Cougars, Bears and Poker Country

My brother Legs and I had adopted Arizona as our new home and we loved it.

We were living in a rundown motel called the Rosemarie on East VanBuren Street, just a couple of blocks from Bill Johnson's Big Apple, our favorite restaurant. I was working as a reporter on a daily newspaper and Legs had a job painting homes for a cowboy contractor named Charlie Orr.

Charlie Was a Real Cowboy

He owned a ranch before he got into the building business. He was a good horseman, a crack shot and he loved to play poker. Legs and I both were hunters and we had secured our deer hunting licenses to hunt in an area just outside the mile-high city of Prescott, AZ., about 60 miles north of Phoenix.

Orr owned a cabin in the mountainous area and invited Legs and me to be his guests for the weekend. There were a couple of other people who were invited along for the hunt.

'We'll make a poker journey out of it,' he said. 'We'll hunt wild animals during the day and play poker when the sun goes down.' The idea sounded fine and we agreed to follow Charlie to his cabin in the pines.

Charlie drove a pickup and my brother and I followed him to Prescott in our Impala convertible. I had a .270 Remington with a scope sight and Legs had borrowed a .30-30 rifle from Orr to use in the hunt.

As we pulled off the main highway...

...onto a dirt road leading to Orr's cabin, a flash of tawny brown streaked by the side of our car.

'Cougar!,' I shouted, slamming on the brakes. Before the car came to a stop, I had exited the front seat, rifle in hand, and was running after a large mountain lion that was streaking for the trees.

I Dropped to One Knee

And barely got the lion in my sights, and squeezed off a round before it vanished into the forest. My heart was still pumping like a freight train going uphill when I climbed back into the car.

Charlie's two friends proved to be as friendly as he was. His wife had come along for the weekend and she cooked us up a fine venison dinner along with pinto beans and corn on the cob. Then we all sat down to play poker.

Before the game started, Charlie called Legs aside.

'Legs, there's a spring just down the trail from the cabin,' he said. 'We're going to need some water so would you mind going down there and collecting a couple of buckets for our use?'

'No problem,' Legs said. He took the two empty buckets Orr gave him and headed out the door.

'Watch this,' Charlie whispered to the rest of us.

He hurried to the rear of the cabin and unfolded a bear skin complete with head, jaws and teeth and draped it over his body. Then he left the cabin through the rear door and headed down to the spring parallel to Legs who was unaware of his presence.

We Listened Carefully.

The night was silent except for the distant yelps of coyotes. Suddenly we heard a scream. I recognized the voice of my brother. The next thing I knew the front door burst open and my wild-eyed brother skidded across the floor, still holding onto the empty buckets.

'B-B-B-BEAR!,' he screamed.

The bear entered the cabin behind him and Charlie, grinning like a Cheshire cat, removed the costume.

We Played Poker

It was until around 1 a.m. before we finally settled down for the night. My brother was still shaken from his experience and made sure the door's double locks were bolted.

A light snow fell that night and when we left the cabin at 5 a.m., we walked through an inch of the white stuff. Charlie knew the country and assigned each of the hunters to a district, pointing out where the vehicles would be parked.

'This is big country and it's easy to get lost back here,' he said. 'You don't want to fall off one of these cliffs in the darkness. That could get you killed.'

All that morning I hunted. I saw a couple of antlered deer but they were too far away to risk a shot. I didn't see any of my fellow hunters, so I stayed within the perimeters of my hunting district.

I must have walked 10 miles or more that day. Toward late afternoon I gave up the hunt. I retraced my steps and managed to find my way back to my car. A short time later Charlie and the other hunters showed up. But Legs wasn't one of them.

It gets dark fast in the desert. As the shadows darkened around us, I heard two shots in the distance.

'That's my brother,' I told our group. 'He's lost.'

Without waiting for their response...

...I pulled my car onto a rise so the headlights would shine into the dark Arizona sky. I kept the car on the incline for nearly an hour. Sure enough, my brother staggered into our circle. He had seen my headlights.

'I almost fell into a cliff,' he said breathlessly. 'All I could see in front of me was a bear waiting to eat me.'

The next day Legs shot a deer. Charlie and I, along with the two other hunters, came up empty. I think that was the last deer hunt my brother ever went on.

Author: Geno Lawrenzi Jr.

(Geno Lawrenzi Jr. is an international journalist, magazine author and ghostwriter and poker player who lives in Phoenx, AZ. He has published 2,000 articles in 50 magazines and 125 newspapers. If you want to share a gambling story or book idea with him, send an email to glawrenzi@gmail.com ).