‘Hum!’ Jerry Houghton-Rand said pensively, showing a mixture of interest and lack of comprehension. ‘Do I take it that you are going to try to take the beastie alive?’
‘No, not try,’ corrected the sheriff of Rockabye County, reaching for several dog chains which were attached to the cantle of his saddle. ‘We’re going to do it.’
‘How?’ the Englishman wanted to know, so engrossed that he lost his laconic poise for the moment.
‘Get a rope around its neck,’ explained Jack Tragg, watching Deputy Sheriff Bradford Counter walking away carrying the machete. ‘Then we’ll haul him down out of that old cottonwood tree, tie him up and tote him some place where he can live off something a touch less costly than the boss-lady’s foals.’
‘Ah yes!’ Houghton-Rand said and nodded, after the fashion of one who had been told something which he considered should have occurred to him unaided. ‘That does seem to be the most logical thing to do, if one isn’t wanting to do the blighter in. In fact, I can’t for the life of me imagine why I didn’t think of it straight away. I won’t be needing this carbine, of course?’
‘Not unless you’re figuring on doing some deer hunting while Brad and me take care of things here,’ Jack answered. ‘But, happen you’re sticking around, you’ll be needing both hands free to help me chain up those fool hounds.’
Returning the Winchester Model of 1894 carbine to its saddleboot, the Englishman wondered whether the sheriff was pulling his leg with regards to the way in which the mountain lion would be dealt. Being a practical lover of nature, rather than a professional conservation freak of the kind whose outlook was frequently subject to political considerations, he accepted that the lion’s depredations could not be tolerated and must be brought to an end. On being asked by his aunt to accompany them, knowing both of the Texans had participated in several similar hunts, he had assumed he was being invited so that he could perform the actual killing and claim the trophy. Discovering he was in error with his summation, he was nevertheless eager to see the affair through to its unanticipated conclusion.
The sound of chopping came from among the bushes while Jack and Houghton-Rand were sharing the six chains between them. Returning into view, Brad proved to have collected a fairly sturdy forked stick about eight foot in length. Without offering any explanation to the Englishman, he replaced the machete in the sheath attached to the saddlehorn of his big buckskin gelding. Having done so, he accompanied his companions towards the cottonwood tree in which the cougar had taken refuge.
On their arrival, the sheriff, the blond giant and Houghton-Rand set about the far from easy task of removing the redbone coonhounds from the immediate vicinity. Normally obedient, the dogs were at that moment too filled with a desire to get at their hereditary quarry to respond to verbal commands. Each had to be grabbed by the collar and hauled bodily away, struggling to return although without going so far as to turn upon and bite whoever was restraining it. Then each animal was fastened with a chain some distance from the cottonwood. However, despite the reduction in the number of its pursuers, the mountain lion did not attempt to descend. Aware of the necessity to make up for the removal of his companions the big Rhodesian ridgeback increased his rowdy pretence of trying to reach their prey on the limb above him.
‘How about Cousin Ian?’ Houghton-Rand inquired, after—not without the use of considerable profanity on the part of all three men—the six redbones had been secured. He noticed that there were no more chains.
‘Him?’ Jack replied, darting a glance at the ridgeback. Then, realizing that the Englishman was participating in his first hunt of this kind, went on with complete confidence, ‘Don’t worry about him. He’s got a heap too much sense to get in our way. Keep an eye on that old cat while Brad and I go around the back of the tree.’
‘Certainly, old boy,’ Houghton-Rand assented. ‘But may I ask why you are going?’
‘To climb up where he can’t see me,’ the sheriff answered. ‘Then have Brad toss up the rope and stick.’
‘You’re going to climb the tree?’ Houghton-Rand asked.
‘Why sure,’ Jack confirmed, enjoying the mystification being shown by the generally phlegmatic young Englishman. ‘There’s no way we can throw a loop around that old cat’s neck from down here and, no matter who raised that look-alike cousin of his down in Africa, xxii Brad’s a touch on the heavy side for climbing about in trees.’
