Killer Cougar of Polk County
This isn't a fishing story but it's pretty good. It's about the Oregon State Record cougar killed by my Aunt's dad back in the 30's, and told by her Sister in poem form. Followed by a picture of the big cat. Hope you all enjoy.
THE KILLER COUGAR OF POLK COUNTY
The April dawn was casting a first glow
When my sister Ina gazed out at new snow.
A blotch of pink and red on the white;
It was death-stained snow that gave her a fright.
Blood by the gate and up at the barn;
The barking of dogs gave the alarm.
"Get up, get dressed. Something's after the goats!"
They scrambled for clothes and grabbed their coats.
The brothers awoke. "We're coming, too."
"Well, hurry along and dress warm when you do."
They hit the stairs running thumping the wall.
Mother awoke and the baby began to bawl.
"I'll help Mom with the baby then come to the barn,"
Said Dot, the eldest of us kids on the farm.
Four girls and three boys in Nineteen Thirty-five
Kept Dad and Mom scratching to keep us alive.
From Dean and Dale, the younger boys to Les, who split cookwood,
Dot, Ina and May did the milking and helped Mom all they could.
Accustomed to working, each knew what to do;
Pump water, split wood and care for animals, too.
They walked miles down the mountain to attend school every weekday.
They had fun going and coming and sang songs the whole way.
The goats were our living providing milk and meat.
Without that herd we just might not eat.
No thought for their safety now, they raced to the herd.
And for a moment stood in anguish, not saying a word.
The goats were standing with rears to the shed;
In the corral several more goats were dying or dead.
Ina was so angry, Her dark eyes flashed fire.
"It killed old Belle and I don't see Star."
"But look, there is fur on Billy Boy's horn.
He died fighting a cougar, sure as I'm born."
"What's going on here?" Mom's voice was shrill.
She came with Dot, hurrying up the hill.
"Five nannies are dead and Billy Boy, too."
May cried with a sob. "What can we do?"
"Feed the goats and get them milked.
I'll cut sign to see what else it killed."
Mom followed a drag trail through snow to the timber.
When she returned, the dogs were with her.
"That's the biggest cat track I've ever seen,"
Mom said grimly and her grey eyes gleamed.
"Les, get the traps; Dean get some rope.
May, I'll need a bell for the bait-goat's throat.
That cat is a killer and he will be back.
We had better be ready, so let's make tracks!"
High up in the hay mow on the barn's north side
Boards were removed giving a view nice and wide.
Cougars kill deer; had not bothered us before.
But a killer cat was reason to declare war!
A Model-A fog light to a dry-cell battery
Would be the spot light. Dad's rifle the artillery.
For three nights they waited for the cat to return.
When the bait-goat jingled, Mom made the light burn.
The cougar looked up and snarled at the light.
The shot rang loud in the still, cold night.
Back at the house, heads raised from the bed.
Whispers, "Dad's rifle!" "I bet the cat is dead."
Bare feet raced down stairs and they stoked the fire.
Dot fetched the baby; grandma close behind her.
"The cat's dead," Mom shouted as she burst through the door,
The lantern casting wild shadows on the floor.
"He's a mighty cat," said Dad. "Biggest I've seen."
His coat is prime but he was pure mean."
"I'm glad we were up high. He came straight at the light.
He jumped high at the barn. He was a fearsome sight."
"His awful scream was a terrible sound.
He fell back and was dead as he hit the ground."
"I'll haul him to town and collect the bounty.
We'll get one from the State and one from the County."
By horse and wagon they hauled in the cougar.
In the town of Falls City, it created quite a stir.
Photographs and measurements; Whistles and awes.
Eight feet, eleven inches long; nine inches across the paws.
Pictures taken of them and the great feline;
Our parents made the paper for the first time.
Our doctor from Dallas made many trips to our farm.
He said Mom always delivered in a bad storm.
The Doc made Dad an offer to square the bill.
And he took the hide from the cougar Dad killed.
That cat held the record for thirty years or more
All that time his hide graced the doctor's office floor.
Some hunters now days like to boast of their kill.
Their goal is to shoot the biggest on the hill.
But Dad didn't go looking to bring the cat harm.
He was simply defending his family and farm.
11/2002 By Martha (Arrance) Karau
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v4...ERCOUGAR33.jpg
