If never before, Jones then showed his genius.  Don had hold of the lion’s flank, and Jones, grabbing the hound by the hind legs, threw him down the slope.  Don fell and rolled a hundred feet before he caught himself.  Then Jones threw old Moze rolling, and Ranger, and all except faithful Jude.  Before they could get back he roped the lion again and made fast to a tree.  Then he yelled for me to let go.  The lion fell.  Jones grabbed the lasso, at the same time calling for me to stop the hounds.  As they came bounding up the steep slope, I had to club the noble fellows into submission.

Before the lion recovered wholly from his severe choking, we had his paws bound fast.  Then he could only heave his tawny sides, glare and spit at us.

“Now what?” asked Jones.  “Emett is watching the second lion, which we fastened by chain and lasso to a swinging branch.  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.

“All right,” replied Emett, with a grim laugh.  “We’d better get at it.  Now I’m some worried about the lion we left below.  He ought to be brought up, but we both can’t go.  This lion here will kill himself.”

“What will the other one weigh?”

“All of one hundred and fifty pounds.”

“You can’t pack him alone.”

“I’ll try, and I reckon that’s the best plan.  Watch this fellow and keep him in the corner.”

Emett left me then, and I began a third long vigil beside a lion.  The rest was more than welcome.  An hour and a half passed before I heard the sliding of stones below, which told me that Emett was coming.  He appeared on the slope almost bent double, carrying the lion, head downward, before him.  He could climb only a few steps without lowering his burden and resting.