to me, I
heard the cracking of branches and saw the lion biting hard at the
noose which circled his neck.

Here I swung down, branch to branch, and dropped to the ground, for
I wanted to see what went on below. Above the howls and yelps, I
distinguished Jones' yell. Emett ran directly under the lion with a
spread noose in his hands. Jones pulled and pulled, but the lion held
on firmly. Throwing the end of the lasso down to Jim, Jones yelled
again, and then they both pulled. The lion was too strong. Suddenly,
however, the branch broke, letting the lion fall, kicking frantically
with all four paws. Emett grasped one of the four whipping paws, and
even as the powerful animal sent him staggering he dexterously left
the noose fast on the paw. Jim and Jones in unison let go of their
lasso, which streaked up through the branches as the lion fell, and
then it dropped to the ground, where Jim made a flying grab for it.
Jones plunging out of the tree fell upon the rope at the same instant.

If the action up to then had been fast, it was slow to what followed.
It seemed impossible for two strong men with one lasso, and a giant
with another, to straighten out that lion. He was all over the little
space under the trees at once. The dust flew, the sticks snapped,
the gravel pattered like shot against the cedars. Jones ploughed the
ground flat on his stomach, holding on with one hand, with the other
trying to fasten the rope to something; Jim went to his knees; and on
the other side of the lion, Emett's huge bulk tipped a sharp angle,
and then fell.

I shouted and ran forward, having no idea what to do, but Emett rolled
backward, at the same instant the other men got a strong haul on
the lion. Short as that moment was in which the lasso slackened, it
sufficed for Jones to make the rope fast to a tree. Whereupon with the
three men pulling on the other side of the leaping lion, somehow I had
flashed into my mind the game that children play, called skipping the
rope, for the lion and lasso shot up and down.

This lasted for only a few seconds. They stretched the beast from tree
to tree, and Jones running with the third lasso, made fast the front
paws.

"It's a female," said Jones, as the lion lay helpless, her sides
swelling; "a good-sized female. She's nearly eight feet from tip to
tip, but not very heavy. Hand me another rope."

When all four lassos had been stretched, the lioness could not move.
Jones strapped a collar around