a dozen calves by killin' that kitty-cat. Did you know it was a
lion when you shot?"

"Nope, or I'd 'a' sure beat the hosses down the grade. I jest cut
loose at them two green eyes a-burnin' in the brush and _whump_! down
comes Mr. Kitty-cat almost plumb atop me. Mebby I wasn't scared! I
was wonderin' why you set off in sech a hurry. You sure burned the
ground down the mountain."

"Just stayin' with my saddle," laughed Bailey. "Old Frisco here ain't
lost any lions recent."

"Will he pack?"

"I dunno. Wish it was daylight."

"Wish we had another rope," said Pete. "My rope is on my hoss and
yours is cinchin' the deer on him. And that there lion sure won't
lead. _He's_ dead."

"'Way high up in the Mokiones,'" chanted Bailey.

"'A-trippin' down the slope'!" laughed Pete. "And we ain't got no
rope. But say, Jim, can't we kind of hang him acrost your saddle and
steady him down to the flats?"

"I'll see what I can do with the tie-strings. I'll hold Frisco. You
go ahead and heave him up."

Pete approached the lion and tried to lift it, but it weaved and
slipped from his arms. "Limper 'n wet rawhide!" asserted Pete.

"Are you that scared? Shucks, now, I'd 'a' thought--"

"The doggone lion, I mean. Every time I heave at him he jest folds up
and lays ag'in' me like he was powerful glad to see me. You try him."

The horse snorted and shied as the foreman slung the huge carcass
across the saddle and tied the lion's fore feet and hind feet with the
saddle-strings. They made slow progress to the flats below, where they
had another lively session with Pete's horse, who had smelled the lion.
Finally with their game roped securely they set out on foot for the
ranch.

The hunting, and especially Pete's kill, had drawn them close together.
They laughed and talked, making light of high-heeled boots that pinched
and blistered as they plodded across the starlit mesa.

"Let's put one over on the boys!" suggested Pete. "We'll drift in
quiet, hang the buck in the slaughter-house, and then pack the
kitty-cat into the bunk-house and leave him layin' like he was asleep,
by Bill Haskins's bunk. Ole Bill allus gits his feet on the floor
afore he gits his eyes open. Mebby he won't step high and lively when
he sees what he's got his feet on!"

Bailey, plodding ahead and leading Frisco, chuckled. "I'll go you,
Pete, but I want you to promise me somethin'."

"Shoot!"

Bailey waited for Pete to come alongside.