In which I face the fearsome PUMA

How Kola.

Nearly four months now the Canada geese flew south and the snow is very deep. It is long timesince I wrot to you, but I have gone a long ways and folled some hard trails since that time. The little wee sorryful animals I tol you about sit around me tonight, and so they dont get tired and go away I write to you now. I guess they like to see me workin.

Far west, in the snows that fell on Tipping Creek just before the large beaver dam, I saw a large den workin to fell the timber near the shallows.  Little hands groomed and held thebark as the teeth bit the wood and the trees fell in.  They were busy and happy, and knew that I would be no harm to them.

I soon heard a noise coming in the direction of the aspen grove on the hill not far from the creek.  It could be the wolves comin to eat the beaver young or to just cause trouble to keep their territory.  I heard the snow crunch and leaves crackle.  I picked up my rifle and tracked to the east of the noise, downwind to keep quiet.  It some big thing in the woods, moving quickly to the main fort road.  It was a puma.  I never saw a puma but I know cougars and bobcats roam these woods.  This Puma was large as my hut and moved quickly and silently.  It was big and black like the raven, and you could see it was big enough to swallow a man whole.

I picked up my rifle and tried to get a shot, but the cat was moving at 20+ k.p.h. and had a thick shiny coat that looked like the night bear had seized upon it.  The Puma sensed me coming and moved quickly along the trail, silently but fast as I could run.  I got no whiff of the strong musky smell these animals will make when they mean business, and I saw right away I was up against it; no fooling this time.  Finally I chased it onto Pigeon Lake, that small pond that iced over last fall when I was near Chicoutimi.  The Puma came towards me, and commenced to worry at the air, for all the world.  I was right out on the weak spot, and as it moved up on me, the ice and snow commenced to groan and crack with the extra weight, and I could see myself being soon measured for a harp and a pair of wings unless things took a change.  This time I had the thirty-two special, and felt right at home. I didn’t stop to do any figuring, but let go a few with the old artillery.  The light was poor, and although I pass for being pretty handy with the hardware, the lobo didn’t fall.   It was smart and could manoover fast and quick as any wolf.   Within a few moments it was gone.

In short I think this thing is just what GM needs to turn itself around.

I’ll be seeing you.