These predators are on the offensive. Here is your defense strategy.

An Ugly Stik may not be a lion tamer's first choice for a whip, but that's exactly what Skip Goerner was using one for when his call for help brought fishing partner Butch Montagnino to his side.

"He was just whaling at the cat with the spinning rod," Montagnino recalls. The two men had been fishing the inlet stream to Lower Quartz Lake in Glacier National Park when a mountain lion charged up a brushy path at Goerner. Sheltering behind a deadfall, Goerner swatted at the attacking cat and managed to keep it at bay until, at Montagnino's approach, it backed off. Crouching down a few yards away, it screamed at the men for several minutes, then melted away into the brush.

Had the cat been defending cubs? A kill? Or had it simply been intent on adding human flesh to its menu? No one knows for certain. But what cannot be ignored is that a seemingly unprovoked attack by a healthy mountain lion upon a human being -- once considered an anomaly -- is no longer such a rare occurrence. About 15 people have been killed by lions since 1900, but of the hundreds of verified attacks, what's alarming is that three-quarters of them have come in the past 25 years. Today, about 14 people are attacked each year in Western states; in Montana alone, between 20 and 40 people report aggressive encounters with lions annually.

Man or Mouse?
Hunters often are the intended victims. Keith Aune, who is compiling a statistical report on lion-human confrontations for Montana Fish, Wildlife and Parks, says that about five hunters each year report close encounters where they were stalked or growled at in the field. But because many hunters, myself included, have experienced aggressive encounters that were never formally registered, the true figure is probably much higher.

Aune himself was persistently threatened by a lion as he hunted deer in Montana's Bob Marshall Wilderness. He fired into the ground near the cat several times, but although it jumped at the shots, it continued to follow him, creeping closer and closer. Aune thought he would have to kill the lion, which followed for half a mile or more, but it finally lost interest. A hunter near Alder, Montana, was not so lucky; he was pounced upon when his back was turned and mauled before he was able to drive the lion away.

Why has an animal historically characterized by its secretive nature -- the "shadow cat" of Indian folklore -- suddenly become so emboldened? Aune and other biologists suspect a combination of factors, including more people using backcountry areas, the proliferation of cabins and vacation homes in lion country, booming populations of prey animals, and not incidentally, more of the big cats themselves.

Lions that are most likely to confront humans closely mirror the age, sex, and often the size of their intended victims: young, usually male, and small in stature. After being kicked out by their mothers at the age of 1, subadult males are forced to find a home range of their own. Established toms defend the best ranges, so the young males are forced into marginal habitats, often near the fringes of civilization, where their natural fear of humans gradually gives way to curiosity and aggression. Hunters who venture deep into lion country are more likely to be confronted by young females, which outnumber males and set up home ranges adjacent to their mothers'.

What can you do to avoid a confrontation? Travel in groups, keep smaller hikers between adults (a 10-year-old boy was killed when he forged ahead of his parents along a trail in Rocky Mountain National Park), and avoid brushy areas in early morning or late evening. Bicycling and running can also trigger a predatory response. Two recent victims, a California woman and a Colorado teenager, were killed by lions that stalked them during runs.

Hunters regularly break rules of safe travel, but unlike hikers, we are armed. And although confrontations between lions and humans are becoming more numerous, the odds of being physically attacked when our backs are turned remain exceedingly small. To put things in perspective, mountain lion biologist James Jonkel says he doesn't worry about lions while hunting. "In fact, I hunt harder [in places where I see lion sign] and keep my eyes peeled, because if a lion's around, I know I'm in good game country."

Fishermen and hikers should consider packing pepper spray, which in a few cases has driven away threatening lions. But because its effectiveness in an attack remains unknown, it's good practice to carry something else that can be used as a weapon, like a walking staff. Or, better yet, an Ugly Stik.

 Is Hunting the Answer?
Some sportsmen have blamed Proposition 117, which banned mountain lion hunting in California in 1990, for the dramatic increase in encounters there during the past decade. But over the same time span, mountain lion encounters have risen in other Western states where hunting is permitted. Also, half of all lion attacks occur in British Columbia, primarily on Vancouver Island, where lions are aggressively pursued.

In an effort to control the lion population and reduce their confrontations with people, Montana increased the number of lion permits during the mid-1990s. But Aune questions the effectiveness of aggressive hunting practices, which target older animals whose ranges are then taken over by subadults -- the very cats that are most likely to confront and attack humans.

Perhaps it's just time to admit that by choosing to venture into the stronghold of a predator higher up the food chain than ourselves, we assume the risk that the predator will occasionally prove the point. And yet, the trade-off of being able to visit country that remains truly wild is worth it.