I've seen grizzlies bite hunks out o' trees an' scratch 'em just as a cat might, an' in the summer when they get itchy an' begin to lose their hair they stand up an' rub against trees.

They rub because they itch an' not because they're leavin' their cards for other bears.

Caribou an' moose an' deer do the same thing to get the velvet off their horns.
"Them same writers think every grizzly has his own range, an' they don't--not by a long shot they don't! I've seen eight full-grown grizzlies feedin' on the same slide! You remember, two years ago, we shot four grizzlies in a little valley that wasn't a mile long.

Now an' then there's a boss among grizzlies, like this fellow we're after, but even he ain't got his range alone.

I'll bet there's twenty other bears in these two valleys! An' that natcherlist I had two years ago couldn't tell a grizzly's track from a black bear's track, an so 'elp me if he knew what a cinnamon was!" He took his pipe from his mouth and spat truculently into the fire, and Langdon knew that other things were coming.