THE PAMPAS OF PATAGONIA. 23 



they gave up the pursuit of themselves. In many dis- 

 tricts cavies and foxes were so numerous that unless 

 laid on the hounds took no notice of them. 



Once in the neighbourhood of the cordillera I came 

 across an old red wolf (Canis magellanicus) and laid on 

 the dogs. The wolf held his ground, making no attempt 

 to run, and fought so gallantly that I tried to call off 

 the dogs not without their scars but before I could 

 make them obey one of the hounds, and also the old 

 wolf, had been so severely hurt that it was too late, and 

 he went down snarling and snapping to the last. 



I have always regretted my bad luck with regard to 

 pumas during my time in Patagonia, for, although I 

 frequently heard them in the night about the camp, by 

 day I saw but two. One of these, a really magnificent 

 male, with any luck I ought to have killed, but as I 

 dismounted, and before I could disengage my rifle, he 

 galloped off. 



I then tried to mount, intending to ride the puma 

 down, but my horse became unmanageable, and before 

 I could quiet him the puma disappeared into some 

 dense scrub, in which I failed to find him again. 



Seeing pumas is largely a matter of luck, for the 

 stony hills and bushy country in which they abound offer 

 endless hiding places, of which this distinctly cowardly 

 animal takes full advantage. Again and again I wished 

 I had had half-a-dozen good terriers or mongrels with 

 me, for not one of the hounds or collies would take the 

 trail of a puma, though generally ready enough to bustle 

 a fox out of a thicket. With a pack of suitable dogs I 

 believe excellent sport might be had with pumas, though 

 it is certainly the poorest-spirited of all the great cats. 

 Captain Musters tells how an Indian will attack a puma 



