Hand-Called AZ Lion 2008

[kidso]

This is the Story of My Second Lion.

 

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!!!! My portable alarm clock shouted louder and louder into my dreaming ears. It was 4:30 am. I rolled out of my sleeping bag and felt the chill of the cold mountain air run across my body. It was still dark all around me, except for the faint glow of light provided by the stars and fading moon hanging in the night sky.

 

I was extremely excited because I was out hunting black bear in the rugged mountains of central Arizona with my good friend Brian. The area around us was full of deep canyons and rolling hills covered with prickly pear cactus. We hoped that some monster-sized bears would come down from higher mountainous elevations and venture forth into these lower rolling foothills to feast upon the ripening purple colored fruit of this succulent cactus.

 

I quietly dressed in my camouflage hunting clothing that I had previously washed in a special detergent to remove human scent and ultraviolet colors that otherwise could scare away wild animals and alert them to my presence in the area. If I knew anything at all about bear hunting, I knew that they had very sensitive noses that could practically smell a human from a mile away. Thus, I had to be certain not to take any chances with my scent if I hoped to meet up with a bear today. So I then proceeded to spray myself with a bottle of scent killer to further eliminate any suspicious odors that I might be producing.

 

My hunting partner then joined me and we quietly hiked away from our campsite along a four wheel drive road we had driven on the night before. It took us up a long mountain slope that worked its way along the ridge of a steep canyon. As we neared the canyon's edge, we peeked over to take a quick look below us and spotted a small brownish furry creature scurrying away into a thicket about 20 yards beneath us. We were not sure what is was, but it left us with a feeling of excitement, perhaps foreshadowing the thrill of what hopefully was to come.

 

We walked just a bit further before sitting down on the ridge top. We both lifted our binoculars to our eyes and began scanning the canyon below us and sides of the steep mountain just across from us, which just happened to be loaded with prickly pear cactus just begging to be devoured by black bears. After glassing these areas for about 20 minutes with no success, I decided to use my predator call to see if I could entice any predators in the area to come around for breakfast. I proceeded to blow on my call for nearly 40 minutes with no apparent luck, so Brian and I decided to hike further up the canyon and try our luck again.

 

After hiking about another quarter-mile along the canyon's edge, we eased ourselves quietly over its edge and seated ourselves on a hillside that had been cleared of trees and brush. It was risky to call from such an unprotected located that lacked good vegetative cover, but we decided to try it anyways because it gave us a nice view of the canyon beneath us. I commenced calling and within three to four minutes, I could hear Brian whispering something to me from his position about 10 yards off to my left. Because I couldn't understand what he was saying, I turned my head to face him. I still couldn't audibly connect with him, but I saw Brian's mouth forming the words "mountain lion."

 

My heart skipped a beat and nearly stopped dead in my chest. Mountain lion, I repeated to myself. Where? I frantically scanned the topography that lay in front of me, but I could see no sign of the prowling feline. I searched again. Nothing. Nothing but rocks and brush. Inwardly, I started to panic. Where was the big cat? Another minute passed, and then Brian again whispered, "Mountain lion." Only this time, he added the dreaded words, "Should I take the shot?" My heart sank into darkness and despair. I badly wanted to shoot the cougar, but I had no idea where it was and I could not locate it for the life of me! I sadly and slowly forced out my hesitant reply, "Sure Brian. Go ahead and take the cat."

 

I steadied my heartbeat and faced the terrain before me to watch for any sign of impact from Brian's shot, wherever it might strike, when ---BOOM!!! His rifle roared out like thunder clashing during an intense desert monsoon storm. Almost simultaneously with the loud noise, I observed a puff of dirt erupting 200 to 300 yards away from me in front of a large cedar tree on a down-sloping ridge. I immediately raised my binoculars to my face and glassed that exact spot while the dust was settling. Nothing. I saw no dead lion on the ground, nor any wounded cat limping or crawling away. I raised my binoculars ever so slightly higher and a twitching movement caught my eye. There, sitting on its haunches under an overhanging branch of the cedar tree was beautiful brown mountain lion, which was looking straight at me and wriggling its ears! Brian's shot had been about ten feet short of its sighted mark.

 

I quickly told Brian with an excited voice, "You were short by ten feet. Raise your rifle slightly and shoot again!" BOOM!!! Once again his shot echoed like thunder in the canyon. And once again, I saw dirt spew up into the air as his bullet fell short of its intended target by merely two feet. "Short again, I whispered to Brain. Raise your rifle up a bit more."

 

At this point, I opened my mouth in awe due to the fact that the devil cat had not fled the scene after having two bullets strike the earth directly in front of its position. As fate would have it, however, I dropped my jaw too soon, for the predatory feline began to walk out from underneath the cedar tree and began strolling along broadside in front of it. I immediately rushed out a pitiful shriek from the varmint call which stopped the cat in its tracks, if only for a brief moment. And in that instant, time seemed to stand still, although volumes of events unfolded before me.

 

As I stared off towards the beautiful beast, I realized that it was currently beyond my comfort range for striking its kill zone with a well-placed bullet. But at that instant, I heard my wife inside my head repeating her proverbial phrase of, "You're going to miss all of the shots you never take." Almost immediately, my conscious whispered that if Brian could take shots at that range, then I certainly could at least make an attempt at it as well. My mind raced backwards in time to our drive up the four-wheel drive mountain road the previous night when our conversation actually centered on the physics of how bullets drop in elevation as distance away from the rifle barrel increases. I knew that the 220 grain bullet in my 30.-06 would fall before it hit the cat, but I had no idea just how far it would actually drop. I quickly raised my rifle, peered through the scope, placed its crosshairs about a foot above the lion's front shoulder, held my breath, and squeezed the trigger.