‘I certainly wouldn’t want to debate the last point,’ Houghton-Rand conceded, throwing a quick look at the massive frame of the blond giant. ‘But isn’t it, perhaps, rather ill-advised to go up there. I haven’t had an awful amount to do with mountain lions, I’ll admit, but that chappie looks just a trifle peevish to me. Mightn’t he take exception to finding you wandering around what he probably regards as his tree?’
‘He could do,’ Jack admitted.
‘Then he might take it into his head to attack you?’ Houghton-Rand suggested.
‘I’ve never known a cougar to under such circumstances,’ the sheriff declared.
‘Or me,’ Brad seconded. ‘But don’t you ever try climbing up after a bobcat, Jerry. Because, if you should, for all it’s not half the size of a cougar, that feisty lil cat will be coming down to meet you and you’ll for sure not be taken too kindly with the way he arrives.’
‘I’ll keep it in mind, assuming I ever find myself making the acquaintance of a bobcat in such circumstances,’ the Englishman promised solemnly, but a note of genuine concern came into his voice as he continued, ‘This all sounds just a trifle risky to me, though. Is there anything I can be doing while you’re gallivanting around in the tree?’
‘Take this and watch the cougar,’ the sheriff replied, drawing and holding out his Smith & Wesson Model 27 .357 Magnum revolver. ‘If he tries to jump you, use it. But, as is more likely, should he just go over and light out, head across and turn the redbones loose as quickly as you can. Cousin Ian’ll have taken after him and will need help happen he turns to fight instead of treeing again.’
‘And if all goes well?’ Houghton-Rand queried, accepting the weapon.
‘Get ready to lend Brad a hand,’ Jack explained, if not too succinctly. ‘He’ll tell you what he wants for you to do when the time comes.’
‘I love surprises,’ the Englishman remarked to the departing backs of the Texans.
‘I’ll see if I can give you one,’ Brad promised, turning to stand with his back to the tree and, dropping the rope and stick, cupping his hands with interlocked fingers.
Placing his right foot in the proffered palms, the sheriff received a powerful boost which helped him to climb the trunk and reach the lowest branch on the side he was ascending. Then, catching the lariat and forked stick as they were tossed to him in turn, he waited for the blond giant to join the Englishman before starting to move around.
Despite the assurance he had been given, Houghton-Rand noticed Brad was clearly ready to take immediate action should this be needed. Standing with feet slightly separated and knees bent a trifle, the big deputy held his right hand close to the butt of the Colt Government Model of 1911 automatic pistol. It was carried in the skimpy, forward raked, Bianchi Cooper-Combat holster at the off side of the strapless official Sam Browne belt he had donned when changing into his riding clothes at the Department of Public Safety Building. His gaze was fixed upon the cougar and he gave the impression of being as tense as a compressed coil-spring.
Houghton-Rand found the sight comforting, having developed a great respect and liking for the sheriff of Rockabye County. While he was fully competent in using a handgun, the weapon he was holding was unfamiliar. Furthermore, having seen the great speed and accuracy which the blond giant could attain when using such a rig, xxiii he was willing to concede himself completely out-classed.
Tightening his grip involuntarily upon the butt of the Smith & Wesson, the young Englishman watched his host slowly easing into view around the bulky trunk of the cottonwood tree. A brief glance informed him that he was not alone in his feeling of concern. Although it might have gone unnoticed by eyes less discerning than his own, having been well trained in such matters, he observed the big deputy was just a trifle more tense and was staring upwards with savage concentration as if willing the mountain lion not to look around.
Returning his attention to the branches, Houghton-Rand waited with baited breath to find out what was going to happen!
What the Englishman saw did nothing to relieve his anxiety!
For some reason, possibly so it could obtain a better view of the hounds beneath it, the cougar had advanced along the limb to which it had ascended. It was lying supported by a couple of the smaller branches which spread from the main one, still looking downwards and giving no indication of knowing the sheriff was standing behind it. Aware of what was expected of him, the big ridgeback redoubled his clamor. His intention was to prevent the mountain lion from discovering the new danger in its immediate vicinity and he was successful in keeping its baleful scrutiny directed at him and the two human beings at the foot of the cottonwood tree.
In spite of this, Houghton-Rand could not stop himself considering how precarious the position of the sheriff would be if the already angry and alarmed predator should become aware of the situation!
Bracing his back against the trunk of the cottonwood, Jack shook open the lariat and allowed its end to slide downwards. Then, having spread the loop until it was about two feet in diameter, he hung it over the forked end of the stick. Having adjusted it to his satisfaction, he began to move it outwards very slowly. Passing the loop above the grayish body without allowing them to come into contact, he lowered it inch by careful inch until it was in front of the head of the predator.
Letting out a startled and furious hiss, which caused Houghton-Rand to send his left hand to join the right on the butt of revolver, the mountain lion lashed out with a paw. Although it knocked the loop from the fork, it did not rise and look around to discover from whence they had come. Retrieving the upper end of the lariat, Jack worked the honda until he had once more spread the loop to a size suitable for his requirements. Returning it to the fork, he extended the stick and made a second attempt which met with no greater success. Nor, fortunately to the Englishman’s way of thinking, did his activities produce any desire to investigate from the cougar.
The third try met with more success!
‘Tuck that piece into your waistband, Jerry!’ Brad ordered, watching his superior commencing to maneuver the loop into the desired position.
‘As you say, old boy! ’ Houghton-Rand answered, obeying although to do so went against his every instinct.
Wondering what part, if any, in the intended capture he would be expected to play, the Englishman was prevented from seeking enlightenment upon the issue by further events. As he was thrusting the revolver into the waistband of his Levi’s, he saw the sheriff had allowed the cougar to grasp and gnaw upon the forked stick. This had served to distract it while he was twitching the rope over its head and along its neck. Satisfied that the loop was positioned where he wanted it, he gave a gentle tug which drew it tight.
A glance around notified Houghton-Rand that Brad was stepping forward and reaching for the lower end of the lariat with both hands. Much to his consternation, he realized that the blond giant had not given him either instructions or a suggestion of what was to take place next. Showing a far greater understanding than the Englishman of the forthcoming events, Cousin Ian started to back away. Not, however, with tail tucked between the legs and an appearance of fear. Rather the big ridgeback was watchful and his demeanor was redolent of readiness to spring into the attack immediately the need arose.
Returning his gaze to the branches, Houghton-Rand discovered that the sheriff had pulled harder just before the closing loop made contact with the cougar. Instantly on feeling the alien object tightening around its neck, the predatory beast bounded to its feet. Being provoked by a purely reflex action, the movement proved ill advised. As soon as it rose, the blond giant down below began to haul on the lariat as hard as he was able. Such was the tremendous power his Herculean frame was capable of exerting that, before the mountain lion could adjust its equilibrium to the swaying motion of the limbs upon which it was standing, its balance was destroyed and it lost its footing. It was, in fact, being snatched out of the branches of the cottonwood with no more discernible difficulty than if it was the newly born kitten of a domestic cat. However, enormous though his physical strength was, Brad did not wait for it to descend all the way to the ground. Instead, the moment he was satisfied that he had achieved his purpose by dislodging it, he darted around the bottom of the tree with the rope still in his hands.
Startled by the sight of the apparent ease with which the mountain lion was plucked from its refuge and of the blond giant taking what appeared to be a hurried departure from where it would alight, Houghton-Rand began to withdraw. His retreat was as rapid and unthinking as the response of the predator upon feeling the constriction of the lariat about its throat had been. Nor was the action any better advised as things turned out. Reaching for the butt of the Smith & Wesson as he went, he tripped over a protruding root and toppled backwards.
Such was the force by which the unexpected removal from the branches was brought about, the cougar rolled in mid-air with its four legs flailing wildly as it was falling. In spite of this, aided by the superbly attuned reflexes which are a characteristic of all the sub-species of the Felidae, it contrived to come down on its feet. What was more, the moment it reached the ground, it made a terrific leap away from the cottonwood tree. Pure chance rather than a deliberate attempt to attack the nearest human being, sent it in the direction of the collapsing Englishman.
Looking downwards from the stout branch, the sheriff gave a yell of alarm at the sight which met his gaze. Dipping swiftly and without any suggestion from conscious thought, being unmindful in the stress of the moment of the fact that he had given the revolver to Houghton-Rand, his right hand found only the top of the empty holster. There was, he realized, nothing he could do to help the Englishman. Nor could Brad, who was already racing around the trunk of the cottonwood and unaware of the dangerous predicament in which their companion was placed. Furthermore, although Cousin Ian was starting to dart forward, he lacked the size and weight to deflect the larger and heavier predator from its course by springing to collide with it.
