Hunting in Many Lands 



intervening branches to arrest its flight, I 

 hurled that pick at those two shining eyes, 

 with a fervid wish that it might land between 

 them. My aim was true and it landed — just 

 where I cannot say, but I do know that it 

 struck home ; for, with a screech calculated to 

 freeze one's blood, and a subsequent growl, 

 the lion made off. For the rest of the mile to 

 camp I had eyes on all sides of the path at 

 once, but I was not molested. 



I have since often wondered whether hun- 

 ger or pure malice possessed that brute. Owen 

 Wister, to whom I told the story not very long 

 ago, suggested curiosity, and I am half inclined 

 to believe his interpretation; for, if hunger had 

 been the incentive, it seems as if a tap on the 

 nose with a prospecting pick would not have 

 appeased it, though the cougar's propensity 

 for following people, out of unadulterated 

 wantonness to frighten them, is well known. 

 At any rate, he showed his cowardly side 

 that trip. 



The cougar is a curious beast, capricious as 

 a woman. One day he follows his prey stealth- 

 ily until the proper opportunity for springing 

 upon it comes ; again he will race after a 

 deer in the open ; at one time he will flee at 



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