Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1888-02-09
MOCKED By A LION.
How a Mountain Lion Gothic Advantage
of Two Hunters.


In the Central park menagerie is
a magnificent specimen Of the cougar
or mountain lion. The other after
noon two gentlemen stood by the cage
watching the graceful animal as it
restlessly moved from one end of the
cage to the other with rhythmical de-
ciSicn. LAST winter" said one, Il
was shooting in the Sierra Tara Nate
mountains, In Mexico, where, from
the signs and tracks in the sand bot
toned canyons, these animals were
very abundant. At night one would
sit upon the mesa above our camp and
give out hymns for the coyotes to sing.
1t was an unearthly yell that made the
goose flesh come on the top OF your
mead, and led YOU to even wish to be
back in the land of hand organs. NV
guide, Jack Bridges, who used to be
with Custer, would sit up in his blank
cts and say: Go it when you can, for
we are going to do you up.
For days we looked for the home
of the lion, and, although we could
see his footprints, which appeared like
very big tours of clubs, he did so
much rock walking that it was impos-
sible to track MIN to his cave. One
day we met Mexican smuggling out
fit, and the captain told US that in a
canyon several miles from our camp
there was hermit lion whom he never
failed to get glimpse of when taking
the trail that way. For years back he
had missed seeing him, but of late he
had noticed that the lion was lame
probably from having run cactus
point into his foot, or from jumping
too much out of the way of earthquakes.
The smuggler described so accurately
where the lion hung out that we went
over there the next morning hoping to
get shot.
1.-The canyon was Just about the
worst place you ever saw. The bottom
was a jungle of scrub live oak, so
dense that we had to crawl on our
hands and knees in many places. The
sides were volcanic rock, Jagged and
broken with holes and crevices. Jack
was on ahead and | at his heels when
we came face to face with the lion,
who was sitting in the mouth of his
cave trying to scare Us out of counten-
ance. He gave one scratch and then
his long tail disappeared around the
corner of a big bowlder just as we got
sight of him. Neither had a chance
to shoot. Half minute later we saw
him go limping up the side of the di-
vide, and when he reached the top he
Squatted and looked complacently
down at us. He was proVokingly out
of shot, and he knew it as well as we
did.
''Then began one of the most scien-
tlfic hunts on record. We were both
as mad as hornets. Up hill and down
dale we followed that brute until dark.
He was never over one thousand yards
away, but never in shot. He would
run, and limp, and squat, blink at us,
wiggle his tail at US, and seem to coax
Us to follow him. Eleven miles we
went in bee line from camp, and it
took us until next morning to get
back. We then set to work to put up
a job on that lion. We went over to
the canyon where he lived, killed
white-tailed deer, took his paunch,
and trailed it in circle around the
canyon. The carcass we then hung
high up on limo, five feet out from
the trunk. Then we cut up the deer's
liver into thirteen bats, for luck, and
dosed each with strychnine. We also
rubbed the poison into the paunch,
which we left at the bottom of the
tree.
1--WE smiled as we walked back to
camp, and Jack told me of an Apache
Indian over at Montezuma mining
camp who would tan the lions hide
with deer's brains for 81. [ kept
awake that night for two hours think
ing whom | would give it to, OF if /
would keep it myself. About sunrise
we struck the lions canyon. When
We got near the deer tree we expected
to pick up the lion every step. But
We didn't. He had been there though.
He bad eaten up the thirteen poisoned
bats, got away with some of the
paunch, climbed the tree, stretched
himself out, and eaten hunks as big as
Derby hats out of the deer's carcass
1--WE spent the day in looking for
the dead lion, but could not find him.
When we turned to 90 home we sud-
denly spied his nibs squatting down on
top of the divide winking at us. At
Ell Paso I told merchant this story,
and showed him what was left of the
poison. He told US the strychnine we
had bought from the smugglers was
only kind of a flour, of which bar
relful would not faze chicken, and
that he ought to know, for he put up
the stuff himself "-NeoO York San.