Although, during the whole of our journey, we were constantly coming upon evidences of the presence of pumas round and about our camps, it was not until we had entered the Cordillera that they actually reconnoitred the camp. In a forest near Lake Argentino, one moonlight night, two pumas circled round our camp, and for upwards of half an hour kept uttering their peculiar cry. Pumas often stampeded our horses and left plain tracks near the camp, but in spite of this they killed no animal, not even a dog, belonging to us.
Puma cubs in captivity become very tame. One settler whom I met had two cubs about a year old. They were attached to their new home, and though they would follow a horse for two hundred yards or so, they invariably returned after a short distance to the shanty of their owner. Another puma cub had been kept by Mr. Cattle at Lake Argentino. This cub was wont to fight battles royal with the hounds, but in the cold of winter would lie among them for warmth. All these cubs were those of Felis concolor puma. So long as they were well fed they were docile, but when hungry their fierce nature reasserted itself. Mr. Cattle had finally to shoot the cub that belonged to him. Mr. Waring, however, still had his at the time of my departure. I heard these two killed a colt in the month of May
The study of the Cordillera wolf (Canis magellanicus) from the present point of view is exceptionally interesting. To this animal man is practically unknown, and it manifested the most utter fearlessness, when brought into contact with human beings, during our expedition. This wolf will advance within five or six yards of a man in open daylight; it will walk over him when asleep in camp. They haunted our camps about Lake Buenos Aires, lurking about all the night through and eating everything that came within their reach; then, instead of departing when daylight came, they usually remained crouching near by, and put in an appearance during breakfast-time with an absolute disregard or ignorance of probable danger from the neighbourhood of man.
On the River Fenix one of these wolves came into Rosy Camp during the night, stole a duck and a goose, and further gnawed my rifle-slings within a few feet of where I was sleeping. We only discovered our loss at dawn, and while we were still discussing it, I perceived the animal itself lying under a bush close at hand calmly watching us. Deprived of breakfast, I had no thought of mercy, and shot her with a Mauser. She was an old female. That night her mate paid us a visit, and frightened the horses, who seem to fear the large Cordillera wolf almost as much as the puma. I was rather crippled at the time with an injury to my knee, and was sitting by the fire. I happened to look up and caught sight of the wolf standing within a few yards of me. He quietly returned my look but made no movement to run away. In a moment or two I got up and limped across to fetch my gun, the wolf watching me with interest, but without the smallest sign of apprehension. As a matter of fact, he came a few steps nearer to me, still gazing at me fixedly. He also joined the majority in a very short space of time. We could not afford to have such desperate thieves about our camp. At another place in the same neighbourhood a wolf, coming in to investigate our camp, was attacked by my big deerhound Tom. The wolf made no attempt to escape but met his foe with a fearful bite, and in the end we had to go to Tom's assistance before the wolf could be killed.
Camp Thieves
Photochromogravure, Lyons & London.
From these instances it will be seen that the Cordillera wolf has absolutely no fear of man. The pampa fox shares this characteristic, but possesses it in a much less prominent degree. When I have been chasing one of these latter the animal has in more than one case stopped to regard me steadfastly, not with the timid curiosity of the huemul but with a fearless stare. Yet these foxes are hunted for their pelts. One evening I fired at a pampa fox and missed him. He retired at a slow lollop while I pursued him. When a couple of hundred yards had been covered, he halted, chose a bush, deliberately lay down and waited for me, his muzzle sunk upon his paws. I picked up a handful of gravel and tossed it at him. He rose, snarled, looked at me for a moment, and then walked slowly off.
The data given above suffice to show that different animals assume very various attitudes with regard to man on first introduction to knowledge of him. Not only this, but animals of the same species behave variously under these circumstances. My experience of Patagonian wild animals goes to prove that those to whom we were the first human visitors regarded us with extreme curiosity, and though in some cases there was a show of timidity, it was not to be confounded with any apprehension of violence at our hands.
To sum up the relative confidingness of the animals I met with, I propose to take the distance within which they will allow man to approach as a sort of scale: