She nearly jerked the rope out of
our hands, but we lowered her to Emett, who noosed her hind paws in a
flash.
"Make fast your rope," shouted Jones. "There, that's good! Now let her
down--easy."
As soon as the lioness touched ground we let go the lasso, which
whipped up and over the branch. She became a round, yellow, rapidly
moving ball. Emett was the first to catch the loose lasso, and he
checked the rolling cougar. Jones leaped to assist him and the two of
them straightened out the struggling animal, while Jim swung another
noose at her. On the second throw he caught a front paw.
"Pull hard! Stretch her out!" yelled Jones. He grasped a stout piece
of wood and pushed it at the lioness. She caught it in her mouth,
making the splinters fly. Jones shoved her head back on the ground and
pressed his brawny knee on the bar of wood.
"The collar! The collar! Quick!" he called.
I threw chain and collar to him, which in a moment he had buckled
round her neck.
"There, we've got her!" he said. "It's only a short way over to camp,
so we'll drag her without muzzling."
As he rose the lioness lurched, and reaching him, fastened her
fangs in his leg. Jones roared. Emett and Jim yelled. And I, though
frightened, was so obsessed with the idea of getting a picture that I
began to fumble with the shutter of my camera.
"Grab the chain! Pull her off!" bawled Jones.
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