugging his adversary to death, while the latter aimed at presenting his body in such positions as would best enable him to withstand the vice-like squeeze till he could loosen the grasp.  He was about six feet in height, possessing large bones and well-developed muscles, and being properly proportioned was very athletic.  The woods were open and clear of underbrush, and in their struggles they rolled in every direction.  Several times he thought the severity of the hug would finish him; but by choking the bear he would compel him to release his hold to knock off his hands, when he would recover his breath and gain a better position.  After maintaining the contest in this way several hours they, happily for him, rolled back near where his knife lay, which inspired him with buoyant hope, but he had to make many ineffectual efforts before he could tumble the bear within reach of it.  Having finally recovered it he stabbed him at every chance till he at last bled to death, only relaxing his hold when life became extinct.

He attempted to get up, but was too much exhausted, and crawling to a log, against which he leaned, his heart sickened as he contemplated the scene.  Not a rag was left on him, and over his back, arms and legs his flesh was lacerated to the bones by the claws of the bear.  By crawling and walking he reached home after night with no other covering than a gore of blood from head to foot.  His friends, who went out next morning to survey the ground and bring in the trophy, said the surface was torn up by them over a space of at least half an acre.  After several weeks he recovered, but he carried with him the cicatrices and welts, some of which were more than a quarter of an inch thick, till he died, which occurred about fifteen years ago.  He never desired another bear hug, but gave up hunting, and turning his attention to agriculture left his children a comfortable patrimony and a good name.  (35)