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Updated: June 17, 2025
Those of us who have roamed the wilds of the western country have had varying experiences with this animal, while others have lived their lives in districts undoubtedly infested with cougars and have never seen one, although nearly every mountain rancher has heard that hair-raising, almost human scream echo down the canyon. It is like the wail of a woman in pain.
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.
It is a thirsty brute, and if it kills far from water will often drag its victim a long distance toward a pond or stream; Colonel Rondon had once come across a horse which a jaguar had thus killed and dragged for over a mile. Jaguars also stalk and kill the deer; in this neighborhood they seemed to be less habitual deer-hunters than the cougars; whether this is generally the case I cannot say.
The smell of the raw meat excited them beyond control, and they probably could not make out clearly what the men were, as they walked bent under their burdens, with the deer skins on their backs. Evidently the cougars were only trying to get at the venison. In 1886 a cougar killed an Indian near Flathead Lake. Two Indians were hunting together on horseback when they came on the cougar.
"Snake, shore you seen a woman heah lately?" deliberately asked Wilson. "Reckon I did. Thet kid," replied Anson, dubiously. "Wal, you seen her go crazy, didn't you?" "Yes." "'An' she wasn't heah when you went huntin' fer her?" "Correct." "Wal, if thet's so, what do you want to blab about cougars for?" Wilson's argument seemed incontestable.
There were rheas ostriches and small pampas-deer on this plain; the coloration of the rheas made it difficult to see them at a distance, whereas the bright red coats of the little deer, and their uplifted flags as they ran, advertised them afar off. We also saw the footprints of cougars and of the small-toothed, big, red wolf.
These holes aren't a circumstance to what this hombre's had in him before this. Reckon he's had a habit of mixing with cougars or something like that! Here's a knife wound old." "A bayonet did that," said Solange. "Soldier, eh! Well, he's used to bullet holes and it's a good thing. Hand me something to bandage him with, some one.
Sheeping is in my blood, I reckon. What with herding and trailing the flock, what with bears, and bob-cats, and cougars, and coyotes I dinna see how it would ever be dull." "That is because you love your work, Sandy," said Mr. Clark. "I do. Take me from the ranch, sir, and blindfold me even, and I verily believe I'd find my way back again. Now a bit more about the coyotes.
As we rode up the slope of Buckskin, the sunrise glinted red-gold through the aisles of frosted pines, giving us a hunter's glad greeting. With all due respect to, and appreciation of, the breaks of the Siwash, we unanimously decided that if cougars inhabited any other section of canyon country, we preferred it, and were going to find it.
Except in the neighborhood of the Gardiner River, that is within a few miles of Mammoth Hot Springs, I found them feeding on elk, which in the Park far outnumber all other game put together, being so numerous that the ravages of the cougars are of no real damage to the herds.
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