 

Boom! My rifle bellowed my rifle like a Civil War cannon. I looked up just in time to see the great cat crash to the ground beneath him. Immediately, I excitedly began to shout, "I got him! I freaking got him! I shot the lion!"

 

"Yeah you got him alright," said Brian. "Great shot."

 

Just then, the mountain lion popped up from off the ground and began dragging its body downhill through some brush. As it was moving through the vegetation, I could clearly see that its back legs were dangling behind its body like dead weight and were in no way functioning to help propel the cat thorough the canyon. At that moment, I thought my bullet had struck its hip bones and shattered them, however, I would later find out that my initial shot had severed its spinal cord which actually paralyzed the rear half of the lion.

 

There was no way this feline was going to from me, so I carefully watched it disappear into the tall brush about 30 yards away from where I first dropped it and patiently waited for it to reappear on the opposite side in the shorter vegetation. After scrutinizing that area for 20 minutes with my binoculars for any movement, I decided that the great cat had finally expired and was down for good.

 

I began hiking across the canyon towards that thicket, while Brian stayed put on the hillside to guide me to the right location using our walkie-talkies. Nearly 20 minutes later, I arrived at the base of the cedar tree where I had previously struck the cat when it began walking away. I examined the ground while moving in the direction that the feline took on its flight out of the area and picked up its blood trail on the rocky ground. I immediately contacted Brian on the walkies to let him know I had a positive trail to follow, whereupon he begged me to sit on the site and wait for him to join me before proceeding further.

 

Waiting the 10 minutes for Brian to join me on the pursuit seemed to be the longest time span I ever had to wait for anything in my life! Eventually, though, he made it over to me and we began to follow the blood trail over the rocks and through the brush. Following the lion was easy because it left large swaths of blood painted on the vegetation every five to ten feet and its dragging hind legs were overturning rocks and breaking branches along its exit route. I tracked the cat by following its exact trail through the brush, under limbs, and into thickets. It probably wasn't the wisest thing to do in retrospect, but I wanted that cat and I was not about to lose its sign anywhere. Brian, however, stood in a clearing with his rifle and provided what little cover he could to protect me from any wounded charging beast.

 

Needless to say, when I was slithering on my belly like a rattlesnake under an overhanging cedar limb, Brian shouted out, "I see the cat!" My heart raced with adrenaline and fear and I began to panic, for I could not even raise my own rifle to defend myself if the situation required it. I quickly screamed out, "Where! Where's the lion?" Brian replied, "About 20 yards in front of you near the base of another cedar tree!" I scrambled out of the thicket as quickly as possible and saw pointing towards a cedar tree a bit lower on the ridge I was following down into the bottom of the canyon.

 

It was then that I spotted the great cat. There it was 50 or so feet away from me lying on its back with one massive arm reaching up and clawing its nails into an overhanging branch as it struggled to pull itself up on all fours. Without a moment of hesitation, I raised my rifle and sent another bullet whizzing through the air to find its mark just behind the raised shoulder of the feline. The lion’s body whirled over from the impact and the cat took off running again through the brush. I could hear it crashing through the vegetation for a period of about eight seconds, which was followed by a one to two second soundless period, which immediately was followed by a tremendously loud splash.

 

I raced down the hill without thinking of my safety and discovered that the wildcat had scurried through the brush to end of a rock outcropping that jutted about 15 feet above a small intermittently flowing creek beneath it, before falling off the edge and plunging into a deep pool below. The sight beneath me was almost surreal. There on the edge of a pool of green-blue water lay the enormous yellow-brown cat, with half of its body in the water, and half of it lying on the adjacent black basalt rocks. Already, blood was leaking through its wounds and tainting the opalescent water around it a dark scarlet color.

 

I practically slid down the rocks and approached my cat. She was absolutely beautiful. I grabbed her by the front paws and heaved her from out from pool. Brian helped me carry her a few yards away to a fallen tree where we photographed our hard-earned prize. She was indeed an amazing beast, and I was filled with unspeakable exhilaration. As a hunter who predator calls exclusively for bear and lion, I can only hope for the opportunity to repeat this adventure again...but next time, I hope it will be with a monster-sized bear!

[thegunsmith2506]

nice story. thanks for posting

[loco4coues]

cool story, thanks for sharing

[bonecollector]

Great write up and congrats.

[Guest Bandido]

You took a shot you weren't sure of. You could have lost an animal and possibly got tore up by it when you went in to finish it. You're lucky. Don't get me wrong I'm glad it worked out.

[Chef]

Great story.

I'm glad you took the time to put it in print.

I especially loved your description of the sight below you as you saw the cat in the water.

My mind was there with you!

 

Congrats!

[CouesWhitetail]

Thanks for taking the time to write up your hunt! Congratulations on your cat.

 

[TREESTANDMAN]

Awesome experience!!! Congrats on a beautiful Cougar!! Very nice write up as well.

[Coues Archer]

nice

[newalleye]

Very neat.

[grange09]

You took a shot you weren't sure of. You could have lost an animal and possibly got tore up by it when you went in to finish it. You're lucky. Don't get me wrong I'm glad it worked out.

 

 

Always someone out there that doesnt agree with the way someone hunts. Great story, lion and pics

[MangeyJoe]

Great post, and thank you for sharing an amazing story of your great experience. Your wife's voice echoing in your conscious was right and you followed it. CONGRATS on a beautiful feline, and I tip my hat to you since you did something that alot of people never achieve without the help of dogs . I can't wait to post my experience when I hunt for my mountain lion this year, I bought my tag recently and that's all I been thinking about .

[Healy Arms]

Well done! On calling the cat and writing the story.

[tjhunt2]

Great story and congratulations on your lion.

 

TJ

[AZ FSJ'r]

great kill. and great write up.