THE COUGAR. 125 



I never caught a glimpse of him, and late in 

 the afternoon I trudged wearily homewards. 

 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 had ; 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 hunted for them 

 all day without success. My failures were 

 doubtless due in part to various shortcomings 

 in hunter's-craft on my own part ; but equally 

 without doubt they were mainly due to the 

 quarry's wariness and its sneaking ways. 



I have seen a wild cougar alive but twice, 

 and both times by chance. On one occasion 

 one of my men, Merrifield, and I surprised 

 one eating a skunk in a bullberry patch ; and 

 by our own bungling frightened it away from 

 its unsavory repast without getting a shot. 



On the other occasion luck befriended me. 

 I was with a pack train in the Rockies, and 

 one day, feeling lazy, and as we had no meat 

 in camp, I determined to try for deer by 

 lying in wait beside a recently travelled game 

 trail. The spot I chose was a steep, pine- 

 clad slope leading down to a little mountain 

 lake. I hid behind a breastwork of rotten 

 4s 



