Out. '^7, 



FOftEST AND STREAM. 



388 



THE PANTHER'S SCREAM. 



Canton, N. Y., Oct. VI.— Editor Forest and Stream: 

 Reading the various articles in Forest anp Stream 

 about the cry of the panther brings to memory an inci- 

 dent of boyhood days. 



It was in October of 1861, and I, a lad of 18 years and 

 751bs, weight, was engaged in trapping mink. My home 

 was in Fine, a then backwoods settlement; and I trapped 

 the pond", brooks and river in that vicinity. On this day 

 I had left home before dawn, and had been setting steel 

 traps and deadfalls on a small stream that crossed and 

 recrossed the "Old Albany road." Darkness caught me 

 miles from any house or other shelter, and I sought the 

 leeward side of a small thicket of spruce and prepared to 

 pass the night as best I might. I had no blanket; such 

 an article was too heavy to carry. After felling several 

 small hardwood trees for fuel, I kindled a fire, made 

 some tea and ate my supper. I then proceeded to cut 

 wood enough to keep my fire during the night. My first 

 blow produced an unexpected echo: from directly up the 

 brook, and seemingly some dozen rods away, came a 

 scream so long, loud and blood-curdling that each separ- 

 ate hair on my head stood up on end, and my blood went 

 aounding through my veins at a better clip than ever 

 made by iSTancy Hanks. A second yell, not so loud nor" 

 long, brought me to my senses, and I picked up my 

 <)ingie barrel muz- 

 ^leioading, i>ea- 

 ihooter, and care- 

 fully examined 



t.he "GD" cap to .. 

 lee if it would re- 

 spond if needed. 

 Then I watched 

 the circle of dark- 

 ness for eyes and 

 formed my plan 

 of defense if de- 

 fense shou'd be- 

 come necessary. 

 This plan was to 

 put the fire be- 

 tween myself and 

 the owner of that 

 voice, and only to 

 fire when sure of 

 my aim. Bat no 

 eyes appeared,and 

 after waiting a 

 few minutes I laid 

 down my gun and 

 cut more wood. 

 Then building a 

 good fire I lay 

 down and went to 

 sleep. Once dur- 

 ing the night I 

 awoke with a start 

 and shivering 

 with cold, almost 

 surprised that as 

 my fire had burn- 

 ed out, I bad not 

 been eaten, I did 

 act see the owner 

 of that voice, did 

 not even look for 

 tracks— I believe I 

 was too intent up- 

 on making tracks 

 myself when day- 

 light came. But 

 on telling my ad- 

 venture to hunters 

 who had killed 

 many panthers, 

 they at once said 

 my visitor was 

 one. 



Has the reader 

 a lady friend, who 

 has a' clear, strong 

 voice, and has also 



a mortal terror of a mouser' Put her in a small room, 

 close the windows and doors, let her open a bureau 

 drawer, and have Mr. Mouse dart out almost in her face. 

 Hear her scream. It will unfasten the door, rattle the 

 windows and lift the shingles on the roof. It will fill 

 every iota of space within the room with sound, and send 

 a cold chill over you. The voice I heard that night was 

 the same, only that it was louder, and it filled the woods 

 for seemingly a mile around, Just as the woman's voice 

 would fill the room. It had a volume, depth and strength 

 not to be found in the voice of any bird or small animal. 



I have gpent much time in the wilderness and have 

 heard all the voices of the day and night, but all com- 

 bined would make but a tiny squeak beside that terrific 

 scream. I did not see the animal, hence I cannot 

 "swear" that it was a panther, but I am quite willing to 

 stake all my future luck as a hunter that it was. 



I have been acquainted with a number of men who 

 made hunting and trapping these animals a business, and 

 they tell me that the panther seldom screams, but sur- 

 prise or anger may cause him to do so. Undoubtedly 

 the average individual hears something else and calls it a 

 panther, but once be has heard that animal make his 

 best effort he will never again be mistaken nor say that 

 the panther does not scream, J. H. Rushton. 



