Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1900-07-14
The Fate of Magruder.
BY CT ARENCE PULLEN.

our pack mule, Andy, lying dead on
the open grassy space in which our
cabin stood.
The mule had been feeding quietly
about his pickct-pin in the morning
when we started out ovisit our traps,
and the picket-pn was driven beneath
the great sycamore in front Of the
cabin. Now we had come back mt
night to find Andy killed, his throat
torn, his haunch partly devoured by
some beast OF prey. Deep clnwmnrks
were on his back and shoulders: his
neck had been broken ut its -jointurc
with the spine by II terrible bite.
The loss of the mule was serious
one to us, Mngruder and l, an eX-army
scout had been with General Crook
in his campaign against the Tonic
Apuches of Arizona, and SO we had
found out the natural advantages or
the sheltered Tonic Basin with its eX'
tcnSive timber forests, numerous
streams and soft. equable climate.
Now that this vast valley was clear
VI ''Si ga" '''' -
tered it in September. built perma-
nent campon Tonic Creek near the foot
of the Mogollon mesa. and prepared
to pass the autumn and winter there
hunting and trapping.
In the middle of October we had our
lines of traps out and were getting Il
fair amount of fur, when our iii st
stroke of bad luck came-our dog,
Hector, had been carried away. He
had been useful in our hunting, and we
had relied on him to give us timely
notice of any person or dangerous
beast that should approach the camp.
Hector's disappearance had not
seemed mysterious. One dark night
he ran out of the cabin with Il growl-
the mule had previously been uneasy.
Half waking, heard the dog bark
loudly. Then l heard a growl, deeper
and more savage than any dog could
give, mingling with one shrek and
strangled moan from Hector.
Magruder and l jumped to our feet,
caught up our rifles, and threw open
the door The mule was snOrting and
stamping with fear ut the end of his
pickct-ropc, but of the dog there was
no sight or sound. We heard some
large sOft-fOoted animal bounding
away in the darkness in long leaps.
We made no doubt it was mountain
lion, although rain later in the night
blotted out all tracks.
A week went by and here was our
mule killed probably by the same crea-
ture that killed Hector 1t c0uldnot be Il
grizzly, for there We're no tracks to be
seen such as bears great feet and
prOtruding claws would have made.
We decided that the mule, too, had
been killed by a mOuntnin-liOn- lion
of uncommon size and strength, else
1t could not so easily have carried off
large dog and killed powerful mule.
"Hunt the yarmint down" l said.
In answer to Magruder, as we stood
can't do much at that without dogs"
"Well, it is rather late to b, going
after him now. He's got everything
we had to loSe-unless he comes for one
of us next time My partner spoke
with seriousness so unusual in him
that I looked hard ut him. and then he
laughed the thing away and mentioned
no other fOrebOding.
That night we had made our pre-
paratiOns to receive the lion If he came
back to the dead mule. We took turns
In watching, but no lion came. So we
dragged the fostering carcass away
from the camp the next day, and left
It to the wolves and foxes.
Magurder, usually one Of the cheer
lest and most indomituble of men, was
evidently greatly disheartened by our
bad luck; and he even proposed that
we pull up stakes forthwith, and go
back to white settlements.
But l said, "Were here, Bill, and
we're doing well. We're trapping
lois Of fur, and we can kill all the meat
we want to eat. 1t will be no more of
tramp to foot it out to the settlements
next spring than to do it now. Let's
try it a month or two longer anyway.
We can catch our furs when we 60,
and come back for them afterward
with an outfit Of packmules."
"All right he said. stay it is"
AS the week wore on. Magruder's de-
preston seemed to vanish, and he re-
sumed his oldtime cheerfulneSs. But
one night In camp, just as l was drop
ping off to sleep, Magruder started and
said to me. "Do you hear that sound?"
l listened. Presently from some
where up the canyon side came wall
Ing. deep-thrOated cry, which was re-
peated mt intervals.
yes, hear it," l said "It's
mountainliOn-if it isn't an owl. Pity
we haven't another mule for him to
chew up"'
"lt's different note from a lions
cry" said Magurder. ''The beast
that's making that sound is the one
that killed our dog and mule.
Something has just come into my
mind that the Apache scouts told me
once he continued. ITS about ia
guars. They said that these animals
sometimes wander up into Arizona
from Sonora, and when they do, they
always come to the Tonic Basin. The
forests and climate here suit them, l
suppose. The Indians are supcrsti-
tious about these beasts. They say
they are always man-eatcrs."
"All right; jaguar or lion. I'd like a
fair shot at him, II remarked. and set
tied myself again to my slumbers. But
before l went quite to sleep l heard
my partner moving restlessly In his
blankets and muttering.
He was In good spirits the next morn
Ing when we started out to make the
round Of our traps. 1t was one Of
those exquisite autumn days which. in
the higher levels of Arizona. open with
frost and are sunny and warm ut noon.
We separated at the forks of the creek.
Nagurder taking the south and the