Mountain Lion Trapper
As a kid we were all enthralled by the stories spewing from old timers sitting by the wood stove at the feed store about their trapping days. Old Rupert McCoy, who was a regular at the store and a great storyteller, accounted in detail about his exploits as a trapper. He said he had trapped every wild, fur bearing, animal in the woods from here to west Texas. And, he added, made a lot of money while enjoying living out in nature. We encouraged him in his telling.
”Tell us about trapping that mountain lion Rupert,” we asked even though we had heard the story often enough to tell it ourselves.
“Well, I was camped up in the Chios Mountains out west. In fact it was in the Big Bend country…a wild and lonely place, don’t you know. I found a trail this cat was using on his rounds and set a big #8 steel trap for him. I baited it with a little cotton tailed rabbit I had killed,” he said. ”Next morning as I approached the trap, I could tell that lion had been there. The rabbit was gone, the grass and bushes was all torn up, and my trap was missing.”
“What did you do then,” we asked.
“Well, I baited another trap with a rabbit. This time I set a #10 steel trap and fastened the chain to a bigger bush. The next morning I carefully approached the trap site and found that mountain lion had been there again during the night. He had eaten the rabbit and made off with my other trap. This time I set two #12 traps about three feet apart and baited with another couple of rabbits.”
“Did that get him Rupert?” we asked.
“It sure did,” he said. ”Next morning I came to the spot and there he was, caught by one front leg and one back leg…stretched out squalling loud enough to awaken the whole mountain side.”
We enjoyed the story as often as we could trick Rupert into telling the tail. But it had an effect on us kids. We all wanted to hunt big game out in the mountains and sell the fur and become rich.
I had an Uncle that had a bunch of steel traps that I could borrow. I found a likely rock bluff, up San Gabriel Creek, with crevices, bushes, and everything. I knew, for sure, there must be a mountain lion around somewhere close. I fastened the trap’s chain to a persimmon tree, baited the trigger with a chicken wing from Mother’s kitchen, and set the trap.
The next morning, just at daylight, I eagerly went to claim my trophy. As I approached the site I could hear the chain rattling, and see it wiggling at the mouth of a crevice. I had caught a lion for sure. I ran all the way back to the house and got Mom to bring the gun and help me with my lion. With a stick I pulled on the trap’s chain and out came…a big, creek wood rat.
That ended my grand adventure of becoming a great, rich, story telling, trapper like Rupert McCoy.