We hunted dove, quail, rabbit and squirrel from the time we were big enough to walk. First time my brother and I went deer hunting, with Dad and Uncle; I was 12 and brother was 10.
We got to the ranch where we were hunting and stopped at the ranchers house.
He was giving directions to where to hunt, where he had spotted bucks and where we could camp. He then warned us that a mountain lion had been seen roaming the area, to be careful it did not get in the sleeping with us. ??????
We set up camp and cooked supper. We were in sleeping bags, under the stars, circling the camp fire.
About 2am, the god awfullest screaming and yowling woke us up. My brother was hollering, screaming, and crying; kicking and thrashing in his sleeping bag. Rolled into the campfire and got his bag to burning. Rolled out of the fire and ended up setting Dad's sleeping bag on fire.
Brother's bag was shredded down at end. He came scrambling out and we were stomping out the fire.
About this time, the farmer's barn, tomcat comes scrambling out of the bag and high tails it into the dark.
The cat had a propensity for crawling into sleeping bags to get warm, which the rancher had told Dad. Just by luck(?), it crawled into my brother's bag. Got down by his feet, curled up and went to sleep. Brother woke up and felt fur. He started kicking. Cat started scratching and yowling. Brother started screaming, yelling, and crying.
We spent the rest of the night in the car. My brother has never deer hunted again.