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Riding through this brush was the cruelest kind of work； but Satan kept on close to the sorrel。 The hollows began to get deeper； and the ridges between them narrower。 No longer could we keep a straight course。
On the crest of one of the ridges we found Jones awaiting us。 Jude； Tige and Don lay panting at his feet。 Plainly the Colonel appeared vexed。
〃Listen；〃 he said； when we reined in。
We complied； but did not hear a sound。
〃Frank's beyond there some place；〃 continued Jones； 〃but I can't see him； nor hear the hounds anymore。 Don and Tige split again on deer trails。 Old Jude hung on the lion track； but I stopped her here。 There's something I can't figure。 Moze held a beeline southwest； and he yelled seldom。 Sounder gradually stopped baying。 Maybe Frank can tell us something。〃
Jones's long drawn…out signal was answered from the direction he expected； and after a little time； Frank's white horse shone out of the gray…green of a ledge a mile away。
This drew my attention to our position。 We were on a high ridge out in the open； and I could see fifty miles of the shaggy slopes of Buckskin。 Southward the gray； ragged line seemed to stop suddenly； and beyond it purple haze hung over a void I knew to be the canyon。 And facing west； I came； at last； to understand perfectly the meaning of the breaks in the Siwash。 They were nothing more than ravines that headed up on the slopes and ran down； getting steeper and steeper； though scarcely wider； to break into the canyon。 Knife…crested ridges rolled westward； wave on wave； like the billows of a sea。 I appreciated that these breaks were； at their sources； little washes easy to jump across； and at their mouths a mile deep and impassable。 Huge pine trees shaded these gullies； to give way to the gray growth of stunted oak； which in turn merged into the dark green of pinyon。 A wonderful country for deer and lions； it seemed to me； but impassable； all but impossible for a hunter。
Frank soon appeared； brushing through the bending oaks； and Sounder trotted along behind him。
〃Where's Moze？〃 inquired Jones。
〃The last I heard of Moze he was out of the brush； goin' across the pinyon flat； right for the canyon。 He had a hot trail。〃
〃Well； we're certain of one thing； if it was a deer； he won't come back soon； and if it was a lion； he'll tree it； lose the scent； and come back。 We've got to show the hounds a lion in a tree。 They'd run a hot trail； bump into a tree； and then be at fault。 What was wrong with Sounder？〃
〃I don't know。 He came back to me。〃
〃We can't trust him； or any of them yet。 Still； maybe they're doing better than we know。〃
The outcome of the chase； so favorably started was a disappointment； which we all felt keenly。 After some discussion； we turned south； intending to ride down to the rim wall and follow it back to camp。 I happened to turn once； perhaps to look again at the far…distant pink cliffs of Utah； or the wave…like dome of Trumbull Mountain； when I saw Moze trailing close behind me。 My yell halted the Colonel。
〃Well； I'll be darned！〃 ejaculated he； as Moze hove in sight。 〃Come hyar； you rascal！〃
He was a tired dog； but had no sheepish air about him； such as he had worn when lagging in from deer chases。 He wagged his tail； and flopped down to pant and pant； as if to say： 〃What's wrong with you guys？〃
〃Boys； for two cents I'd go back and put Jude on that trail。 It's just possible that Moze treed a lion。 Butwell； I expect there's more likelihood of his chasing the lion over the rim； so we may as well keep on。 The strange thing is that Sounder wasn't with Moze。 There may have been two lions。 You see we are up a tree ourselves。 I have known lions to run in pairs； and also a mother keep four two…year…olds with her。 But such cases are rare。 Here； in this country； though； maybe they run round and have parties。〃
As we left the breaks behind we got out upon a level pinyon flat。 A few cedars grew with the pinyons。 Deer runways and trails were thick。
〃Boys； look at that；〃 said Jones。 〃This is great lion country； the best I ever saw。〃
He pointed to the sunken； red； shapeless remain of two horses； and near them a ghastly scattering of bleached bones。 〃A lion…lair right here on the flat。 Those two horses were killed early this spring； and I see no signs of their carcasses having been covered with brush and dirt。 I've got to learn lion lore over again； that's certain。〃
As we paused at the head of a depression； which appeared to be a gap in the rim wall； filled with massed pinyons and splintered piles of yellow stone； caught Sounder going through some interesting moves。 He stopped to smell a bush。 Then he lifted his head； and electrified me with a great； deep sounding bay。
〃Hi！ there； listen to that！〃 yelled Jones 〃What's Sounder got？ Give him roomdon't run him down。 Easy now； old dog； easy； easy！〃
Sounder suddenly broke down a trail。 Moze howled； Don barked； and Tige let out his staccato yelp。 They ran through the brush here； there； every where。 Then all at once old Jude chimed in with her mellow voice； and Jones tumbled off his horse。
〃By the Lord Harry！ There's something here。〃
〃Here； Colonel； here's the bush Sounder smelt and there's a sandy trail under it；〃 I called。
〃There go Don an' Tige down into the break' cried Frank。 〃They've got a hot scent！〃
Jones stooped over the place I designated； to jerk up with reddening face； and as he flung himself into the saddle roared out： 〃After Sounder！ Old Tom！ Old Tom！ Old Tom！〃
We all heard Sounder； and at the moment of Jones's discovery； Moze got the scent and plunged ahead of us。
〃Hi！ Hi！ Hi！ Hi！〃 yelled the Colonel。 Frank sent Spot forward like a white streak。 Sounder called to us in irresistible bays； which Moze answered； and then crippled Jude bayed in baffled impotent distress。
The atmosphere was charged with that lion。 As if by magic； the excitation communicated itself to all； and men； horses and dogs acted in accord。 The ride through the forest had been a jaunt。 This was a steeplechase； a mad； heedless； perilous； glorious race。 And we had for a pacemaker a cowboy mounted on a tireless mustang。
Always it seemed to me； while the wind rushed； the brush whipped； I saw Frank far ahead； sitting his saddle as if glued there； holding his reins loosely forward。 To see him ride so was a beautiful sight。 Jones let out his Comanche yell at every dozen jumps and Wallace sent back a thrilling 〃Waa…hoo…o！〃 In the excitement I had again checked my horse； and when Jones remembered； and loosed the bridle； how the noble animal responded！ The pace he settled into dazed me； I could hardly distinguish the deer trail down which he was thundering。 I lost my comrades ahead； the pinyons blurred in my sight； I only faintly heard the hounds。 It occurred to me we were making for the breaks； but I did not think of checking Satan。 I thought only of flying on faster and faster。
〃On！ On！ old fellow！ Stretch out！ Never lose this race！ We've got to be there at the finish！〃 I called to Satan； and he seemed to understand and stretched lower； farther； quicker。
The brush pounded my legs and clutched and tore my clothes； the wind whistled； the pinyon branches cut and whipped my face。 Once I dodg