214 DENIZENS OF THE DESERT 



it necessary to keep the closest watch on his 

 tame cat, especially at night. To ensure her a 

 safe retreat he had a hole cut in the door of his 

 house just large enough for her to pass through, 

 but too small for the lynxes. The dog when 

 annoyed sought shelter up in the attic of the 

 small shanty, a crude stairway leading up to 

 the door outside affording him a means of 

 getting up. This man had lost several cats in 

 the past and his small dog had had enough 

 scratches to make him scramble upstairs to 

 the attic upon the first good hiss from a wild cat. 

 At Indian Springs Ranch, in Southwestern 

 Nevada, a desert lynx had a few days before my 

 arrival played havoc with a whole flock of 

 domestic fowls, killing in all some twenty 

 blooded chickens — and this in one night. The 

 animal had been crawling over the roof of the 

 rather poorly constructed coop and unluckily 

 fell through the rotted shingles plump into the 

 midst of the whole pen of roosting fowls. 

 Frightened, no doubt, and angry because he 

 could not find his way out, he killed every 

 hen within reach. The proprietor of the ranch 

 found him still imprisoned next morning, and a 



