en I gathered myself together, instead of being grateful the
ledge had not been on the face of Point Sublime--from which I would
most assuredly have leaped--I was the angriest man ever let loose in
the Grand Canyon.

Of course the cougars were far on their way by that time, and were
telling neighbors about the brave hunter's leap for life; so I devoted
myself to further efforts to find an outlet. The niche I had jumped
into opened below, as did most of the breaks, and I worked out of it to
the base of the rim wall, and tramped a long, long mile before I
reached my own trail leading down. Resting every five steps, I climbed
and climbed. My rifle grew to weigh a ton; my feet were lead; the
camera strapped to my shoulder was the world. Soon climbing meant
trapeze work--long reach of arm, and pull of weight, high step of foot,
and spring of body. Where I had slid down with ease, I had to strain
and raise myself by sheer muscle. I wore my left glove to tatters and
threw it away to put the right one on my left hand. I thought many
times I could not make another move; I thought my lungs would burst,
but I kept on. When at last I surmounted the rim, I saw Jones, and
flopped down beside him, and lay panting, dripping, boiling, with
scorched feet, aching limbs and numb chest.

"I've been here two hours," he said, "and I knew things were happening
below; but to climb up that slide would kill me. I am not young any
more, and a steep climb like this takes a young heart. As it was I had
enough work. Look!" He called my attention to his trousers. They had
been cut to shreds, and the right trouser leg was missing from the knee
down. His shin was bloody. "Moze took a lion along the rim, and I went
after him with all my horse could do. I yelled for the boys, but they
didn't come. Right here it is easy to go down, but below, where Moze
started this lion, it was impossible to get over the rim. The lion lit
straight out of the pinyons. I lost ground because of the thick brush
and numerous trees. Then Moze doesn't bark often enough. He treed the
lion twice. I could tell by the way he opened up and bayed. The rascal
coon-dog climbed the trees and chased the lion out. That's what Moze
did! I got to an open space and saw him, and was coming up fine when he
went down over a hollow which ran into the canyon. My horse tripped and
fell, turning clear over with me before he threw me into the brush. I
tore my clothes, and got this bruise, but wasn't