The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1898-05-12
A Fight With Catamounts
By HENRY S. WESTBROOK.
Written for this Paper. I

shower had ceased, I picked up
my gun-an old army musket G. wen me
by my grandfather-called my ever
faithful dog and started to the dense
pine swamps to have some fun shooting
rabbits.
The shower was of short duration,
though the drops were large silvery
ones, which made all nature rejoice.
The clouds were beginning to break
and soon the hills and dales of Central
Arkansas were bathed in golden sun
beams.
"Whatan excellent time for hunting"
exclaimed, and my dog looked into my
face, gave his tail a friendly wag and
started into the thick underbrush.
I Kissed him on. told him to bring
me some game soon, and turned to one
side into little path, thinking what
peculiar habits had my longed-for
game.
Did you ever hunt rabbits? Did you
ever watch them when chased by a
pack of dogs?
Well, sir, you may Jump rabbit
that's what we Arkansas boys call
starting one-in a field and he has
through before you could say ''scat,"
and by the time the dog gets over. Mr..
Rabbit is away off in the swamp. When
your dog gets out there after him he
will come back on the same track and
&c through the same crack he went
out at.
Listen!
That's Collie. He has jumped rab-
bit at the old spring and is bringing
him down the old log road. Nearer
came my dog and 1 knew the rabbit
was several yards ahead. cooked my
musket, looked behind me to see if
had soft place to fall when I fired,
braced myself up and began looking
all around me to see the rabbit slipping
through the huckleberry bushes.
Soon I saw him coming down the
path. I got down upon my knees,
brought my army piece into play, and
had but few moments to wait. On
and on he came as easily as if he were
getting lot of fun out of the race.
When within ten feet of me he
stopped suddenly, reared up on his hind
feet like bear and took surrounding
view to see if an enemy was nigh. Just
then "the first gun Of Sumpter" fired
and my game lay dead at my feet.
My dog arrived by this time, licked
the bleeding wounds and signifed his
willingness for another chase.
I picked up my game, babe my dog
follow me, until we had proceeded quite
distance into the th!cket, wle2s the
black marshy lands set in. There let
Collie go again, while proceeded to re-
load and prepare for another capture.
After reloading, sat down and be-
gan musing, thinking about the nature
of the burrow
l remembered having seen them
swim for many yards down turbulent
stream to throw the dog off the track.
Then l have seen them stop and lick
their feet that the dog could not trail
them.
But my dog is baying something. My
goodness, how he barks! "Must be a
coon or 'possum,' suggested to
myself, as hurried through the thick
and tangled sapplings, brushy tree-tops
interlaced by vines and briars trying to
reach the designated spot.
When I got there my dog was gone,
and l could not hear a single yelp. I
yelled to him, urged him on, in hopes
that I might find him by his bark, but
nothing answered me, save my echo,
and the softly signing tree tops bathed
in golden beams from the dying sun.
lndistinctly, far away to the west,
seemingly near that old Ovens field
some say is haunted, heard Coles
bark, and a few moments waiting told
me he was coming towards me. l felt
somewhat excited, for it really seemed
was going to find bigger game than
I was prepared for-all my shot being
bird shot.
Across the hills beyond the winding
rivulet, came the yelps of my dog, and
as others came they died away in the
distance with the rays of the setting
sun making joy in the heart of every
soul who could hear the music of the
warning notes of the chase.
AS they drew near the muddy stream,
coming directly towards me, began to
tremble with fear, for I knew it was
some beast of prey. On they came with
the swiftness of the wind, and in a few
moments bounded by me large cata-
mount. He passed within three feet of
me and seemed to shake the earth with
his great bounds. I tried to raise my
gun to fire, but my boyish limbs were
too weak.
The frightful looking cat, stopped at
the butt of large pine tree, keeping
his back to the trunk, and gracefully
keeping Collie at Il safe distance by
gentle strokes of his paw.
After resting few moments he
turned his attention to me-not over
20 yards away, trying to seclude my
self and fire. When a few moments
watching had elapsed, he sprang into
the air fully ten feet high, and uttered
wild, shrieking scream, which chilled
the blood in my veins. Then he ad-
vanced towards me, repeating those
frightful screams.
Before he had advanced half way, I
heard his mate answer from the oppo-
site side of the stream. Soon ] realized
my chances of escape were entirely cut
off, and all could do was to fight it out
with these ferocious beasts. The mate
was coming rapidly and, no doubt, was
very hungry, for it was now dusk.
Crouching behind a large pine stump,
expecting every moment for the COM
ing mate to crash through the brush