The Puma or Cougar, of North and South America, is generally called a lion, but he has no mane, or tufted tail, and when young, his pale, fawn coat, is striped with blackish brown. These marks however, disappear with age. He is the largest of the feline tribe on that continent, and is very destructive to smaller animals. He rarely attacks man, and on some occasions evinces as much courage as the true lion, and a curious observation has been made by travellers, that he becomes less bold as he approaches to the north. One given to Professor Jamieson of Edinburgh, seemed to delight in playing with a tub of water, he also played with dogs and monkeys without the slightest interruption to their good understanding; but if a goat or a fowl came in sight, they were snapped up immediately. He made his escape one night in London; and offered no resistance when caught by a watchman. He is hunted on the Pampas by dogs, and the Indians secure him with the bolas or the lasso. He climbs trees with great facility; his skin makes excellent gloves; and many persons consider his flesh to be dainty food. Mr. Waterton, in one of his essays, makes some remarks, and relates a story which ought to be inserted in every book which treats of feline animals; therefore, although many others have quoted them, I do not apologize for inserting an abridgment of them here. He says, all animals of the dog tribe must be combated with might and main, and with unceasing exertion, in their attacks upon man; for from the moment they obtain the mastery, they worry and tear their victim as long as life remains in it. On the contrary, animals of the cat tribe, having once overcome their prey, cease for a certain time to inflict further injury upon it. Thus, during the momentous intervals, from the stroke which has laid a man beneath a lion, to the time when the lion shall begin to devour him, the man may have it in his power to rise again; either by his own exertions, or by the fortunate intervention of an armed friend. But then all depends upon quiet on the part of the man, until he plunges his dagger into the heart of the animal; for if he tries to resist, he is sure to feel the force of his adversary's claws and teeth with redoubled vengeance. Many years ago, Colonel Duff, in India, was laid low by the stroke of a Bengal tiger. On coming to himself, he found the animal standing over him. Recollecting that he had his dirk by his side, he drew it out of the case, in the most cautious manner possible, and by one happy thrust quite through the heart, he laid the tiger dead at his side.