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Updated: June 5, 2025
I made one jump sideways and let the bear have it slap through the brain, and . . . that same shot, sir, ricocheted up the face of the rock and killed the cougar just as he was in the act of springing! By George, y'know, it was one of the swiftest things that ever happened!" A tense silence succeeded the conclusion of this thrilling narrative.
Although not common, cougars are found near my ranch, where the ground is peculiarly favorable for the solitary rifleman; and for ten years I have, off and on, devoted a day or two to their pursuit; but never successfully. One December a large cougar took up his abode on a densely wooded bottom two miles above the ranch house.
He knew now that the treasures of the Annex were not for him. "It's a cougar," whispered Dick, "and it must be the king of them all. Did you ever see such a whopper?" The cougar came farther into the clearing. He was of great size, but he was a cat a huge cat, but a cat, nevertheless and like a cat he acted.
About midnight the cougar appeared, and after he had eaten his fill and gone away again the Kitten slipped down and ate some more. He was making up for lost time. For four successive nights the cougar came and feasted on venison, but after that the Kitten never saw him or heard of him again.
In Peru, on the eastern declivity of the Andes, large settlements and even villages have been abandoned solely on account of the perilous proximity of those fierce animals. In the United States, the cougar is hunted by dog and gun.
When I peeped out to see the forest in the throes of a blinding blizzard, the great pines only pale, grotesque shadows, everything white mantled in a foot of snow, I emphasized the Indian words in straight English. "Much snow cold no cougar bad!" "Stay in bed," yelled Jones. "All right," I replied. "Say Jones, have you got 'em yet?" He vouchsafed me no answer.
The distance was very slight between the two when the trigger was pulled, and the heavy bullet, tearing its way through bone and muscle, buried itself in the brain, extinguishing life with the suddenness almost of the lightning stroke. The guttural growl wound up with something like a hoarse yelp, and the cougar made what might be termed his death-leap.
Next morning, Lige decided that it would he best to move further north for cougar, they having failed to strike the trail of any on the previous day. Somehow, the dogs had lost the trail of the one that had so recently disturbed the camp, picking up the scent of the bob-cat instead. This frequently was the case, as the guide informed them while they were riding along in the fresh morning air.
"How's Roy?" queried Dale. "Lord knows I'm glad to see you, boys! Milt, you're thin an' strange-lookin'. Roy's had a little setback. He got a shock to-day an' it throwed him off. Fever an' now he's out of his head. It won't do no good for you to waste time seein' him. Take my word for it he's all right. But there's others as For the land's sakes, Milt Dale, you fetched thet cougar back!
"Is this the beast some call a panther or painter?" asked Roger. "Yes, Roger. I was reading about them in a natural history, and the cougar, mountain lion, puma, panther, and painter are all the same beast. Years ago they were common all over the United States, but now they are to be found only in the Far West and in the South.
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