Bears was never a problem, just part of the life. One did not always see them, but from nervous horses and dogs, droppings, scratches on the trees, anthills turned up side down, the dens that was easy to see in the spring snow, and from other signs, one knew that they were there, all the time.
I had birds of every kind at the farm, including white and bronze turkeys. They would often make a nest around the farm, be gone for a while, 28 days, and hatch a bunch of small ones, and come back very proudly showing them off.
This one big white turkey was not so lucky. She had a nest with about 15 eggs close to the driveway, in deep grasses and skunk cabbage. One morning I could see that disaster had struck, or rather; a bear had gotten him selves a good meal. The nest was demolished. The turkey was gone, a few feathers remained. The remains and eggs were all spread over a fairly large area. The bear had some turkey, some eggs, and mixed it with his choice of salad; skunk cabbage.
The whole site was not only a killing scene, but it was a scene of a food orgy.