WITH THE COUGAR HOUNDS 33 



over the cold trail of the cougar; but it was old, and ran 

 hither and thither over bare ground, so that they finally 

 lost it. The ranch was delightfully situated at the foot 

 of high wooded hills broken by cliffs, and it was pleasant 

 to reach the warm, comfortable log buildings, with their 

 clean rooms, and to revel in the abundant, smoking-hot 

 dinner, after the long, cold hours in the saddle. As every- 

 where else in the cattle country nowadays, a successful 

 effort had been made to store water on the Keystone, and 

 there were great stretches of wire fencing two improve- 

 ments entirely unknown in former days. But the fore- 

 man, William Wilson, and the two punchers or cow- 

 hands, Sabey and Collins, were of the old familiar type- 

 skilled, fearless, hardy, hard-working, with all the in- 

 telligence and self-respect that we like to claim as typical 

 of the American character at its best. All three carried 

 short saddle guns when they went abroad, and killed a 

 good many coyotes, and now and then a gray wolf. The 

 cattle were for the most part grade Herefords, very dif- 

 ferent from the wild, slab-sided, long-horned creatures 

 which covered the cattle country a score of years ago. 



The next day, January i-j-th, we got our first cougar. 

 This kind of hunting was totally different from that to 

 which I had been accustomed. In the first place, there 

 was no need of always being on the alert for a shot, as 

 it was the dogs who did the work. In the next place, 

 instead of continually scanning the landscape, \vhat we 

 had to do was to look down so as to be sure not to pass 

 over any tracks; for frequently a cold trail would be in- 

 dicated so faintly that the dogs themselves might pass it 



