y
tribute to the lion's unquenchable spirit and to the freedom he had
earned to the last.

VIII

How long Jim and I sat there we never knew. The second tragedy, not so
pitiful but as heart sickening as the first, crushed our spirits.

"Shore he was a game lion," said Jim. "An' I'll have to get his skin."

"I'm all in, Jim. I couldn't climb out of that hole." I said.

"You needn't. Rest a little, take a good drink an' leave your canteen
here for me; then get your things back there on the trail an' climb
out. We're not far from West Point. I'll go back after the first
lion's skin an' then climb straight up. You lead my horse to the point
where you came off the rim."

He clattered along the gorge knocking the stones and started down. I
watched him letting himself over the end of the huge slabs until he
passed out of my sight. A good, long drink revived me and I began the
ascent.

From that moment on time did not matter to me. I forgot all about it.
I felt only my leaden feet and my laboring chest and dripping skin.
I did not even notice the additional weight of my rifle and camera
though they must have overburdened me. I kept my eyes on the lion
runway and plunged away with short steps. To look at these towering
walls would have been to surrender.

At last, stumbling, bursting, sick, I gained the rim and had to rest
before I could mount. When I did get into the saddle I almost fell
from it.

Jones and Emett were waiting for me at the promontory where I had
tied my horse, and were soon acquainted with the particulars of my
adventure, and that Jim would probably not get out for hours. We made
tracks for camp, and never did a place rouse in me such a sense of
gratefulness. Emett got dinner and left on the fire a kettle of potato
stew for Jim. It was almost dark when that worthy came riding into
camp. We never said a word as he threw the two lion skins on the
ground.

"Fellows, you shore have missed the wind-up!" he exclaimed.

We all looked at him and he looked at us.

"Was there any more?" I asked weakly.

"Shore! An' it beats hell! When I got the skin of the lion the dogs
killed I started to work up to the place I knowed you'd leave my
horse. It's bad climbing where you came down. I got on the side of
that cliff an' saw where I could work out, if I could climb a smooth
place. So I tried. There was little cracks an' ridges for my feet and
hands. All to once, just above where I helped you down, I heard a