e lion? Where's Emett?" I asked in breathless
eagerness.

"Lion tied--all fast," replied the panting Jones. "Left Emett--to
guard--him."

"What are we to do now?"

"Wait--till I get my breath. Think out--a plan. We can't get both
lions--out of one tree."

"All right," I replied, after a moment's thought. "I'll tie Sounder
and Moze. You go up the tree. That first lion will jump, sure; he's
almost ready now. Don and the other hounds will tree him again pretty
soon. If he runs up the canyon, well and good. Then, if you can get
the lasso on the other, I'll yell for Emett to come up to help you,
and I'll follow Don."

Jones began the ascent of the pinon. The branches were not too close,
affording him easy climbing. Before we looked for even a move on the
part of the lions, the lower one began stepping down. I yelled a
warning, but Jones did not have time to take advantage of it. He had
half turned, meaning to swing out and drop, when the lion planted both
forepaws upon his back. Jones went sprawling down with the lion almost
on him.

Don had his teeth in the lion before he touched the ground, and when
he did strike the rest of the hounds were on him. A cloud of dust
rolled down the slope. The lion broke loose and with great, springy
bounds ran up the canyon, Don and his followers hot-footing it after
him.

Moze and Sounder broke the dead sapling to which I had tied them, and
dragging it behind them, endeavored in frenzied action to join the
chase. I drew them back, loosening the rope, so in case the other lion
jumped I could free them quickly.

Jones calmly gathered himself up, rearranged his lasso, took his long
stick, and proceeded to mount the pinon again. I waited till I saw him
slip the noose over the lion's head, then I ran down the slope to
yell for Emett. He answered at once. I told him to hurry to Jones'
assistance. With that I headed up the canyon.

I hung close to the broad trail left by the lion and his pursuers. I
passed perilously near the brink of precipices, but fear of them was
not in me that day. I passed out of the Bay into the mouth of Left
Canyon, and began to climb. The baying of the hounds directed me. In
the box of yellow walls the chorus seemed to come from a hundred dogs.

When I found them, close to a low cliff, baying the lion in a thick,
dark pinon, Ranger leaped into my arms and next Don stood up against
me with his paws on my shoulders. These were strange actions, and
though I ma