"Lion tied--all fast," replied the panting Jones. "Left Emett--to
guard--him."
"What are we to do now?"
"Wait--till I get my breath. Think out--a plan. We can't get both
lions--out of one tree."
"All right," I replied, after a moment's thought. "I'll tie Sounder
and Moze. You go up the tree. That first lion will jump, sure; he's
almost ready now. Don and the other hounds will tree him again pretty
soon. If he runs up the canyon, well and good. Then, if you can get
the lasso on the other, I'll yell for Emett to come up to help you,
and I'll follow Don."
Jones began the ascent of the pinon. The branches were not too close,
affording him easy climbing. Before we looked for even a move on the
part of the lions, the lower one began stepping down. I yelled a
warning, but Jones did not have time to take advantage of it. He had
half turned, meaning to swing out and drop, when the lion planted both
forepaws upon his back. Jones went sprawling down with the lion almost
on him.
Don had his teeth in the lion before he touched the ground, and when
he did strike the rest of the hounds were on him. A cloud of dust
rolled down the slope. The lion broke loose and with great, springy
bounds ran up the canyon, Don and his followers hot-footing it after
him.
Moze and Sounder broke the dead sapling to which I had tied them, and
dragging it behind them, endeavored in frenzied action to join the
chase.
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