32 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 



I have never myself killed a cougar, though my 

 brother shot one in Texas, while still-hunting some 

 deer, which the cougar itself was after. It never 

 attacks a man, and even when hard pressed and 

 wounded turns to bay with extreme reluctance, and 

 at the first chance again seeks safety in flight. This 

 was certainly not the case in old times, but the nature 

 of the animal has been so changed by constant con- 

 tact with rifle-bearing hunters, that timidity toward 

 them has become a hereditary trait deeply ingrained 

 in its nature. When the continent was first settled, 

 and for long afterward, the cougar was quite as dan- 

 gerous an antagonist as the African or Indian leop- 

 ard, and would even attack men unprovoked. An 

 instance of this occurred in the annals of my moth- 

 er's family. Early in the present century one of my 

 ancestral relatives, a Georgian, moved down to the 

 wild and almost unknown country bordering on 

 Florida. His plantation was surrounded by jungles 

 in which all kinds of wild beasts swarmed. One 

 of his negroes had a sweetheart on another planta- 

 tion, and, in visiting her, instead of going by the 

 road he took a short cut through the swamps, heed- 

 less of the wild beasts, and armed only with a long 

 knife for he was a man of colossal strength, and 

 of fierce and determined temper. One night he 

 started to return late, expecting to reach the planta- 

 tion in time for his daily task on the morrow. But 

 he never reached home, and it was thought he had 

 run awtay. However, when search was made for 

 him his body was found in the path through the 



