. We treed him twice and I yelled
for you fellows till my voice was gone."

"Well," said Emett, "I fell in with Sounder and Jude. They were hot on
a trail which in a mile or two turned up this way. I came on them just
at the edge of the pines where they had treed their game. I sat under
that pine tree for five hours, fired all my shots to make you fellows
come, yelled myself hoarse and then tried to tie up the lion alone. He
jumped out and ran over the rim, where neither I nor the dogs could
follow."

"Shore, I win, three of a kind," drawled Jim, as he got his pipe and
carefully dusted the bowl. "When the stampede came, I got my hands on
Moze and held him. I held Moze because just as the other hounds broke
loose over to my right, I saw down into a little pocket where a
fresh-killed deer lay half eaten. So I went down. I found two other
carcasses layin' there, fresh killed last night, flesh all gone, hide
gone, bones crushed, skull split open. An' damn me fellows, if that
little pocket wasn't all torn to pieces. The sage was crushed flat.
The ground dug up, dead snags broken, and blood and hair everywhere.
Lion tracks like leaves, and old Sultan's was there. I let Moze loose
and he humped the trail of several lions south over the rim. Major got
down first an' came back with his tail between his legs. Moze went
down and I kept close to him. It wasn't far down, but steep and rocky,
full of holes. Moze took the trail to a dark cave. I saw the tracks of
three lions goin' in. Then I collared Moze an' waited for you fellows.
I waited there all day, an' nobody came to my call. Then I made for
camp."

"How do you account for the torn-up appearance of the place where you
found the carcasses?" I asked.

"Lion fight sure," replied Jones. "Maybe old Sultan ran across the
three lions feeding, and pitched into them. Such fights were common
among the lions in Yellowstone Park when I was there."

"What chance have we to find those three lions in a cave where Jim
chased them?"

"We stand a good chance," said Jones. "Especially if it storms
to-night."

"Shore the snow storm is comin'," returned Jim.

Darkness clapped down on us suddenly, and the wind roared in the pines
like a mighty river tearing its way down a rocky pass. As we could not
control the camp-fire, sparks of which blew fiercely, we extinguished
it and went to bed. I had just settled myself comfortably to be sung
to sleep by the concert in the pines, when Jones hai