For_ eight years it was my happy lot to pass most of my 

 time in a wilderness where panthers were occasionally 

 seen and heard. Also there were owls in plenty, and "l 

 amused myself by imitating their hootings until I could 

 deceive the birds themselves and from a distance draw 

 them near me. I then thought myself familiar with 

 about all their varying tones. I certainly had ample 

 opportunity to become so. But there was one cry some- 

 times heard in those woods that was somewhat different 

 from that of an owl, a cat or a lynx. I did not in those 

 days think myself more than an average coward, but I 

 will confess that one dark night, when I had left the 

 camp-fire to replenish the water bottle at a stream close 

 by, it was probably to my credit that no one could see 

 me for a minute or so. There was a sound in a neighbor- 

 ing thicket — that was all. When I got back to the camp, 

 my partner— he was then new to the woods — with eyes 

 bulging and a suspicious movement about the knees, was 

 grasping an axe with both hands. He asked what that 

 noise was. I told him I thought it was a devil, or per- 

 haps a dozen or two of them rolled into one. He at 

 once agreed -with me, 



Well, I heard that scream several other times later on, 

 and I can't say it sounded any sweeter. The woodsmen 

 of that vicinity are more or less familiar with it. They 

 say it is made by the panther. All I can say is that any 

 animal with that voice— be he rabbit or owl— can have 

 the whole path, so far as I am concerned. I can get 

 along very well in the bushes. 



Oaly one } in those eight years did I meet a panther in 

 his native wilds. He might have been at his best — feel- 



AFTER THE SPECKLED BEAUTIKS. 

 Kettle Creek, Potter County, Pa. Photo by Dr. J. Max Mueller. 

 (Forest and Stream Amateur Photography Competition.) 



ing particularly good over something — but to me he did 

 not look like a "sneak cat." Fked L. Ballard. 



The Panther's "Yik." 



Sprinotield, Mass., Oct 15.— I do not pretend to deny 

 "Stanatead's" statement that a panther may "yik," but I 

 am a firm believer in what he calls the myth of the 

 animal's terrible scream. It is well known that almost 

 all animals have different cries to express varying 

 emotions — the house cat and the wildcat snarl, growl 

 and shriek, and I have often heard the lynx combine all 

 sounds in a startling manner— especially when prowling 

 close by the camp-fire, and waking one out of a sound 

 aleep. 



He Saw them Scream, 

 . I have been very much interested in the articles pub- 

 lished in Forest and Stream, as to whether the panther 

 really screams or not. With your permission, I will 

 offer some evidence in favor of the scream that may be 

 interesting, 



I was born and reared in a great far South State that 

 borders the Mississippi River, and all my life I have been 

 familiar with the big game of the vast forest lying along 

 the great river from the mouth of the Arkansas to the 

 sea. I have killed, and helped to kill, perhaps twenty 

 panthers, and twice, I have seen the panther when it 

 screamed. 



Five years ago this month I was riding from a small 

 village, or rather post office, on the Sunflower River, in 

 Mississippi, to a plantation seven miles away. It was 

 late before I left the hospitable mansion of my planter 

 host, who had served in my regiment as a captain, and 

 one of the most dashing of Forrest's troopers, when his 

 lip was still as smooth as a girl's. The moon this night 

 was full, and the road was plain and untraveled, I 

 was riding a Kentucky 5-year-old, who was as intelligent 

 as a thoroughbred can be. About three miles out my 

 mare gave a start and shiver, and from the canebrake 

 that bordered each side of a small but deep bayou, there 

 came the low, deep, quavering scream that I had often 

 heard before at night when in camp in the depth of a 

 Mississippi forest. I knew it was a panther. It was 

 repeated," and the animal seemed to be moving parallel to 

 the road. The bayou made a sudden turn to the left, or 

 northward, where it was bridged by a rude but strong 

 structure of cypress logs. This bridge I had to cross. 

 Beyond it the land by the roadside was quite open, and 

 the highway stretched for a mile in a straight line. Just 

 as I was about crossing the bridge with a leap that must 



have covered 30 ft., one of the largest panthers I have 

 ever seen, sprang full into the middle of the dusty road. 

 I was not more than loyds, distant. The bright, full 

 moon shining on the white dust brought the splendid 

 figure of our greatest cat out in perfect relief. It stood 

 there, sidewise to me, for perhaps half a minute, not 

 making a move, but gently waving its long tail. Then it 

 threw back its great leonine head, and opening its mouth 

 to the lull, uttered the scream I had heard in wilderness, 

 on mountain, and in canebrake for the past thirty years. 

