You still, however, need luck to find a mountain lion. Bob and I were lucky. We cut tracks in fresh snow and followed them up-slope through brush and jumped a cougar from its bed. A mature cat, it streaked up-canyon with a fluid grace that left us gaping. Danny did better. Last winter, he tracked a cougar from dawn until noon, up into rimrocks. Rather than enter the rocks, Danny stationed himself above just as the curious cat padded into view on his track. A .25/06 bullet claimed Danny's second cougar of the season.