Jaguars and Santa Claus
December 24, 1912, Oracle, Arizona
The convertible automobile contained Santa Claus and two beautiful elves who were wearing tight costumes with long luscious hair cascading over bare shoulders. The children had come from all the small ranching communities for miles around, Catalina, Casa Grande, Mammoth, Silverbell and more. For many of the rural Arizona children in attendance this was the first automobile they had ever seen. Santa Claus climbed out from the vehicle and addressed the crowd.
The children stared dumfounded, listening closely but not understanding a word Santa was saying. Santa Claus was speaking a foreign language. He spoke in the foreign language for a while before bothering to translate.
“I just greeted you in the Sioux language” Santa Claus said, his long white beard fluttering as he spoke. “I spoke of the Great Creator and how he made the whole world and especially how the Great Creator made Santa Claus so all the children of the world could be happy.”
The children cheered. The parents clapped politely. Santa Claus threw a green bottle high into the air, the bottle spinning quickly as it climbed. Faster than anyone in the audience could see, Santa Claus reached into his holster and pulled his .45 revolver, fanning the trigger and shattering the bottle. The audience went crazy as shards of green glass rained down from the sky.
This was not your average Santa Claus. The man in the Santa Claus suit was Buffalo Bill, William F. Cody in the flesh. Buffalo Bill had been the subject of newspaper articles, dime novels and his Wild West shows had toured the world, performing before presidents and kings. Buffalo Bill was one of the few human beings on the planet who was more famous than Santa Claus. Cody already had the long white beard and was a natural showman. He was the perfect Santa Claus.
Cody had come to Arizona because times were hard. There were so many Wild West shows touring the nation that some of the novelty had worn off and profits were down. Buffalo Bill had an idea. If he could somehow record his Wild West shows on this new-fangled invention called motion pictures, Cody was certain that he would have a surefire hit. The problem was that even in 1912, moviemaking was an expensive proposition. Cody had come to Oracle, Arizona searching for a lost Spanish mine dating back to the conquistadors, hoping to use the gold to finance his motion picture show. While he was there, he agreed to play Santa Claus for the local schoolchildren.
As the sun set, the entire Christmas party was moved inside the town hall where the fireplace was already roaring. Santa Claus entered with an elf on each arm. The beautiful young ladies rushed over to the fireplace, warming themselves inside their skimpy costumes. Soon the town hall was packed, people filling the place. The preacher led a prayer. Everyone held hands while singing “Silent Night”
Cody’s ranch hands presented him with a wondrous gift — a jaguar pelt. The big cat had been trapped on Cody’s ranch at nearby Campo Bonito. No one knew it at the time, but this jaguar would be the last one in Arizona. Jaguars were officially declared extinct in the United States in 1973.
A fiddler struck a jaunty tune and maybe it was the holiday spirit but soon everyone was dancing. Being a gentleman, William F. Cody danced with every lady who wanted to dance. Being the biggest celebrity anybody in these parts had ever seen, all the ladies wanted to dance with the dashing Buffalo Bill. All the partygoers, young, old and middle aged, lined the walls, clapping hands in time as the fiddler sawed his bow, and Buffalo Bill danced with all the local ladies. People began to clap faster, the fiddler played faster as Buffalo Bill and his parade of partners whirled and twirled across the dance floor. Soon, Buffalo Bill was exhausted.
Buffalo Bill stepped outside. Sweaty and gasping for breath, Cody removed the top half of the Santa Claus suit. It may have been a day of Arizona sun, but it was still December and there was a chill in the air when the wind gusted. Cody shivered slightly.
The yowl of a jaguar filled the mountains, echoing from canyon to canyon. Eyewitnesses would later claim, even though they had no way of knowing, that the giant cat was standing in the entrance to The Lost Mine with The Iron Door. The jaguar roared again, a deep throaty moan which seemed to echo from deep within the earth. The kind of spooky howl which makes one shiver involuntarily.
Then a cold wind gusted, and Cody began shivering violently. Cody put the top half of the Santa Claus suit back on, went inside and stood beside the roaring fireplace, standing next to the scantily clad elves. Even standing next to the fireplace, Cody could not stop shivering. Soon, the shivering turned into sneezing and the sneezing led to a fever. Cody spent the next few weeks in bed, his condition worsening steadily until late one midnight, William F. Cody, the original Buffalo Bill, died in his sleep.
Those people who had been there, had heard that spectral jaguar howl, whispered that the last jaguar in Arizona placed a curse which killed the last real Santa Claus in Arizona.
*****
In 1996, Warner Glenn was on horseback, holding his rifle, following his dogs, who ran ahead, baying and barking. The dogs became excited, running faster, barking louder. Warner spurred his horse faster, galloping deeper into the canyon. The dogs rounded a granite wall and chaos erupted. They had treed something big. The dogs howled and barked, all of them, all at once — the ruckus was tremendous.
Warner Glenn was mountain lion hunting in the Peloncillo Mountains, in the corners where New Mexico, Arizona, and Mexico meet, when his dogs suddenly became more excited than he had ever seen them before. The whole pack went crazy all at once. They caught the scent of something unusual and took off like a pack of hellhounds, wailing like banshees. The dogs rounded the canyon corner, out of Warner’s sight, and went berserk. Warner’s horse took the turn wide and moved deeper into the canyon. Warner was expecting to see the biggest mountain lion he had ever seen.
Instead he saw a jaguar. His dogs had treed a jaguar.
The dogs barked and circled the tree, snarling as they moved. It was a great big beautiful cat, the feline king of the jungle in the Americas. The jaguar roared, a beast like scream these mountains had not heard in a hundred years. The dogs whimpered, backing away from the tree.
Warner Glenn reached into his saddle holster, fumbled about, and removed his…
Video camera.
Warner aimed and shot, capturing footage of the magnificent animal. The dogs resumed barking. The jaguar in the tree, snarled before erupting into another ear shattering yowl.
Warner put down his video camera and called off his dogs before the jaguar could leap from the tree and kill any of the dogs he loved so well. He holstered his rifle and went home.
Warner Glenn had proof that jaguars had returned to the United States. Jaguars had come back not because of any government actions or environmental protests but because this was their home and they have always been here. They returned on their own.
Warner Glenn’s video provided indisputable proof that jaguars had returned to the United States and there was debate about whether they should be placed on the Endangered Species List. Warner Glenn will tell you that the jaguar he saw in that tree certainly did not look very endangered, but since that first encounter, Mr. Glenn had dedicated his life to protecting the giant beasts. The heart of the legal dilemma could be summarized thusly, does man really have an obligation to protect one of the few beasts on the planet which actively hunts mankind? Personally, I believe it is a good idea because I think humans might show a little more respect for the earth if they remembered how to be afraid of the forest again.
The ghost of the jaguar killed at Campo Bonito and whose pelt was given to William F. Cody has been avenged. Now that jaguars have returned to the United States, I am hoping that this is the year the curse will be lifted. Perhaps this will be finally be the year that a Santa Claus worthy of the ghost of Buffalo Bill will reappear. Perhaps this will be the year that an authentic Santa Claus will come back to Arizona.
