growl. Looking up I saw a big lion, bigger'n any we chased except
Sultan, an' he was pokin' his head out of a hole, an' shore telling
me to come no further. I couldn't let go with either hand to reach my
gun, because I'd have fallen, so I yelled at him with all my might. He
spit at me an' then walked out of the hole over the bench as proud as
a lord an' jumped down where I couldn't see him any more. I climbed
out all right but he'd gone. An' I'll tell you for a minute, he shore
made me sweat."

"By George!" I yelled, greatly excited. "I heard that lion breathing.
Don chased him up there. I heard hard, wheezing breaths somewhere
behind me, but in the excitement I didn't pay any attention to them. I
thought it was Jones panting, but now I know what it meant."

"Shore. He was there all the time, lookin' at you an' maybe he could
have reached you."

We were all too exhausted for more discussion and putting that off
until the next day we sought our beds. It was hardly any wonder that I
felt myself jumping even in my sleep, and started up wildly more than
once in the dead of night.

[Illustration: WILD HORSES DRINKING ON A PROMONTORY IN THE GRAND
CANYON]

Morning found us all rather subdued, yet more inclined to a
philosophical resignation as regarded the difficulties of our special
kind of hunting. Capturing the lions on the level of the plateau was
easy compared to following them down into canyons and bringing them up
alone. We all agreed that that was next to impossible. Another feature,
which before we had not considered, added to our perplexity and it was a
dawning consciousness that we would be perhaps less cruel if we killed
the lions outright. Jones and Emett arrayed themselves on the side that
life even in captivity was preferable; while Jim and I, no doubt still
under the poignant influence of the last lion's heroic race and end,
inclined to freedom or death. We compromised on the reasonable fact that
as yet we had shown only a jackass kind of intelligence.

[Illustration: JONES AND EMETT PACKING LION ON HORSE]

[Illustration: JONES CLIMBING UP TO LASSO LION]

About eleven o'clock while the others had deserted camp temporarily
for some reason or other, I was lounging upon an odorous bed of pine
needles. The sun shone warmly, the sky gleamed bright azure through
the openings of the great trees, a dry west breeze murmured through
the forest. I was lying on my bed musing idly and watching a yellow
woodpecke