I had forgotten to bring my canteen. We descended a ladder
of shaly cliff, the steps of which broke under our feet. The slope
below us was easy, and soon we stood on a level with the lion. The
cedar was small, and afforded no good place for him. Evidently he
jumped from the slope to the tree, and had hung where he first
alighted.
"Where's Sounder? Look for him. I hear him below. This lion won't stay
treed long."
I, too, heard Sounder. The cedar tree obstructed my view, and I moved
aside. A hundred feet farther down the hound bayed under a tall pinon.
High in the branches I saw a great mass of yellow, and at first glance
thought Sounder had treed old Sultan. How I yelled! Then a second
glance showed two lions close together.
"Two more! two more! look! look!" I yelled to Jones.
"Hi! Hi! Hi!" he joined his robust yell to mine, and for a moment we
made the canyon bellow. When we stopped for breath the echoes bayed at
us from the opposite walls.
"Waa-hoo!" Emett's signal, faint, far away, soaring but unmistakable,
floated down to us. Across the jutting capes separating the mouths of
these canyons, high above them on the rim wall of the opposite side of
the Bay, stood a giant white horse silhouetted against the white
sky. They made a brave picture, one most welcome to us. We yelled in
chorus: "Three lions treed! Three lions treed! come down--hurry!"
A crash of rolling stones made us wheel.
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