Yet it is foolish to deny that in exceptional instances attacks may occur.  Cougars vary wonderfully in size, and no less in temper.  Indeed I think that by nature they are as ferocious and bloodthirsty as they are cowardly; and that their habit of sometimes dogging wayfarers for miles is due to a desire for bloodshed which they lack the courage to realize.  In the old days, when all wild beasts were less shy than at present, there was more danger from the cougar; and this was especially true in the dark canebrakes of some of the southern States where the man a cougar was most likely to encounter was a nearly naked and unarmed negro.  General Hampton tells me that near his Mississippi plantation, many years ago, a negro who was one of a gang engaged in building a railroad through low and wet ground was waylaid and killed by a cougar late one night as he was walking alone through the swamp.

I knew two men in Missoula who were once attacked by cougars in a very curious manner.  It was in January, and they were walking home through the snow after a hunt, each carrying on his back the saddle, haunches, and hide of a deer he had slain.  Just at dusk, as they were passing through a narrow ravine, the man in front heard his partner utter a sudden loud call for help.  Turning, he was dumbfounded to see the man lying on his face in the snow, with a cougar which had evidently just knocked him down standing over him, grasping the deer meat; while another cougar was galloping up to assist.  Swinging his rifle round he shot the first one in the brain, and it dropped motionless, whereat the second halted, wheeled, and bounded into the woods.  His companion was not in the least hurt or even frightened, though greatly amazed.  The cougars were not full grown, but young of the year.

Now in this case I do not believe the beasts had any real intention of attacking the men.  They were young animals, bold, stupid, and very hungry.  The smell of the raw meat excited them beyond control, and they probably could not make out clearly what the men were, as they walked bent under their burdens, with the deer skins on their backs.  Evidently the cougars were only trying to get at the venison.

In 1886 a cougar killed an Indian near Flathead Lake.  Two Indians were hunting together on horseback when they came on the cougar.  It fell at once to their shots, and they dismounted and ran towards it.  Just as they reached it it came to, and seized one, killing him instantly with a couple of savage bites in the throat and chest; it then raced after the other, and, as he sprung on his horse, struck him across the buttocks, inflicting a deep but not dangerous scratch.  I saw this survivor a year later.  He evinced great reluctance to talk of the event, and insisted that the thing which had slain his companion was not really a cougar at all, but a devil.