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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"Tales of lonely trails"

I'm all in. My heart
won't stand any more climb."
"You go to camp for the pack horses," I said briefly. "Bring them all,
and all the packs, and Navvy, too. I'll help Emett tie up the second
lion, and then we'll pack them both up here to this one. You take the
hounds with you."
"Can you tie up that lion?" asked Jones. "Mind you, he's loose except
for a collar and chain. His claws haven't been clipped. Besides, it'll
be an awful job to pack those two lions up here."
"We can try," I said. "You hustle to camp. Your horse is right up back
of here, across the point, if I don't mistake my bearings."
Jones, admonishing me again, called the hounds and wearily climbed the
slope. I waited until he was out of hearing; then began to retrace my
trail down into the canyon. I made the descent in quick time, to find
Emett standing guard over the lion. The beast had been tied to an
overhanging branch that swung violently with every move he made.
"When I got here," said Emett, "he was hanging over the side of that
rock, almost choked to death. I drove him into this corner between the
rocks and the tree, where he has been comparatively quiet. Now, what's
up? Where is Jones? Did you get the third lion?"
I related what had occurred, and then said we were to tie this lion
and pack him with the other one up the canyon, to meet Jones and the
horses.


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