All Heroes But One 



labored. Every time I glanced up, the distance 

 seemed the same. A climb which I decided would 

 not take more than fifteen minutes, required an hour. 



While resting at the foot of the crag, I heard more 

 baying of hounds, but for my life I could not tell 

 whether the sound came from up or down, and I 

 commenced to feel that I did not much care. Having 

 signaled till I was hoarse, and receiving none but 

 mock answers, I decided that if my companions had 

 not toppled over a cliff, they were wisely withholding 

 their breath. 



Another stiff pull up the slope brought me under 

 the rim wall, and there I groaned, because the wall 

 was smooth and shiny, without a break. I plodded 

 slowly along the base, with my rifle ready. Cougar 

 tracks were so numerous I got tired of looking at 

 them, but I did not forget that I might meet a tawny 

 fellow or two among those narrow passes of shat 

 tered rock, and under the thick, dark pifions. Going 

 on in this way, I ran point-blank into a pile of 

 bleached bones before a cave. I had stumbled on the 

 lair of a lion and from the looks of it one like that 

 of Old Tom. I flinched twice before I threw a stone 

 into the dark-mouthed cave. What impressed me as 

 soon as I found I was in no danger of being pawed 

 and clawed round the gloomy spot, was the fact of 

 the bones being there. How did they come on a 



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