PANTHER HUNTING BY AMATEURS 



117 



away. Patiently wc waited in the dim 

 moonlight for our quarry, but he came 

 not. An hour passed, and we became 

 uneasy through the constant vigil. A 

 pull from the dram flask encouraged us 

 somewhat and we waited on. Finally 

 we gave up hope of getting the panther 

 that night and sorrowfully made our 

 way back to camp. The fire was blaz- 

 ing brightly as we approached camp, 

 revealing several forms seated around, 

 which betokened visitors. On entering 

 the circle of light the horse-laughs that 

 greeted us were long and loud. The 

 visitors proved to be Mr. B., who owned 

 the nearest ranch, and his two sons. 

 Noticing my crestfallen appearance, 

 Mr. B. took me in hand and gave me 

 an insight of a panther's habits. Said 

 he : A panther prefers to be his own 

 butcher, for he is very fond of fresh 

 blood. If he eats the meat it is general- 

 ly the saddle — no tough parts for him. 

 Now, I'll tell you what I will do There 

 is a lively young billygoat at the ranch 

 which I will send you to-morrow morn- 

 ing. Stake him out in the vicinity of 

 where you saw the panther, and if one 

 is in the neighborhood the kid will draw 

 him. 



This proposition struck me immense- 

 ly, as it did all our party, and I imme- 

 diately mixed a toddy for all around, 

 which we drank to the success of the 

 new scheme, and then our visitors de- 

 parted. On retiring that night Mickey 

 was lulled to sleep by words from us 

 that I am sure he never heard in his 

 childhood days on similar occasions. 



Next morning along came a Mexican 

 from the ranch with the goat, and a 

 very frisky little fellow he was. He 

 soon chased our dogs out of camp and 

 proceeded to make himself generally 

 disagreeable. Mickey happened to be 

 engaged in scrubbing some pots in a 

 stooping position, and the goat, seeing 

 an opportunity, collided with him so 

 violently that he remembered the inci- 

 dent many days afterward every time 

 he sat down. It took our combined ef- 

 forts to keep Mickey, who was mad 

 clear through, from killing the goat 



right there. Along in the afternoon the 

 B. boys came into camp with their 

 Winchesters, and shortly before dark 

 our party started out with the goat. We 

 made much better time this night, and 

 it was not long before Billy unwillingly 

 took his position as decoy and we re- 

 tired to cover. We had waited, per- 

 haps, half an hour with no sign of our 

 prey when, of a sudden, Billy began to 

 bleat loudly and tugged at his rope vio- 

 lently. A cloud obscured the moon, 

 shutting out Billy from view, but I 

 knew that something was about to hap- 

 pen, for I felt my old enemy, the buck 

 fever, creeping on me. In a few mo- 

 ments the cloud passed and the moon 

 again shone brightly, revealing to my 

 benumbed senses a long yellow body 

 crawling almost on his belly, his tail 

 moving slowly from side to side, his 

 eyes blazing like a cat's, and heading 

 straight for the goat. Suddenly a shot 

 rang out on my left ; then an irregular 

 volley, my contribution being given with 

 both eyes firmly closed. When the 

 smoke cleared away there, with his 

 youthful whisker pointing straight to 

 the moon, was poor Billy giving his last 

 kicks, while away toward the open prai- 

 rie a yellow streak marked the course 

 of the frightened panther putting yards 

 of territory behind him at every bound. 

 It would indeed be a hard matter to pic- 

 ture the countenances as we stood 

 around, ready to blame each other for 

 the bungling. A post-mortem was held 

 over the goat, and it revealed the fact 

 that deceased came to his death by a 40- 

 82 bullet fired from a model 1886 Win- 

 chester rifle, and all eyes were imme- 

 diately turned on Mickey, who handled 

 that rifle. He stoutly denied deliber- 

 ately killing, but a knowledge of his be- 

 ing a sharpshooter in the U. S. Army 

 for many years, coupled with the inci- 

 dent of the morning, made the crime a 

 first degree one, and a hasty assembled 

 court-martial sentenced him to give the 

 goat a decent burial and do camp chores 

 for the remainder of the hunt. Both 

 were faithfully executed, and even now, 

 should any huntsman or traveler happen 



