Biology Reference
In-Depth Information
the fall, but may also remain with her through the winter. In the southern portions of its range, the bob-
cat may have two litters a year.
Both bobcat and lynx are wary, elusive, and seldom seen. This trait is much more evident in the bob-
cat, however, because it frequents far more settled country than the lynx usually inhabits. The bobcat's
mainly nocturnal ways add to the difficulty of seeing one, and many people who have spent much time
in the woods for years have never laid eyes on a single bobcat. Thus I count myself as extraordinarily
fortunate to have had one memorable encounter with this elusive feline.
It was Thanksgiving Day, 1971. I was deer hunting, perched in a tree overlooking an old field that
had grown up to tall grass and, here and there, scrubby little bushes. It was over two hundred yards to
the woods at the lower edge of the field, and one of my hunting partners was ensconced another hun-
dred yards or so down in the trees, over a steep bank.
The ground was still bare, but the lowering sky was a dark, forbidding gray as the first few flakes
of snow began to fall. As I looked toward the bottom of the field, I caught a brief sight of a smallish,
stocky animal. At that distance it resembled a squat little dog, and the thought crossed my mind that
someone's Scottie might be running loose. Then the snow began to descend in earnest, and I completely
forgot about the animal. Faster and faster came the whirling flakes, and in an hour or so there were a
number of inches of snow on the ground, while every little shrub and tussock was draped in a thick
mantle of white.
Only twenty or thirty yards below me was a path where my hunting partner had trampled the long
grass on his daily trips to his chosen hunting spot. Without warning or any prior hint of movement, a
bobcat materialized in the path and stood there, almost facing me. I was stunned by its sudden appear-
ance, but had presence of mind enough to raise my rifle and view the cat through the scope.
Several thoughts ran through my mind as the scope revealed the cat in wondrous detail. The first was
what a beautiful animal it was. The second was that its bold facial markings were almost identical to
those of our two gray tiger tabbies. The third was that it was one very cross-looking cat, seemingly at
odds with the whole world! I marveled at the sight—and then, as if without motion, the cat dematerial-
ized as mysteriously as it had appeared.
Some time later I made out the form of my hunting partner, trudging uphill through the swiftly deep-
ening snow. I hurried down to meet him, and excitedly asked, “Guess what I saw, Art?”
“A bobcat,” he replied.
“How did you know?”
“Well,” he informed me, “just as it was starting to snow, I heard a noise in the leaves up the bank
from me. I turned, and there were a mother bobcat and three kittens that were about three-quarters
grown. They saw me and scattered in all directions.”
