erchief and
squeezed the water into his mouth. He wheezed, coughed, choked, but to
our joy he swallowed. He had to swallow. One after the other we served
them so, seeing with unmistakable relief the sure signs of recovery.
Their eyes cleared and brightened; the dry coughing that distressed us
so ceased; the froth came no more. The savage fellow that had fought
us to a standstill, and for which we had named him Spitfire, raised
his head, the gold in his beautiful eyes darkened to fire and he
growled his return to life and defiance.

Emett and I sank back in unutterable relief.

"Waa-hoo!" Jones' yell came, breaking the warm quiet of the slope.
Our comrade appeared riding down. The voice of the Indian, calling to
Marc, mingled with the ringing of iron-shod hoofs on the stones.

Jones surveyed the small level spot in the shade of the cedars. He
gazed from the lions to us, his stern face relaxed, and his dry laugh
cracked.

"Doggone me, if you didn't do it!"

XIII

A strange procession soon emerged from Left Canyon and stranger to us
than the lion heads bobbing out of the alfagoes was the sight of Navvy
riding in front of the lions. I kept well in the rear, for if anything
happened, which I calculated was more than likely, I wanted to see
it. Before we had reached the outskirts of pines, I observed that the
piece of lasso around Spitfire's nose had worked loose.

Just as I was about to make this known to Jones, the lion opened a
corner of his mouth and fastened his teeth in the Navajo's overalls.
He did not catch the flesh, for when Navvy turned around he wore only
an expression of curiosity. But when he saw Spitfire chewing him he
uttered a shrill scream and fell sidewise off his horse.

Then two difficulties presented themselves to us, to catch the
frightened horse and persuade the Indian he had not been bitten. We
failed in the latter. Navvy gave us and the lions a wide berth, and
walked to camp.

Jim was waiting for us, and said he had chased a lion south along the
rim till the hounds got away from him.

Spitfire, having already been chained, was the first lion we
endeavored to introduce to our family of captives. He raised such a
fearful row that we had to remove him some distance from the others.

"We have two dog chains," said Jones, "but not a collar or a swivel
in camp. We can't chain the lions without swivels. They'd choke
themselves in two minutes."

Once more, for the hundredth time, Emett came