FOREST AND STREAM. 
[May 12, 1906. 

A Mountain Lion in Montana. 
BY DAVID ROSS. 
In December, 1904, after talking for weeks 
about going deer hunting, Mr. Charles Smithers, 
of Kalispell, and I, finally decided to go up the 
north fork of the Flathead River, to a point 
about fifty miles northeast of Kalispell. 
We started from Belton. It was cold, 8° 
above zero, and snowing hard. A twenty-mile 
ride was before us; but as the road lay through 
the woods there was no wind to chill us and, 
being warmly dressed, with an occasional walk 
to warm our feet, we did not suffer from the 
cold. From Belton to Lake McDonald the 
road is level; but after crossing McDonald 
Creek, the road goes up with a steady climb 
for three or four miles until an altitude of 
4,000 feet is reached, then down for a way, until 
Camas Creek is reached. The stream was frozen 
over and strong enough to bear up our horses; 
we got off and led them across. Up to this 
point we had had deep snow and hard hills, but 
after crossing Camas Creek, everything seemed 
to change. There was very little snow, and the 
road was level, winding through a dense growth 
of fir trees. The ride had been an enchanting 
one, the trees laden with snow, the road winding 
here and there, and we were in constant ex- 
pectation of seeing deer. Tracks were thick 
on all sides, but no game was seen. ; 
Soon a large two-story log house hove in 
view with twinkling lights shining through the 
windows—a welcome sight. We were met by 
Billy Adair and were soon seated by a roaring 
fire. It was reported the prospects of getting 
deer were discouraging. There were lots of 
signs, but the snow was crusted and so noisy, 
that no deer had been shot for two weeks. 
We were up early the next morning, though 
it does not begin to get light in that latitude 
until 8 o’clock, but shortly after that hour we 
started. Getting into the woods, we soon 
separated, Mr. Smithers and our man going 
together in one direction, and Billy Adair and I 
in another, We had not gone far, when I saw 
a deer about a hundred yards ahead, but it was 
out of sight the instant I saw it, disappearing 
among some thick firs. We hunted high and 
low, through thickets of pine and fir, among 
fallen logs, down ravines, up over hills and 
through open timber, but to no purpose; the 
snow was too noisy and the game could hear us 
and disappear long before we came in sight of it. 
We hunted until 1 o’clock, when, coming to 
a little opening along a game trail, we decided 
to stop and eat our lunch. Spying a fallen log 
under a small, thick-branched fir tree, which 
had kept the snow off of the log close to the 
tree, I selected that for a seat and invited Billy 
to have a seat there, too, telling him not to 
forget to bring his gun, which he had set down 
alongside of a dead tree. He said that as the 
snow was dry he would sit on the ground and 
proceeded to stretch himself out at full length 
about two or three paces from me, with his back 
against the dead snag, against which he had 
leaned his gun, and began to eat his lunch. I 
took my seat on the log under the small fir, 
being screened from view by the branches, 
through which I could plainly see in every direc- 
tion. I sat facing Billy, who sat with his left side 
and back toward me, sitting sideways to me, as it 
were. I had placed my gun against the log at 
my left hand and within reach. Billy was in 
the act of taking the last mouthful of his lunch 
and I had about half finished mine, my gaze 
being directed to the ‘left and through the 
branches of the fir under which I was sitting, 
when suddenly, without a second’s warning, a 
yellow streak came through the bushes about 
forty feet away and made directly for Billy. 
My first thought was, “Whose big, yellow dog 
is that?” my next was, “It is a coyote.” By that 
time the animal had got within ten feet of Billy 
and charging him full tilt, when I heard him 
yell, “My, God, look at that!” That turned the 
beast, arid I saw it was a lion, and a big one. 
It turned sharp to the right (our left), and 
started up a slight rise above us. I did not 
see Billy all of this time, my gaze being fixed 
on the animal, but he had got hold of his gun 
and, as the lion went up the rise, fired, break- 
ing its left hind leg. The lion turned sharp 
around, bringing its body into full view of me, 
its head and neck hidden behind a clump of 
bushes, its tail up in the air stiff as a poker with 
the tip of it working up and down, standing in 
the attitude of a cat watching a mouse and just 
in the act of springing upon it. The lion’s 
right side being exposed to my view, without 
rising from my seat, I took a steady aim and 
fired, sending a .30-30 bullet through its heart. 
As I fired, the beast pitched forward behind the 
bushes which had hidden its head from my view. 
I could see nothing but its tail, which kept work- 
ing. I threw another cartridge into my gun and 
fired again through the brush. 
