Nature runs wild around suburbs

By ROGER FRANKLIN

Like anyone who enjoys a little praise for a job well done, American environmental authorities don't mind fishing for the odd compliment.

In New York, where reporters can easily arrange a guided tour of Mother Nature's restored treasures, this inevitably involves mention of the anglers who once again dot the scenic walkway that runs along the Manhattan bank of the East River, now possibly the cleanest stretch of water for dumping a body in all of the United States.

"Can they really eat what they catch?" is the inevitable question, one that usually prompts a reply that begins with some official throat-clearing. "Well, the fish do get eaten," the official is likely to begin, "but we don't recommend it. Still too much stuff on the bottom to make the fish absolutely safe."

That polluted legacy puts the striped bass at something of an advantage over their human stalkers, who have no such protection against being attacked and, in some cases, gobbled by wild creatures newly returned to the territory from which their ancestors were eradicated long ago.

In Manhattan, muggers are still a bigger hazard, but outside the five boroughs, nature is returning, and doing so with a vengeance.

"I was looking out of the window over the sink," said Vic Clarke, a carpenter who lives on the outskirts of a small green-belt town called Greenwood Lake, 77km north of Times Square.

"So I hear this noise on the deck and lean forward to see what it is. I've got my face against the window and this big, black bear pops up and puts its nose against mine, with just a pane of glass between us. A second later, two cubs clamber up to the window ledge and also check me out.

"I shouted, 'Get the [expletive] outta here', but they just ambled up the drive and tore the trash cans open."

Until last year I had a weekend shack a few hundred metres down the road, where my wife's pride and joy was a large pond heavily populated with expensive koi carp. Then another family of fish-fanciers turned up - a mother bear and her three cubs, according to neighbours who witnessed the massacre - and treated themselves to a $300 dinner.

Human intervention drove off the bears on the first two days, but by the third visit, Mama Bear had decided her cubs needed to be taught a lesson about how humans were nothing to be afraid of. The family ignored the neighbour's racket and kept on fishing until the pond was empty.

A few fish is one thing. A child, however, is quite another, and it is reasonable to expect that sooner rather than later a youngster will be killed.

It almost happened in suburban New Jersey last month, when a young mother left her toddler unattended in the garden for a few minutes and returned to find a 136kg bear gently patting the delighted child's face with its paw.

The mother shrieked and the animal retreated to the bottom of the yard. She called the local police, who killed it with a volley of shotgun blasts.

Animal-rights activists were outraged, but the police were unapologetic. "One touch and they have to die," an officer explained.

Other than that, however, the bears can do pretty much whatever they please, and they have no shortage of defenders in the court of public opinion. For example, a New York environmental group recently convened a weekend seminar to address what it described as "alarmism about the bear menace".

Speakers said there was no need to cull the local population if humans would just be a bit more tolerant of the district's "original inhabitants". As an example of "peaceful co-existence", the programme notes featured a photo of a bushwalker strolling through a sunlit glade with a black bear marching on its hind legs beside him.

So far, the bear buffs have carried the day. Wary of the green vote, politicians have never found the courage to authorise a short hunting season, and the ursine population has continued to boom.

According to some estimates, there are now more bears, deer and coyotes in the heavily populated northeast corner of the United States than when the first white men arrived, and there are some problems that are a good deal more serious than slaughtered carp.

The deer carry the ticks that spread Lyme disease, a crippling ailment of the joints that is now endemic along the east coast. Coyotes are making off with the odd cat and household pet.

And the bears? Well, an eastern bear has yet to kill an elderly woman inside her home, as happened in Arizona, but hunt advocates insist it is only a question of time.

The proof, they say, is Florida, where laws protecting alligators have led to a plague of the creatures. Again, environmentalists insist the 'gators have every right to live happy and untroubled lives.

But then again, so did 13-year-old Bryan Griffin, who dived into a lake near his home three weeks ago and was promptly dragged to his death by a large 'gator. Bears are a lot cuter than alligators, especially the cubs.

But dead kids are never attractive. Fingers are crossed that the bear season passes without finding any.