IN THE PRESENCE OF MOUNTAIN LIONS

By Erin Yoes, Staff Biologist, Plateau Land & Wildlife Management

It was just another day in the field for me, combing through a property, surveying for the presence of either the endangered Golden-cheeked Warbler or Black-capped Vireo. The land was rich in juniper, agarito, prickly pear, and cat-claw mimosa. Not only is this difficult terrain to navigate, but, as you push through, the cracking and scraping of branches also makes it extremely difficult to hear birds singing. For this reason, I made periodic stops in different areas to make sure I was hearing any bird that might be around. It was on one of these breaks that I had one of the most interesting days in my field career, and this was after I was forced to climb a tree to avoid a feral hog earlier that morning.

I was in the bottom of a canyon where the vegetation was thin enough to allow me to work my way along the canyon floor in a way I could still easily hear birds. While looking around, I noticed a cave-like opening about 30 feet up in the canyon wall. Always the biologist, I went up to take a look. When I got there I noticed a large pile of scat at the edge of the opening. As I examined it more closely, it appeared to have 2 or 3 hairs embedded within it. My thoughts raced as I tried to pinpoint what animal could have produced such a mess. No matter what it was, I knew it was probably in my best interest to move on before that animal got back, so I did just that.

About a half hour later, after a nervous departure from the scene I just took in, I came out of the canyon and into the inlet of a nearby lake. Drawing closer to the water's edge, I saw what appeared to be fresh tracks leading out of the canyon, to the water, and then back into the canyon again. Upon closer observation, I detected there were actually two sets. One was a large set that appeared to be feline in nature, while those next to it were ones similar in appearance but smaller in size. Maybe a mom and cub, I thought. I took a few extremely quick pictures before heading off, just in case the owners of the tracks were still in the area. The entire walk back to the truck, I couldn't help but think that I had just documented the presence of a mountain lion in the area.

A photo of one of the tracks Erin found near the lake inlet, left. Paw print area highlighted, right.

At the end of the survey, the other two surveyors and I discussed what we had seen. One recounted seeing some spooked javelina followed by an unknown animal that made a "hissing-growl" sound as it ran off. As he surmised what it might have been, I interrupted him with my track photos. His eyes widened and he began to smile. He agreed with my earlier conclusion, and after consulting a field guide we confirmed the identification. It's a little unnerving knowing that I was in the presence of such an extraordinary and massive predator. Although I never saw more than its remnants, it was undeniably thrilling to have been near the presence of this secretive and solitary, extraordinary and massive predator that has been an integral part of Texas wildlife for thousands of years, as evidenced by the paintings and pictographs of Native Americans and the fossil record.

While I haven't been in the wildlife field too long -- I joined Plateau last October -- I have been in long enough to appreciate such finds. They don't happen all the time.