 Its long teeth shone white and cruel in the light of the 

 Southern moon. In a moment it was answered from the 

 rear of a cotton plantation, perhaps a mile away. Th6: 

 moist, still air of the Southern lowlands is a wonderful 

 bearer of sound. I understood at once that this was the 

 call amative which we so often hear from the prowling 

 tomcat on the woodhouse roof or rear fence. Though I 

 had a Colt's cavalry pistol in my saddle holster — for 

 nobody rides at night in this country without an arm of 

 some sort — I made no attempt to shoot. The animal 

 turned its head toward me for a second, and its great 

 eyes gleamed as with a phosphorescent light. Then it 

 leaped into the cane on the other side of the road, entered 

 the cotton field spoken of, and started toward the forest 

 at the rear of the cleared land. 



Once before I heard the angry scream of a panther, I 

 was fishing on one of the lakes in Mississippi that are 

 "cut off a" of the Mississippi. A negro man named Ben, 

 who was cutting wood near me, came up, holding a 

 young panther, about the size of an ordinary cat, but ex- 

 tremely lively. "Marse , I done foun' dis yer little 



beas' over dere in 

 de clearin': what 

 yo' reckon it is?" 

 I knew the habit 

 of the female pan- 

 ther of bringing 

 her young ones — 

 for there are hard- 

 ly ever more than 

 two- down as soon 

 as they can walk 

 from their lofty 

 birthplace in some 

 huge cypress or 

 gum, to take the 

 air and enjoy the 

 vivifying warmth 

 of the sun, I had 

 no firearm, and 

 old Ben had noth- 

 ing but an axe. 

 "I think you had 

 best put that 

 thing down on the 

 ground, Ben, and 

 leave here," I re- 

 plied, "It's a 

 young panther," 

 " De Lawd look 

 down!" said the 

 frightened darky 

 as he promply fol- 

 lowed my sugseS' 

 tion and cleared 

 out. I stepped in- 

 to my canoe and 

 pulled a hundred 

 feet away from 

 the shore, for I 

 heard the short 

 angry scream of 

 the mother pan- 

 ther a quarter of a 

 mile away. She 

 came dashing 

 through the can© 

 and brush that sur^ 

 rounded the lake, 

 making as much 

 noise as a 3-year- 

 old steer would. 

 When she reached 

 her young one she 

 fiercely nosed it 

 over to see if it 

 was injured in any 

 way. Seeing me, 



she gave a loud, fierce, angry scream, opening her mouth 

 to the full as she did it. She was in a sunny spot, and I 

 was not more than 30yds, distant in the canoe. Nothing 

 intervened, and I distinctly saw her teeth and tongue as 

 she screamed. She then seized the cub in her mouth, 

 with that firm tenderness that characterizes the mother 

 most, and started through the cane back to her lair. 



For the reasons given, and my personal observation in 

 the cases cited, I know the panther can and upon occa- 

 sion does scream. I have related my own observations 

 precisely as they occurred. Mississippi Lowlands. 



HtTSHPUCKANY, MlSS., Oct. 10. 



In his "Notes on the Panther," issue of Sept. 8, Mr. 

 Geo. H, Wyman recorded: "The female mate of the 

 captured cougar, starting apparently from the side of the 

 mountain opposite to me and a quarter of a mile away, 

 walked slowly along toward the place where her mate 

 had been killed, and all the way, at short intervals, giving 

 such terrific screams as I had never heard before, and as 

 most decidedly hurried my pace toward the house, where 

 I found the family standing in the front yard to hear the 

 same alarming screams which had startled me. Part of 

 her notes seemed those of anger and some of intense 

 grief." 



American Ornithologists' Union. 



Portland, Conn,, Oct. 6.— The tenth congress of the 

 American Ornithologists' Union will convene in Wash- 

 ington, D. C. , on Tuesday, Nov. 15, at 11 o'clock A. M. 



The meetings will be held at the U. S. National Museum. 



The reading of papers will form a prominent feature 

 of the meetings. Associate as well as active members 

 are earnestly requested to contribute, and to notify the 

 secretary before Nov. 12 as to the titles of their commu- 

 nications and the length of time required for their 

 presentation. John H. Sage, Secretary, 



