In Missouri and
Arkansas, the puma will prey chiefly upon fowls and young pigs; it will
run away from dogs, cows, horses, and even from goats. In Louisiana and
Texas it will run from man, but it fights the dogs, tears the horse, and
kills the cattle, even the wild buffalo, merely for sport. In the
Anahuar, Cordillieres, and Rocky Mountains, it disdains to fly, becomes
more majestic in its movements, and faces its opponents, from the
grizzly bear to a whole company of traders; yet it will seldom attack
unless when cubbing. In Sonora and California, it is even more
ferocious. When hungry, it will hunt by the scent, like the dog, with
its nose on the ground. Meeting a trail, it follows it at the rate of
twenty miles an hour, till it can pounce upon a prey; a single horseman,
or an army, a deer, or ten thousand buffaloes, it cares not, it attacks
everything.
I did not like to interrupt my narrative merely to relate a puma
adventure, but during the time that I was with the Comanches, a Mexican
priest, who had for a long time sojourned as instructor among the
Indians, arrived in the great village on his way to St. Louis, Mi.,
where he was proceeding on clerical affairs. The Comanches received him
with affection, gave him a fresh mule, with new blankets, and mustered a
small party to accompany him to the Wakoes Indians.
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