Arizona silver belt., 1888-05-05
WILDCAT HUNTING.
One of the Tavorite Sports of the Dwell
 CTS in Lower California, ssTbere she is!''

One of the Favorite Sports of tho DweI1-
 CTS in Lower California,
 "There she is!''
 "Don't fire!''
 s'Givo the dogs a chance!'
 They and many other disconnected sentences came from a crowd of ladies and gentlemen who, well mounted and close upon a pack of eager hounds, were pushing into a thick patch of under brush in the center of the Arroyo Seco, Q dry canon or river just back of Passa- dena. Cal.
 Here the gulch was well filled with tall trees from whose branches there fell in rich festoons masses of wild grape and clematis that formed ropes that deftly caught riders beneath the chin, and so tied up the dogs that they often became fouled and yelped and howled in impo- tent rage. The party had started half mile below in the clearing and had fol- lowed up the eager dogs that had now treed game of some kind, and, as they gathered about the broken poplar high up in one of the branches, there appeared a long, 1.-the body clinging to the imb while over the side peered the ugly face or IllC WuGCdls GlAIllGL1Cllb AAclA OGOAA eSD fever pitch when the hounds struck the trail, but now that the animal was in full view, it fairly boiled over, even the horses appearing to be carried away by it.
 s'Stand back, ladiesr' shouted the master of the hounds, who carried a light rifle, sometimes a cat will jump for her life, and they will scratch when they land"
 The ladies fell back a little, and a youngster in the party volunteered to climb the tree and dislodge the common enemy. Handing the bridle of his horse to a rider, he seized the pendent grape vine ond swung up into the. tr9e, and few moments later was making his way along the branch toward the crouching cat. She was so intently engaged in looking at the dogs that at first she did not sec him, but when he rounded the trunk she suddenly caught sight of the new enemy, drew back with a quick growl, glanced this way and that, as if measuring the chances, and, perhaps, would have jumped, when the climber deftly struck her from behind and down she went, with a scream of rage into the red mouths below The blood and fur flew, for puss was game, and not few good dogs backed out, wiping their heads and ragged ears. But the game was up, and it was with great difficulty that the skin was saved for the rug which is the trophy of the wildcat hunt.
 Hunting this short tailed feline is a feature of southern California out door sports. The deep canons that radiate down from the Sierra Madres form their retreat and that of large game in general. After rain the hunts are organized, and then the paw marks are distinctly seen and the scent fresh, and, as the storm clouds blow away from the mountain sides and the warm sun comes out the bay of the hounds of some sportsman is nearly always heard. The wildcat of this country is a large, powerful animal, approaching the lynx, also found here, in sizo and general appearance, and large enough to infict dangerous wounds upon man or beast.
 On one occasion the hounds came upon fresh scent in an extremely narrow place in the canon, where precipitous rocks rose on one side and heavy brush on the other. The dogs rushed into the latter, and a moment later a large cat bounded into the narrow stream and began an intellectual scramble up the rocky sides. A bullet caught her before she had gone thirty feet, and, turning with snarl of rage, she leaped directly into the air, fell upon the neck of broncho, dismounted the rider in the melee, and before she could be dislodged tore and lacerated the animal in a fear fuI Elanher. Kittens are often seen in play to take one another in their mouths and to scratch with their hind feet. and it was this plan that was adopted by the cat. She fastened her claws into the broncho's neck, and with her sharp hind claws ripped and clawed until the animal was mass of blood and lacerated flesh, then fell among the dogs, to be torn to pieces amid protest that showed it to be among the ganest animals.
 "You may talk about your mountain lion,' said an old hunter as we rode slowly up the Arroyo one early morning after the rain, with the whimpering dogs all about, "but I would rather take my chances with one any time than with a pair of wildcats at close quarters. It just seems as if a cat loses its head like. They know they're caught, and they are just bound to have 1t out if it takes all sum- mer They fight worse when there is a pair, just like a mountain lion. ''-Phila- delphia Times.