48: October/November 2006
I once saw a one of those big cats that everyone keeps going on about.
I was up on Tregonning Hill, on the Wheal Vor side, one autumn evening, looking for the air filter box that had fallen off my scrambler motor bike the previous day.
We used to ride our bashed up, off road bikes up on the hill; I don’t think you’d be allowed to do this kind of thing today. I was looking along the track when I saw something dart out from behind a gorse bush.
It was a large black cat. It wasn’t the size that made my hair stand on end, but the way it prowled and stalked as it moved across the hill. After a few minutes watching, I moved nearer. The cat became aware of my presence and froze, glaring at me for intruding its space. Then it was gone, bounding off quickly down the hill and leaping over a granite hedge.
I walked down to see if there were any paw prints when, from behind a bush, a big, red-haired man leapt out at me.
“Yew, Pengelly,” he said. “See that cat, did ‘ee?”
