After the accident of my gun explosion in camp I went out to look at A trap I had set for a wolverine. I came to the spot and found the chain broken and the trap gone, I began brushing away the snow supposing he had dodged into a hole near by, the trap was set at the root of a tree Suddenly I heard a growl and down from the limb leaped the darn skunk upon my left shoulder while the trap struck me fair in the face, I did some tall scrambling shook him off and empied my revolver in his skin. My shoulder was very sore for three months so we had two cripples at once. The next streak of ill luck, another of the gang got lazy and would not wash well in cold water and contracted cold and then Pneumonia--this layed him off for nearly three weeks. Our catch this winter was Wolverine, Lynx, Marten, Ermine, a few Beaver and Otter. but my Marten were of all more valuable.
I was engaged the next summer in Colorado by a ranchman to trap Mountain Lion. The Mountain Lion is a specie of the Eastern Panther they weigh from 80 to 150 lbs. Their color in winter is a steel grey and in summer is a greyish brown. Their food is rabbit and grouse. Their haunts are the Rocky mountains. Their hides are used for rugs and robes and worth from 5-to 15 dollars. They also feed on calves and colts. are very hard on a Horse Ranch-Man. They often attack men, I have known three men to have been killed by Mountain Lions. The Mountain Lion is very shy he can be poisoned the best of any way of taking his life. to trap a Lion you must set all bait traps and deadfalls horse back and be sure your horse has no shoes nor horse nails in their hoofs, if they have the Lion will steer clear of the trap they are very clever in every way. One time I was delayed from Camp it grew dark and I had an awful time to pick my way home I soon discovered that I had more than the dark and difficult roads to battle, For I was being followed by a Lioness five whelps and an old Dog Lion. I was on my Favorite Horse Old Gotch. He feared Lions equally as great as I hated Squaws, They followed me for about three miles and when I reached an open space in the woods I halted near an old fir stub, I dismounted cautiously I could hear the old Dog growl and the whelps squeal like a flock of young pups. I found some dry leaves and struck a fire breaking off the limbs of the old stub for fuel, After an hour these limbs were all burned up and I had to go about thirty feet to another stub for wood. I had to be pretty foxy for both lioness and Dog kept uncomfortably close to me all the time I carried my six shooter in one hand, and wood on the other arm; just as I was returning with a load of wood the moon broke through a cloud and the old Dog was standing about forty five feet away in a bunch of weeds. I pulled my gun and took a chance shot and as luck would have it I broke his for shoulders and he could leap around but not direct his course. I never heard such a tearing racket; he would leap ten feet high and fall on his head when he struck ground, by this I knew I had fixed his front limbs. At this the Lioness and whelps retreated and after an hour I mounted Gotch and rode up near the tired and crippled Dog and sent a ball through his heart. I returned to the fire and had a little sleep before day-break. I skined the old fellow next morning he was a monster old, rugged, brawny & covered with (23) wounds. he had also been shot three times before.