rooding menacing murmur, that was not a snarl nor a growl, came from
her. She watched the dogs with bright, steady eyes, and never so much
as looked at us.

The dogs were worth attention, even from us, who certainly did not need
to regard them from her personally hostile point of view. Don stood
straight up, with his forepaws beating the air; he walked on his hind
legs like the trained dog in the circus; he yelped continuously, as if
it agonized him to see the lion safe out of his reach. Sounder had lost
his identity. Joy had unhinged his mind and had made him a dog of
double personality. He had always been unsocial with me, never
responding to my attempts to caress him, but now he leaped into my arms
and licked my face. He had always hated Jones till that moment, when he
raised his paws to his master's breast. And perhaps more remarkable,
time and time again he sprang up at Satan's nose, whether to bite him
or kiss him, I could not tell. Then old Moze, he of Grand Canyon fame,
made the delirious antics of his canine fellows look cheap. There was a
small, dead pine that had fallen against a drooping branch of the tree
Kitty had taken refuge in, and up this narrow ladder Moze began to
climb. He was fifteen feet up, and Kitty had begun to shift uneasily,
when Jones saw him.

"Hyar! you wild coon hyar! Git out of that! Come down! Come down!"

But Jones might have been in the bottom of the canyon for all Moze
heard or cared. Jones removed his coat, carefully coiled his lasso, and
began to go hand and knee up the leaning pine.

"Hyar! dad-blast you, git down!" yelled Jones, and he kicked Moze off.
The persistent hound returned, and followed Jones to a height of twenty
feet, where again he was thrust off.

"Hold him, one of you!" called Jones.

"Not me," said Frank, "I'm lookin' out for myself."

"Same here," I cried, with a camera in one hand and a rifle in
the other. "Let Moze climb if he likes."

Climb he did, to be kicked off again. But he went back. It was a way he
had. Jones at last recognized either his own waste of time or Moze's
greatness, for he desisted, allowing the hound to keep close after him.

The cougar, becoming uneasy, stood up, reached for another limb,
climbed out upon it, and peering down, spat hissingly at Jones. But he
kept steadily on with Moze close on his heels. I snapped my camera on
them when Kitty was not more than fifteen feet above them. As Jones
reached the snag which upheld the lea