Lion Hunt

 

He was hungry and resented the shoddy cage he was in. The morning air was cold; his neck was all that was warm. He wanted out, and when you weigh 500 to 600 pounds, nothing can hold you for long.

It was February 27, 1978. Sheriff John J. Lyght got a call from Joan Maw, who said her African lion had broken out of its cage.

A black man with short black hair and calm eyes, Sheriff Lyght looked the part of “Speak softly, and carry a big stick.” Weighing 220 pounds and standing six feet two inches, John looked like a fighter.

The Maws lived in Lutsen, up on Caribou Lake. Neighbors lived very close by, and skiers might be skiing near their home. Sheriff Lyght’s first thought was to get rid of the lion.

Mrs. Maw, part owner and trainer of the lion, didn’t want the lion anymore. She had told Sheriff Lyght that in the past year the lion had become aggressive and hard to handle, and she was afraid of it.

The Sheriff called his Deputy, Richard Dorr, at home. A state trooper, Jim Dols, was also there, so he went along to search for the lion.

The three men drove up in one car, filled with tension. The atmosphere in the car could have been cut by a knife, or a lion’s claw.

When they got close to the Maw’s residence, they passed a skier; they had to move fast. The men didn’t know if the lion had left the Maw’s residence, and they had no idea whether anyone was hurt or dead.

The plan was that Sheriff Lyght would have a 35 Remington, Deputy Dorr would have a 30/30, and the state trooper would have a 308 rifle. They would then slowly get out of the car so the animal would not be alarmed, count to three, and fire.

They arrived at the Maw’s residence. The driveway was long, and trees closely lined it to their left. To the right a shorter road to the house cut off from the main road. They stopped by the reddish brown garage and climbed out of the car slowly. The lion stood in front of them, watching apprehensively, considering the men carefully.

“One … Two . . . Three . . . The icy air was broken by the shattering noise of gunfire. Three shots were fired, one apiece.

The lion was dead, and no one had been injured. Sheriff Lyght heaved a sigh of relief. In all the cases he had dealt with, he never dreamed he would hunt an African lion on the North Shore of Lake Superior.

Celebrate Cook County’s heritage this September! Cook County Historical Society was established in 1924, before the road to Grand Marais was completed and during a time when visitors still arrived by steamship or dog sled. Since that time, the organization has been fulfilling its mission to collect, preserve and share the history and art of Minnesota’s northeastern most county. During our membership drive this month, please consider becoming a sustaining member or upgrading your existing membership to help support the care and sharing of the Cook County collections.

Visit www.cookcountyhistory.org to find out more!