Mountain Lions 
DEAR Forest & STREAM: 
[‘ the winter of 1905 we had early 
snow. By the end of November 
there were two feet, and snow-shoes 
were necessary for travel in December. 
I was stationed at the head of Lake 
McDonald, now part of Glacier Na- 
tional Park, and had orders to esti- 
mate the timber in my district. I 
started the work on McDonald Creek 
and along the slopes of Mt. Stanton and 
Mt. McPartland. This was a great 
place for mule deer to hang out all win- 
ter. The benches and cliffs extend down 
into the timber and with deep snow 
the mountain goats come down there. 
I have seen goats and mule deer sev- 
eral times not more than a few hun- 
dred feet apart. JI ran across lion 
tracks the first day, and found the re- 
mains of two deer killed by them. After 
finding another the second day, I de- 
cided to bring a couple of number four 
steel traps, which I set around the car- 
cass in hope of catching the marauder. 
During that day, at the foot of the 
cliffs, I found where coyotes and a lynx 
had been digging to get at a goat killed 
by the lions. 
In one more day I finished the work 
on this mountain, but continued to use 
the same snow-shoe trail coming to and 
going from work. The next morning I 
was prepared to shoot my lion in the 
trap, but there was only a coyote. Com- 
ing home that evening, I passed the 
trap to take my coyote hide, and saw 
where a couple of lions had come close 
to the traps during the day, but a raven 
got ahead of them and got caught in 
the trap. Cursing my luck, I set the 
trap again, but during the next few 
days nothing showed up. Then I caught 
a lynx, then drew ciphers for a num- 
ber of days. 
On Sunday I went out on this moun- 
tain to get my deer, thinking the lions 
might get them all if I waited longer. 
The hunting season was open at that 
time until January 1, and the limit was 
three deer. I could stir up nothing. 
The lions had them scattered all over 
the mountain, and they were very wild. 
Several goats showed themselves, but 
I did not care to eat them unless I had 
to. I found several more carcasses of 
deer killed by the lions near a thirty- 
foot cliff where a well-used runway in 
dense maple brush passed right under 
a bench along the margin of which was 
a fairly dense growth of fir trees. The 
deer were browsing heavily on maple 
at this time of the year. I shifted my 
traps to the last killing, but got only 
a coyote. 
Another week went by and no lions. 
As the season was getting late, I was 
determined to get my deer soon, for 
Page 671 
otherwise I would have to go down to 
Belton for meat, a distance of 15 miles. 
When Sunday came, the wind and 
clouds suggested more snow. After 
finding my traps empty, I made a big 
circle onto the cliffs and worked down 
to the lower benches, against the wind. 
All of a sudden my eye caught a grey 
or brownish object, apparently a deer 
lying down. To make sure of my shot, 
I got as close as possible. Things did 
not look right. I could not see the big 
ears. Taking advantage of a few 
friendly bushes, I got closer. Imagine 
my surprise at discovering a big moun- 
tain lion lying on the edge of the cliff 
right above my deer trail, looking right 
at me. The movement I had seen was 
the end of his tail, just like a house 
cat ready to spring at a mouse. I shot. 
He jumped, hitting the ground at the 
foot of the cliff with a snarl and scream. 
I shot quickly once more to make sure 
he was my lion. Five or six deer ran 
away. My first shot had pierced the 
lion’s nose and come out the side of his 
chest. He had seen the deer coming 
on the trail and was so interested lying 
in wait to spring on them that he had 
not seen me, and I was so interested in 
stalking him that I had not seen the 
deer. 
I skinned my big tom-cat, took the 
hide home, and during the night we 
had more snow. Visiting the place next 
day, I saw where his mate had come 
right to the carcass, but had not eaten 
from it. She evidently left the country, 
for I never saw her tracks again. These 
two lions had that band of deer just 
scared to death. From about 25, the 
number in three weeks dwindled down 
to about 6. And besides this, a num- 
ber of goats had been killed. 
FRANK E. LIEBIG, 
U.S. Forest Ranger, 
Kalispel, Mont. 
What Does a Shovel Head Look 
Like P 
DEAR ForEST & STREAM: 
HE picture of a large cat fish on 
page 546 of the September issue of 
ForEST AND STREAM causes me to seek 
some information. Now I have 
slammed lead and tackle into the surf 
up and down the Atlantic coast quite 
a bit—have caught as many skate, ham- 
merhead, sand and blue shark, sewer 
trout and every darned thing that goes 
to spoil a perfect day as anyone, but 
I don’t know a thing about fresh water 
fish. 
Business called me to St. Louis, Mo., 
last winter and having a little leisure 
time on my hands I strolled down to 
the river front. As luck would have it 
some river fishermen had just towed a 
“barge” (?) load of live carp up to the 
landing and were bringing them ashore 
in special basket-like carriers. Mixed 
in among those carp were a number of 
fish of the same color and shape as our 
sand sharks, excepting that they had a 
long, broad “bill”? protruding from the 
upper jaw. They varied in length 
from 1 to 6 feet. I remarked to a man 
standing beside me that this was the 
first time I had ever seen a fresh water 
shark. 
The gentleman gave me to under- 
stand that I was gazing on a Shovel 
Head Catfish!—NOT a shark. 
Now what was that thing if the pic- 
ture mentioned above is a Shovel Head 
Cat? 
CHAS. EMMETT, 
Brooklyn, N. Y. 
[We believe that Mr. Emmett’s in- 
former was either mistaken concerning 
the identity of the fish, or was “kid- 
ding.” The fish in the September is- 
sue was a shovel head cat. A “long 
broad bill” sounds like garfish.] 

The cougar is America’s largest predatory cat 
