I hid behind a breastwork of rotten logs, with a few young evergreens in front--an excellent ambush.

A broad game trail slanted down the hill directly past me.

I lay perfectly quiet for about an hour, listening to the murmur of the pine forests, and the occasional call of a jay or woodpecker, and gazing eagerly along the trail in the waning light of the late afternoon.

Suddenly, without noise or warning of any kind, a cougar stood in the trail before me.

The unlooked-for and unheralded approach of the beast was fairly ghost-like.
With its head lower than its shoulders, and its long tail twitching, it slouched down the path, treading as softly as a kitten.