TO ALERT BAY 85 



experience of a Vancouver forest. A cougar 

 had been killing cattle in the immediate 

 neighbourhood, and Smith's and Dick's ser- 

 vices were requisitioned to bring him to book. 



Crossing the river, we were soon in the 

 densest and most impenetrable undergrowth 

 I ever attempted to crawl through. We were 

 shown the spot where the last kill had taken 

 place, and though we spent till dusk scrambling 

 over and under fallen trees and through a tangle 

 of undergrowth, unable to see five yards ahead, 

 Dick could find no trace of the cougar. It 

 had been raining in the morning, so we were 

 all wet to the skin, as forcing our way through 

 the undergrowth was like taking a shower 

 bath. Hunting the cougar is, in my opinion, 

 unworthy of the name of sport. Success 

 depends on having a good dog to follow up 

 the cougar by scent and to drive him up a 

 tree, when the hunter comes up and pots him. 

 Why such a powerful animal — for he is as big 

 as a panther — should be such a coward, I 

 cannot understand. I never heard while on 

 the coast of a single case where the cougar 

 attacked a man. The dog he sometimes goes 

 for, and Dick had been once severely mauled. 



I confess my first attempt at hunting in 

 the Vancouver forest was most disappointing, 

 as I had formed no idea of the nature of the 



