Evening Star Newspaper, December 9, 1934, Page 91

THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C., DECEMBER 9, 1934 OLD CHAP HAS KILLED 600 LIONS Ben Lilly, Now 80 Years OJd, Is Uncle Sam’s Champion Lion Killer—He Is a Veteran of Many Thrilling Battles and Some of Them Read Like Fiction. Once a Guide for President Theodore Roosevelt. BY GENE DAY. ILLER of 600 mountain lions; a hunter who has bagged more game animals than any rival in the great Southwest; & hulk of a man who never knew either fear or {fatigue; former guide for “Teddy” Roosevelt and professional gunman for Uncle S8am—introducing Ben Lilly, who is spending his sunset years on the G. O. 8. Ranch, near Silver City, N. Mex. Lilly by name, but lon hunter by trade—what & story he has to tell! But one which in its entirety will never be narrated. For there is but one who can tell the astounding tale which would resemble the most fantastic fiction, but which would be predicated on startling and spectacular facts. And this veteran of so many death-daring battles that the mere enumeration of all of them would make you dizxy has for decades refused to talk about himself and his amazing experiences. That is why this yarn about Lilly resembles & jigsaw puzsle. It has been pieced and patched together—a few facts here and a few more there, gained from this dean of Govern- ment hunter’s friends and acquaintances. That'’s our alibi for what this story lacks. If you possess enough imagination possibly you can supply the missing facts to round out this piece about & man whose every act and action for some three-score years were breeders of excitement. At an age when the most of us were struggling with the complexities of freshman algebra, Lilly, shouldering rifie and 60-pound pack, left his comfortable Louisiana home. Seeker after sdventure and obsessed by a dominant desire to become a master of track and trail, trap and trigger, the youngster plunged into the labyrinth of Southern canebrakes and did not emerge again until he was seasoned and schooled n all the wiles of nature and the haunts, habits and handicraft of wild life. That constituted his scholastic training in the art of coping with the killers of swamp and woodland, plateau and plain. Then Lilly went West for advanced education in that inimitable hatchery of hunt- ing thrills, the Rocky Mountains. In time, Lilly gained fame as a hunter and guide. The experts of the United States Geological Survey hired him sporadically to collect specimens of predatory animals for re- search purposes. Later the record gunner out fact, however, about Lilly, the lion hunter, is that no rival has ever even come close to dropping as many of the panther species. Thriller among thrills in Lilly’s life was the never-to-be-forgotten day when he ventured unarmed some distance from his camp. Lilly's dogs—they consisted of Kentucky fox hounds and several crosses between the famous Walker hound and the bloodhound—had accompanied This is Ben Lilly on the trail. their master. They soon discovered the hot trail of a mountain lion and pursued the beast. Lilly, whose only weapon was a small hunting knife with a 4-inch biade, kept after the hwnds.vmdop.mturn.&ove!.be'ud beast—she was an infuriated lioness aroused to frenzy by the fact that she had cubs nearby to defend—toward Lilly. Ordinarily, the American mountain lion, which weighs about 200 pounds, is a cowardly prowler and plunderer and adverse to attacking a human being unless cornered. But this particular lioness, the species is also called cougar, panther, puma and catamount, was maddened by the fact that she thought the hunter and hounds intended to harm her young. As soon as the cougar saw Lilly, she charged. Snarling, clawing and with her pow- erful shoulder muscles tensed for the attack, the enraged lioness leaped at Lilly, or rather at the spot where the hunter had been. Big Ben, wise in the ways of the species, side- e ———— stepped as the panther left the ground hunch- ed in a hurtling heap and intent on felling her enemy with the mighty impact of her attack. As THE lionness flashed by, Lilly slashed her with his fragile knife. With the alacrity which the ferocious couger displays when fighting™for life, the female seemed to re- bound instead of sprawling in a heap when her charge missed the victim. In a split second she had leaped again, lashing out at the hunter with needle-edged claws. And again he dodged her attack and stabbed her. That offense and defense continued as long as Lilly was able to evade the fury of the wild beast. Eventually, however, she closed with him, ripping his torso with razorlike gashes, never desisting from the wild attack; even infuriated more than ever by the smell of human blood. If a motion picture could have been made of the desperate battle that ensued for the next half hour, it would have rated as an epic among animal pictures. Lilly knew mountain lion anatomy better than the best animal trainer. His long experience with the wild lions had schooled him in every trait of the species. He was able to anticipate every fight- ing move of the lioness. He countered with a slash or stab of the knife aimed at some vital point every time the lion charged, leaped or reared up on her hind legs intent on clawing and biting his throat, neck, chest and torso in efforts to reach his vital organs. Time and again, the knife sank into or gashed the back and sides of the milling, writhing, wrestling lioness. Lilly’s clothes were clawed to shrads, flesh was stripped from his arms and legs; his midriff was cut and scratched, his breath came in gasps, he groaned and grunted with pain while the panther spit, snarled and even moaned in distress and fury. The yelping, snapping, raging pack of dogs which did their best to aid their owner in his flerce fizht for life coniributed a staccatic chorus to the ture moil. With drama as awe-inspiring as that which introduced the bloodthirsty battle, it came to & conclusion when Lilly finally rammed home the death thrust. The lioness collapsed in a wel- ter of blood and gore with powerful muscles still twitching and with the reflexes at work as she slumped in a sprawling mass, never again to arise. ® The hunter, reddened by blood, and reeling from exhaustion, staggered a few steps, lost consciousness and flopped to the ground with- in a few yards of his fallen foe. There he lay for hours, exhausted by his efforts and feeble from the loss of blood, while his dogs, whimper- ing and weaving about in the brush, licked at his face and hands and could not understand why he did not get up and return to camp. The hounds stood watch until sunset. The cool of the evening eventually aided in arousing Lilly. Ultimately he was able to crawl back to camp, where he bathed and dressed his many wounds as best he could. For weeks he re- mained close to camp while recuperating. It was six months before the lion-killer was re= tored to full health and activity after his closest call from death. ILLY is reputed to know more about Ameri- can mountaln lions than any other living man. This panther is the greatest natural enemy of deer, and when game is scarce he Continued on Ninth Page.