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Updated: June 25, 2025
She nearly jerked the rope out of our hands, but we lowered her to Emett, who noosed her hind paws in a flash. "Make fast your rope," shouted Jones. "There, that's good! Now let her down easy." As soon as the lioness touched ground we let go the lasso, which whipped up and over the branch. She became a round, yellow, rapidly moving ball.
Then, knowing that old Sultan would hang himself in a few moments, we attempted to lift him. Jones pulled till his back cracked; I pulled till I saw red before my eyes. Again and again we tried. We could lift him only a few feet. Soon exhausted, we had to desist altogether. How Emett roared and raged from his vantage-point above! He could see the lion in death throes.
Emett was the first to catch the loose lasso, and he checked the rolling cougar. Jones leaped to assist him and the two of them straightened out the struggling animal, while Jim swung another noose at her. On the second throw he caught a front paw. "Pull hard! Stretch her out!" yelled Jones. He grasped a stout piece of wood and pushed it at the lioness.
I never saw an Indian or anybody else run so fleetly. Yell after yell pealed back to us. Absolutely dumfounded we all gazed at each other. "That's your dead Indian!" ejaculated Jim. "What the hell!" exclaimed Emett, who seldom used such language. "Look here!" cried Jones, grabbing the bottle. "See! Don't you see it?" Jim fell face downward and began to shake. "What?" shouted Emett and I together.
How I hated the sliding stones! "Wait," panted Emett once. "You're younger than me wait!" For that Mormon giant used all his days to strenuous toil, peril and privation to ask me to wait for him, was a compliment which I valued more than any I had ever received. At last we dropped our burden in the shade of a cedar where the other lions lay, and we stretched ourselves.
It ain't been long since he was in that cedar there. When he jumped the yellow pup was in the way an' got killed. My horse just managed to jump clear of the big lion, an' as it was, nearly broke his leg." Emett examined the leg and pronounced it badly strained, and advised Jim to lead the horse back to camp.
Don slid to the edge of a slope, trotted to the right and left of crags, threaded the narrow places, and turned in the direction of the baying hounds. He passed on the verge of precipices that made me tremble for him; but sure-footed as a goat, he went on safely down, to disappear far to my right. Then I saw Emett sliding, leg wrapped around his lasso, down the first step of the rim.
If we needed an incentive, the danger threatening the hounds furnished one; but I calculated the death of the pup was enough. Emett had a flare in his eye, Jones looked darker and more grim than ever, and I had sensations that boded ill to old Sultan. "Fellows," I said, "I've been down this place, and I know where the old brute has gone; so come on."
Jones and I stood a moment over the remains of the yellow pup, and presently Emett joined us. "He was the most playful one of the pack," said Emett, and then he placed the limp, bloody body in a crack, and laid several slabs of stone over it. "Hurry after the other hounds," said Jim. "That lion will kill them one by one. An' look out for him!"
I zigzagged the slopes; slipped over stones; leaped fissures and traversed yellow slides. I safely descended places that in an ordinary moment would have presented insurmountable obstacles, and burst down upon Emett with an Indian yell of triumph. "Good!" ejaculated he. If I had not known it already, the way his face changed would have told me of his love for animals.
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