STAR-TELEGRAM/JILL JOHNSON Red wound marks dot Chris Kerzman's right leg.

FORT WORTH - For 20 minutes -- 20 excruciatingly long and unnerving minutes -- Chris Kerzman knew what it was like to be prey.

He had seen the looks in animals' eyes when they're pulled to the ground by a big cat on TV nature programs, and he knew that this encounter with a mountain lion would probably end badly.

But in this story, the hunter ended up dead and the hunted drove back to Fort Worth.

It is an indication of how bizarre Kerzman's experience was on Tuesday, a gorgeous morning on one of Big Bend National Park's busiest hiking trails, just a mile from the main ranger station and the comforts of the Chisos Basin Lodge.

A female mountain lion, apparently driven to desperate measures for a meal, attacked Kerzman, leaving him with a wound shaped like a mountain lion's large paw.

"I thought to myself, 'Did that just happen to me?' " Kerzman said.

He asked a good question, because mountain lions rarely attack humans.

Although attacks are more common in California and Colorado, where cities are spreading into the mountains, the last time a lion attacked someone in Texas was 1998. It, too, was at Big Bend, but park officials point out that was 1.5 million visitors ago.

"In Texas, your chances are greater, much greater, of getting hit by lightning," said Bob Wiese, director of animal collections for the Fort Worth Zoo.

Kerzman, 30, an information analyst for the city of Fort Worth, struck out on the Laguna Meadows trail about 8:30 a.m., maintaining a brisk pace. It was he and his wife Caroline's third day at Big Bend, but their first trip there since moving to Texas.

"I saw the back end of a mountain lion go across the path," he said. "I was really excited because most people never see one. But I stopped and waited a few minutes to let it move on."

Cautiously, Kerzman started walking again, much more slowly, much more attuned to sounds. After walking a short distance, there she was, crouched in some bushes, watching him.

"She didn't make any aggressive moves, so I figured if I didn't move too fast, I'd be OK," he said. "After I got out of its sight, I started to feel a little more comfortable."

Just as his comfort level rose, however, his pulse did, too, for the mountain lion was charging at him.

"I yelled and raised my arms to make myself look bigger, and she stopped dead in her tracks" about 25 feet from him, he said. "She looked at me kind of curiously and then she retreated up the hill."

Kerzman -- clearly scared by now -- picked up a rock, weighing maybe 3 or 4 pounds, and a good-size stick and decided to back-track to report the incident to the park rangers.

He could see her, lying under a mesquite tree, but she didn't look interested anymore.

But she clearly was, for she charged again. And again. And again. Each time, the lion came closer to Kerzman, close enough for him to see her drawing up her lips, close enough for him to smell her.

It was turning out to be a much longer hike back to the lodge than the one he started on.

"She was stalking me," he said. "She kept trying to get above me. It moved real slow when I was making eye contact. Then when I would go around a switchback and couldn't see her, she would move a lot farther trying to get position on me."

Finally, the lion struck, swiping at Kerzman's right calf, taking him down. She moved in with her head, and Kerzman pounded her in the head with the rock. Three times, he hit her.

Then she took off, stopping a short distance away, licking her lips.

"I thought, 'Oh, my God, she's licking my blood,' " he said. "She followed me about 50 yards and then she disappeared."

With blood pooling in his sneaker, Kerzman walked back to the lodge. He knocked on his lodge door, and his wife answered.

"I said, 'Meet me at the ranger station. I just got attacked by a mountain lion,' " he said. "She said, 'You're kidding right?' And then she saw my leg and started getting pretty emotional."

He told the rangers and a park biologist what happened, then drove about 100 miles to the hospital in Alpine to get his wounds treated and get a tetanus shot.

Rangers closed the hiking trails and campsites and used dogs to find the mountain lion. That night, Kerzman heard a gunshot. The rangers came and got him to see if he could identify the animal.

She was old and emaciated, missing two canine teeth, clearly unable lately to kill anymore. Kerzman felt bad as he looked at her that night. She was a beautiful animal, he thought.

"Research has shown two times a mountain lion might do this -- juveniles that are just learning or the very old who are really struggling," said David Elkowitz, spokesman for the national park.

Her age and condition might have prompted the attack on Kerzman, but it also allowed Kerzman to walk away with minor injuries.

He wonders if anyone will believe his story after the wounds heal. But then, he's hoping that one picture turns out, the one he snapped during one of her charges.

"It wasn't very smart, but I figured I would never get that close to one again," he said.

Trail reopens

The Chisos Basin trails opened to visitors Thursday afternoon with two restrictions: no children under the age of 12 allowed and no hiking alone.

Staff Writer Bill Hanna Contributed to This Report.