We went up to the spot where it had fallen 
and found that the animal had made off, leaving 
a bloody trail behind it. Following her trail 
about a hundred yards down over a steep place, 
we came upon her stretched out at full length 
under a couple of thick branched fir trees, which 
formed a sort of a copse over her. We ap- 
proached cautiously, and seeing no signs of life, 
I touched her with my foot. As she did not 
move, we took hold of her tail and hind foot and 
dragged her out, first shaking hands and con- 
gratulating ourselves over Billy’s escape, and my 
good luck in bringing her down. Upon exam- 
ination we found we had killed a female lion eight 
feet long:and weighing about 200 pounds. Skin- 
ning her out we found her to be fat as butter 
and in prime condition. Deer hunting was called 
off for that day, and, tying the skin up with the 
head still on, laying our course by compass, we 
started to thread our way out of the woods, well 
satisfied with the day’s hunting. We were con- 
gratulated on all sides when we reached home, 
and to different ones coming in, I had to exhibit 
the skin and tell over and over again the story 
of our adventure. 
From the time we first saw the lion until I 
sent the bullet through her heart, not more than 
ten seconds of time elapsed. I am not conscious 
of having picked my gun up at all. Everything 
seemed to have been done by instinct. The first 
thing I-can recall is when I had my gun to my 
shoulder with a bead on the lion behind her 
shoulder, I could see her standing with her tail 
stiff in the air and seemingly crouched for a 
spring. I do not think she ever saw me, but gave 
her entire attention to Billy. It is possible that 
as he had hunted in those woods before, she had 
seen him repeatedly, and recognizing him as her 
arch enemy, had it in for him. It might be also 
that coming on him unawares and lying down 
she mistook him for a deer and made for him, 
and when he shouted to me in the way he did, it 
startled her and she tried to get away. After it 
was all over Billy got nervous and kept watching 
the woods for her mate, which he thought might 
be lurking around. That night I dreamed a lion 
tried to jump on me while I was in bed and I 
shouted out, “Get out of there,’ so loud that. it 
awakened everyone in the house, even to those 
sleeping downstairs. and they all laughingly asked 
me if I got the licn. , 
The next morning Mr. Smithers decided to go 
home, but I concluded to stay, as I had never 
killed a deer and I had come too far to go back 
without one, Billy and I and our man mounted 
the horses and started for Quartz Creek, about 
six miles further north. We could not take the 
horses across but crossed it on foot and hunted 
all day but to no purpose. However, I enjoyed 
the day, as the woods were beautiful and the 
traveling easy. Night found me tired, however, 
and I retired early, with hopes of the morrow, as 
snow was falling thick and fast, and that meant 
still-hunting. . 
Thursday morning it was raining with a cold 
steady rain and I decided to return home. Start- 
ing off alone I had proceeded about two miles 
when I spied a big deer standing off to one side 
of the road within easy range. To slide off of 
my horse on the opposite side from the deer and 
get my gun out of the scabbard was the work of 
but a moment. Taking aim across the shoulders 
of the horse I fired; at the crack of the gun the 
deer ran and with it another one. Seeing they 
would cross the road and go through an opening 
a short distance ahead, I threw another cartridge 
into my gun and waited; as the second deer crossed 
the opening I took aim at it and fired. Both of 
them kept on up over a little knoll, and the last 
I saw of them were their flags raised in the air 
as they passed out of sight, and I felt the keen 
disappointment of one who has missed. 
Nothing daunted, I mounted my horse and rode 
up to the place where I saw them last, and much 
to my delight found both deer lying within thirty 
feet of each other stone dead, the first one shot 
through the middle of the back, the second deer 
with its throat cut by the bullet and neck broken 
about six inches above the breast. 
Before my man arrived I had both deer dressed 
and packed full of snow. I then mounted my. 
horse and rode back to meet him. We soon had 
both deer packed on the horse. Going on about 
a mile further I saw two more deer within easy 
shooting distance, but having all one horse could 
well carry and no pack saddle for another, and 
it being eighteen miles to the railroad, I did not 
try to get them, The rain poured down steadily 
the rest of the day, and in spite of my slicker 
and rubbers, when I arrived at Belton I was wet 
to the skin. 
Newfoundland Game and Fish Report. 
THE annual report of the Department oi 
Marine and Fisheries of Newfoundland for the 
year 1905 is just received. Of the game, it is 
said that ‘‘willow grouse,” or ptarmigan, were 
only fairly abundant during the shooting season, 
and it is recommended that a close season be 
established for the -species, in order to see 
whether the birds will not increase. Us 
In 1903 a law was passed permitting the 
slaughter of hares all the year around, and the 
result there has been a marked diminution in the 
number of these animals. Merchants, who a few 
years ago used to receive for sale 20,000 hares 
every spring, state that this season the number 
was reduced to less than 5,000. Hares furnish a 
valuable food for the poor of the colony, and 
should not be killed during the summer or the 
breeding season. 
Notwithstanding the terrible slaughter of deer » 
which took place in 1904, reports indicate that 
caribou are still very numerous, The spring and 
fall migrations, during which so many animals 
are killed, still take place; but it is declared that 
there are large herds of caribou which do not 
join these migrations, remaining all the year 
around on their feeding ground and moving only 
slightly as food becomes scarce. It has been pro- 
posed by some visiting sportsmen that the law 
should be amended permitting the killing of five 
bull caribou and no cows. 
The report recommends strongly the introduc- 
tion of moose into the colony. It is believed that 
they would do well and flourish. 
