First time I'd ever seen figs that weren't in those abominable cookies (fig newtons), was at an old cabin site in the Sierras. The cabin had burnt. A water pipe came from a spring a hundred or two feet up the mountain, and fed a cattle trough of a couple hundred gallons. Over flow watered the fig tree and a lot of wild blackberries.
Those tree-ripened figs were glorious! They bear no resemblance to fig newtons - and that was the best thing about them. I really enjoyed them. Blackberries were good too.
My deer hinting partner, a fellow from Missouri, drawled, "I wonder who's grazing cows up here?" We were at about 4,000 feet elevation, as I remember. I asked what made him think there were any cattle around?
"All those cow pies out there." I asked if he'd seen any hoof prints in the mud? Silence for a bit. Then, realization.
"Do you suppose a bear could make it through the wall of our teepee?"