How the situation turned out depended upon Houghton-Rand!
Fortunately for the young Englishman, he was well equipped mentally and physically to cope with such an emergency!
One important trait required of and improved upon by the training of every member of the Special Air Service was reactions capable of a lightning fast response to even the most unexpected situations. These took control of his conscious thought processes immediately Houghton-Rand began to lose his balance. Forming a rapid estimation of the peril from the sight of the mountain lion approaching, they set about protecting him. Leaving the butt of the Smith & Wesson as unsuited to his needs of the moment, his right hand joined the left in breaking the fall. Then, with its impact under control, he began to roll sideways the instant he hit the ground.
The evasive tactics employed by the Englishman were neither any too soon nor unnecessary!
Brought to a halt by the rope snapping tight around the trunk of the cottonwood tree, with such suddenness it was flipped on to its back, the mountain lion came down upon the spot only just vacated by Houghton-Rand. It was up again in a flash, but paid not the slightest attention to him as he continued to roll away. Seeing their intended quarry descending, all the redbones were bawling at the top of their voices while struggling to escape from their chains and attack. However, being experienced in such matters, Cousin Ian was too wise to press home his attack when he saw there was no longer any urgent need for it to take place. Too late to halt, he employed all his muscle power to make a bound which carried him over Houghton-Rand and the cougar. Coming down beyond the reach of the predator, if it should have tried to turn upon him, he made a circle and joined the hounds in the unholy racket they were creating while once more keeping his distance. Frightened by what was happening to it, and the commotion, the cougar took flight. Running away from the hounds, as it considered the lone dog to be the lesser of two evils, it caused Cousin Ian to dart out of its way in a hurry.
Unfortunately, the route selected by the mountain lion was in the same direction that Brad had run around the tree!
Instead of having the bulk of the trunk to assist him, the blond giant found the lariat was moving away from it!
Skidding to a halt and wishing he was wearing a pair of cowhand’s working boots, the high heels of which would have sunk into the soft ground and offered a much more secure footing, Brad grasped tighter with both hands and braced himself. Once again, as the fleeing cougar reached the end of the rope, his enormous strength was subjected to a severe test. His Herculean muscular development proved equal to the strain thrown so suddenly upon it. Although the wrench he received caused his torso to sway forward and his spread apart legs to bend somewhat, his feet never moved and he did not relax his grip on the lariat. On the other hand, the second unanticipated ending brought to its flight spun the predator around and sent it rolling on the ground.
Growling awesomely, spitting and scratching the air with abandon, the cougar swiftly regained its feet. However, by now it was in a state of complete panic and did nothing more constructive than to fight against the constriction and pull of the rope. Backing and jerking, it tried to bite at the offending object but the honda of the loop was just behind its ears and prevented it from being able to grasp the stem between its champing jaws.
Doing everything in his power to keep the rope taut, Brad went as swiftly as he could towards a more slender tree. Watching the sheriff dropping from the branch of the cottonwood, he was more successful than during his previous attempt at acquiring leverage. For all that, despite having gone around and gained a brace, the fury of his captive’s struggles prevented him from being able to fasten the lariat to the trunk.
Sitting up, Houghton-Rand took stock of the situation. Having glanced in the direction of the blond giant and concluding no help was needed there, he swung his gaze to the sheriff. Followed at a discreet distance by Cousin Ian, Jack had run towards where the cougar was raging furiously on the end of the lariat and was beginning to try to grab it by its tail.
Gradually choked by the loop around its neck, the mountain lion was unable to draw sufficient air into its lungs to sustain the amount of energy it was expending. After almost a minute, the effect of the shortage was affecting its sense of balance. Sideswiping the trunk of a small white oak tree in the course of its mindless struggling, it went down momentarily stunned. Plunging forward like a prairie falcon ‘stooping’ to take a rising pheasant, the sheriff caught the briefly motionless tail with both hands. Having achieved his objective, he backed away so the rope would once more be drawn taut.
At that moment, the cougar regained its wits!