The Black River Bull In 1963, the NL Government, under Joseph Smallwood at the time, decided to broaden the economy of NL. In collaboration with a rancher, Harold Lees of Kisbey Saskatchewan they brought in 125 head of hefford cattle to the boot of the peninsula to see how they might adapt to our climate and terraine. They survived the winter in good shape so the following year a further 1000 head were brought in and were fed and grazed all over the boot area from just North of Garnish on up the boot to the Grand Bank/Lamaline area. These animals were quite large and had very impressive horns. By 1966 the ranch was in financial trouble and many of the cattle had drifted off and were starving, poached and lost. In 1966, my friend Jerry and I, were on a salmon fishing trip in to Black River which runs from in back of Marystown to join up with Garnish river and reaches the sea in Garnish. At that time we had to walk in from Garnish Pond across some bogs, streams and woods for about five miles to reach the pools on the upper Black River. Jerry and I left early in the morning and by approx. 9 a.m. we were about halfway in to the river. As we were crossing a small marsh, I looked ahead and saw a large bull just ahead to the right. I pointed him out to Jerry and, being a bit of a joker, he laughed and started mooing at the animal. This alarmed me and I suggested that Jerry "shut up or he would have the damn thing chasing us." Jerry laughed and mooed again. I was walking faster, heading for some large trees when Jerry passed me running hard. I figured he was kidding with me again, but when I looked over my shoulder it was to see the bull with VERY LARGE, SHARP AND WIDE HORNS charging across the bog at me, just like one of those Spanish bullfighting scenes. I wasn't long catching up to Jerry and we reached the trees just in time. I looked back and the bull was gone. Had just disappeared. What a relief. We stuck around in the trees for awhile and then decided that we were safe to continue on to the river. We walked for awhile and then came to another bog. Looking around and seeing no sign of the animal we started across. We were about halfway to the other side when the trees burst open behind us and the bull charged again. This was getting scary, now the animal was hunting us. I hit it with rocks as big as a grapefruit, and that really pissed it off. It chased us until we made it to the trees again and then, like before, disappeared. This happened several more times with Jerry and I just getting away each time and showed no sign of letting up. We were getting scared witless. I knew pretty much where we were and that Garnish Pond was of to the south about four or five hundred yards so I came up with a plan. I knew that Merle Evans and some of his friends were rowing up across the pond intending to go fishing where Black River emptied into the pond. I suggested to Jerry that we move down to the edge of the pond and wave Merle down and get a ride in with them in boat, so this is what we decided to do. We eventually made it to the pond after several more encounters with our nemesis, and he eventually chased us up two trees near the water. We found ourselves in a cove around two hundred yards wide and realized we would have to get across it to the point if we were to get Merle's attention. The bull was trying to knock the trees down and looked as if he would eventually succeed. As I was waving around in the top of my tree I had another idea. I would swim across the pond to the point to get the boat's attention. As the bull was going from my tree to Jerry's and then back to me, I shucked off my rubbers, jacket and pants while up in the tree. When he went back to Jerry I jumped from the tree to the ground and ran for the water. I could hear Jerry screaming that he was coming, so when I reached the side of the pond I charged out until it was deep enough to swim and boy did I swim. I didn't look back, but I could hear him splashing behind me. I think I probably could have made the Olympics with the time I made crossing that cove, and cross it I did. When I reached the other shore I looked back but couldn't see Jerry or the bull, so I shouted that I was going out on the point to see if Merle was near. I got out to the point and was just in time to see Merle and his group just a few hundred yards away. I took of my undershirt to wave over my head and, standing there in just a pair of shorts, started yelling for help. Merle and the boys came to shore and were somewhat amazed to see me there in the state I was in but after hearing my story agreed to go in and pick up Jerry. When we had rowed in to Jerry we found him down out of the tree picking up my clothes and gear and, while still looking a bit peaked, he was laughing. I asked him what happened to the bull and this is what he told me. Jerry said that the bull had chased me out into the water but seemed not to like the mud he got into as he went further out so stopped and then came back to threaten his tree again. A short while later Jerry said the bull's head went up as if he was listening then Jerry started to hear voices up on the trail that we had been on. In a little while it became clear that it was a group coming out from the river. By the sound of the voices a group of Englishmen, probably part of the contingent employed at the shipyard, were passing by laughing and carrying on as they walked along. By this time the bull had headed of up through the woods towards the trail. About five minutes later he heard the laughs and conversation change to screams and shouts of alarm as the bull arrived on the scene. He said the last he heard was the shouts and screams fading off into the distance and a short while later we rowed the boat into the cove. Well, I had worked with a few Englishmen and some were a bit hard to take but after that morning I decided that we were square. I got dried off as best I could and then dressed and we went on to the river with Merle and his group. We spent a few hours fishing, but when the boys decided they were finished for the day Jerry and I quickly decided to join them in the boat on the way out rather than to walk out the trail and take a chance on meeting the bull again. We had a few laughs over the experience over the next months and years, but for the longest time whenever I went into a club where Merle or any of the boys were I swear I could hear someone going, "mooooo."   Submitted By: Gordon Mayo