The Cougar 147 



but the storm was evidently almost over; the 

 leaves were all off the trees and bushes; and 

 I felt that next day there would be such a 

 chance to follow the cougar as fate rarely 

 offered. In the morning by dawn I was at 

 the bottom, and speedily found his trail. Fol 

 lowing it I came across his bed, among some 

 cedars in a dark, steep gorge, where the 

 buttes bordered the bottom. He had evidently 

 just left it, and I followed his tracks all day. 

 But I never caught a glimpse of him, and late 

 in the afternoon I trudged wearily homeward. 

 When I went out next morning I found that 

 as soon as I abandoned the chase, my quarry, 

 according to the uncanny habit sometimes 

 displayed by his kind, coolly turned likewise, 

 and deliberately dogged my footsteps to with 

 in a mile of the ranch house; his round foot 

 prints being as clear as writing in the snow. 



This was the best chance of the kind that 

 I ever ha d; but again and again I have found 

 fresh signs of cougar, such as a lair which 

 they had just left, game they had killed, or 

 one of our venison caches which they had 

 robbed, and have hunte d for them all day 

 without success. My failures were doubtless 

 Hue in part to various shortcomings in hun 

 ter Vcraft on my own part; but equally with- 



