Unable to hunt during the 1994 deer season due to bypass surgery, I visited Roy and Marj Sawyer in Sardis, Mississippi in January 1995 where the season was still open. It was warm and rainy, and though not expecting the deer to be moving much, I told Roy that I would like to sit in a deer-stand.
Roy took me to an elevated box-stand on the north side of a bean field. The field was about fifty yards wide; began about 125 yards to the left (east) of the stand; passed in front of the stand and then turned south about 150 yards west of the stand, meandering along the west side of a wood line and then a Cypress swamp. Roy suggested I keep an eye on a cocklebur patch at the end of the field to my left where a nice buck had been seen using a trail that cut through the cocklebur patch. We agreed to meet at the truck after dark, and Roy moved to another stand about 500 yards away.
I enjoyed watching birds and being outdoors, but no deer entered the field. The sun sat, and the shadows were darkening the field when I noticed movement to my left. Looking through the scope, I saw a black animal I thought might be a Labrador retriever moving through the cocklebur patch. As I observed through my rifle scope, I noticed it wasn't moving nose down and sniffing out the ground like a hunting dog.
Knowing it wasn't a deer, I exchanged my rifle for binoculars. I could see the large black animal moving slowly but steadily, and, emerging from the cockleburs, it paused on the opposite side of the field from me, and then turned down the bean field heading in my direction. To my astonishment, I saw that it was a very large cat, about knee high, with a body about three feet long. It carried a tail at least as long as its body horizontally- perhaps curved slightly upward...
The creature was about 10 yards from the far side of the field and moved along the south side of the field in my direction. Its movements were smooth and feline. It would walk about fifteen or twenty feet and stop with its muzzle raised as if scenting the air. It continued directly past me and was about 40 yards away at its closest point. I continued to watch it through the binoculars until it reached a point near where the field turned south towards the Cypress Swamp. By that time, it was so dark, I couldn't see it.
I sat in the stand for about fifteen minutes longer thinking about what I had seen and about having to get down out of that stand in the dark with a large feline predator in the area. Roy and I met along the trail back to the truck. When I began to describe what I had seen, Roy said, 'You saw the panther."
My father told me stories when I was a small boy growing up on the edge of the Mississippi delta about how his father who was a country doctor in Tallahatchie County used to hear panthers squall when he was making night calls on horseback. He also told me stories about deer camps in Issaquena County before I was born where, when a panther squalled as night settled, my older brother would run out of the tent, fire his pop-gun, and run back inside.
A friend who had heard about my experience discussed it with a game biologist. He was told that no panthers exist in Mississippi, and though some of our feline wildlife can reach significant size, none of them are black. Though other sightings have been reported, no indisputable evidence of the existence of panthers in Mississippi exists. That sure leaves me with a problem. I know what I saw, and I thank God for the experience. I only wish I had had a good camera on that magic day in January 1995, or I wish I had had a biologist to walk that dark trail with me when I came down out of the 'Panther stand.'
This wonderful experience in the field inspired the following poem.
|