Marc packed the lions to camp in short order, and, quoting Jones, “without turning a hair.”  We saw the Navajo’s head protruding from a tree.  Emett yelled for him, and Jones and Jim “hahaed” derisively; whereupon the black head vanished and did not reappear.  Then they unhooked one of the panniers and dumped out the lioness.  Jones fastened her chain to a small pine tree, and as she lay powerless he pulled out the stick back of her canines.  This allowed the wire muzzle to fall off.  She signalled this freedom with a roar that showed her health to be still unimpaired.  The last action in releasing her from her painful bonds Jones performed with sleight-of-hand dexterity.  He slipped the loop fastening one paw, which loosened the rope, and in a twinkling let her work all of her other paws free.  Up she sprang, ears flat, eyes ablaze, mouth wide, once more capable of defense, true to her instinct and her name.

Before the men lowered Tom from Marc’s back I stepped closer and put my face within six inches of the lion’s.  He promptly spat on me.  I had to steel my nerve to keep so close.  But I wanted to see a wild lion’s eyes at close range.  They were exquisitely beautiful, their physical properties as wonderful as their expression.  Great half globes of tawny amber, streaked with delicate wavy lines of black, surrounding pupils of intense purple fire.  Pictures shone and faded in the amber light—­the shaggy tipped plateau, the dark pines and smoky canyons, the great dotted downward slopes, the yellow cliffs and crags.  Deep in those live pupils, changing, quickening with a thousand vibrations, quivered the soul of this savage beast, the wildest of all wild Nature, unquenchable love of life and freedom, flame of defiance and hate.

Jones disposed of Tom in the same manner as he had the lioness, chaining him to an adjoining small pine, where he leaped and wrestled.

Presently I saw Emett coming through the woods leading and dragging the Indian.  I felt sorry for the Navvy, for I felt that his fear was not so much physical as spiritual.  And it seemed no wonder to me that the Navvy should hang back from this sacrilegious treatment of his god.  A natural wisdom, which I had in common with all human beings who consider self preservation the first law of life, deterred me from acquainting my august companions with my belief.  At least I did not want to break up the camp.

In the remorseless grasp of Emett, forced along, the Navajo dragged his feet and held his face sidewise, though his dark eyes gleamed at the lions.  Terror predominated among the expressions of his countenance.  Emett drew him within fifteen feet and held him there, and with voice, and gesticulating of his free hand, tried to show the poor fellow that the lions would not hurt him.

Navvy stared and muttered to himself.  Here Jim had some deviltry in mind, for he edged up closer; but what it was never transpired, for Emett suddenly pointed to the horses and said to the Indian: