We all sought the shelter of the
tents, and sleep again claimed us.
I awoke about five o'clock. The sun was low, making crimson paths in
the white aisles of the forest. A cold wind promised a frosty morning.
"To-morrow will be the day for lions," exclaimed Jones.
While we hugged the fire, Navvy brought up the horses and gave them
their oats. The hounds sought their shelter and the lions lay hidden
in their beds of pine. The round red sun dropped out of sight beyond
the trees, a pink glow suffused all the ridges; blue shadows gathered
in the hollow, shaded purple and stole upward. A brief twilight
succeeded to a dark, coldly starlit night.
Once again, when I had crawled into the warm hole of my sleeping bag,
was I hailed from the other tent.
Emett called me twice, and as I answered, I heard Jones remonstrating
in a low voice.
"Shore, Jones has got 'em!" yelled Jim. "He can't keep it a secret no
longer."
"Hey, Jones," I cried, "do you remember laughing at me?"
"No, I don't," growled Jones.
"Listen to this: Haw-haw! haw! haw! ho-ho! ho-ho! bueno! bueno!" and I
wound up with a string of "hi! hi! hi! hi! hi!"
The hounds rose up in a body and began to yelp.
"Lie down, pups," I called to them. "Nothing doing for you. It's only
Jones has got 'em."
XII
When we trooped out of the pines next morning, the sun, rising
gloriously bright, had already taken off the keen edge of the frosty
air, presaging a warm day.
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