That one is easy. Back in ’97 I was doing a lot of hunting in the Big South Fork region of southern KY. Buddy Joe Taylor was a local folklorist and storyteller, and we’d taken a shine to each other and Joe took me around a lot, showing me good places to hunt.

Joe was an odd mixture of things. He talked about the practical, the whimsical, and the absurd with equal conviction. He could discuss the intricacies of ginsenging in one breath and in the next start in on hoop snakes.

One of Joe’s favorite rants was about how there was a secret plot by the government to introduce rattlesnakes, cougars, and other exotic species into the BSF as well as Beaver Creek and the Boone National Forest. He claimed he’d seen black helicopters dropping snakes. He claimed he’d seen all sorts of things. One of the most bizarre was black panthers. He claimed it was all part of a major conspiracy that the government was introducing black panthers into the region while denying their existence.

One morning during deer season a terrible fog decended on the county. It was lucky I got held up leaving to hunt, because the fog descended right about the time I was set to leave. On those mountain roads, there’s no telling what might have happened. As it was, I stayed with Joe until about 11 sipping coffee and discussing scripture until the fog lifted a little. Joe said he knew a good spot and took me out in his car.

Up around Flat Rock we got off 27 and went back a few miles to a cliffline that came about 50 yards from the road. Joe had me bring my rifle along. There was a good herd of deer that would feed along a gulley running away from the cliff. Joe though they might be up and around in the fog. We took off hiking down through a hidden trail that wound down to the bottom of the cliff. We followed it. In and amongst the mud puddles we pased were a lot of deer tracks, a few bobcat, and one set of large cat tracks.

“That thar’s painter tracks.” Joe said, pointing them out to me.”Too big for bobcat.”

Joe explained that we were going to hike along the cliff face and get to a small cave he’d been coming to for fifty years. It would take close to an hour of hiking, even though the cave was only about a hundred yards from where we’d parked the car.

The fog had only lifted a little, and it made the hike seem otherworldly. We finally got to the cave and we got a fire going and we ate lunch. The cave was a vertical slit in the rock that went back only about 10 yards. It was bone dry and the tall slit made a perfect chimney for the fire. After an hour in the fog, we were chilled. The warmth of the fire felt good.

After lunch Joe tended the fire and I sat outside with my rifle. The smoke from the fire was being carried to the top of the cliff, and it created a bit of a draft inward, that I could watch sucking in swirls of fog. I was overlooking a gulley that ran downhill from an overhang in the rocks to my right. In most other states, this place would have been a tourist attraction. However, it was just one of many nameless places of incredible beauty Joe had taken me to over the years. I stayed there for while until it got dark and nasty and Joe came out of the cave and said the weather was changing and we’d best get out.

We had just left the cave and were turning a corner when Joe stopped.

“Get yur gun up.” he said. ” I smell cat.”

“I don’t think I can shoot bobcat today.” I replied.

“This ain’t no bobcat.” he hissed. “This is panther. He’s close too. I don’t like it none.” I caught the hint that we were being hunted.

I followed Joe’s lead and we ducked down behind some rocks. About this time, a young doe that had been walking up the gulley towards the overhang suddenly showed herself. She was walking along looking for bit to eat. The last thing I wanted was to bag a doe and have to schlep it up the cliff. However, if a nice buck had showed up I would have capped him. About 50 yards from us she stopped dead in her tracks and started staring up the cliff. In a flash she was off, pounding down the hill away from us.

“What did I tell ya?” Joe whispered. “Good place, ain’t it?”

“Yep.”

“I just am wonderin’ what got her so spooked.” he said, inching his way back up and cranning his neck to see what she had seen. “THERE!”

I stood up and looked to where he was pointing. There was a thick pocket of hemlock rooted into the cliff about 50 yards away and about 60 feet up the side of the cliff. Underneath was a coal black patch of fur. Just as I realized what I was seeing, the black patch exploded and a cat bounded up the cliff face and disappeared. It was too big for a housecat, too small for a full-grown mountain lion, and black as night.

“I guess we interrupted his lunch.” said Joe. “Be careful now, they like to hunt in pairs. The other one’s bound to be around.”

The fog was rapidly becoming a drizzle and the afternoon was rapidly turning darker. At Joe’s request, I left one in the chamber on the way out, and we made more noise than usual.

The big pourdown started just after we got to the car. On the way back, Joe repeated one of his tales about how a black panther had been killed a few years back and the mate had been trapped and sent to the Cincinnati Zoo.

I called the zoo when I got home and no one knew anything. I contacted a few mountain lion experts I found on the web, and they said the whole idea of mountain lions east of the Mississippi was pure hokum.

Joe’s dead. I haven’t hunted the Big South Fork in years, and we hardly ever get down that way anymore. However, I saw the Outdoor Life article on mountain lions this year and it made me think. I really started thinking when we were down a few weeks ago for some hiking and ran into a park ranger over by Yahoo Falls. We talked for about a half hour. He remembered Buddy Joe Taylor well, so I asked him about Buddy Joe’s black panther stories.

“I can’t say for sure,” he replied. “All I can say is everyone who claims to have seen one has no reason to lie. My daughter’s seen one. I haven’t.”

So is there a small black variety of mountain lion roaming the Kentucky/Tenessee boarder? I have no idea. If there is, I saw one.

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