The Last of the Plainsmen 



he threw me into the brush. I tore my clothes, and 

 got this bruise, but wasn t much hurt. My horse ; 

 pretty lame.&quot; 



I began a recital of my experience, modestly omit 

 ting the incident where I bravely faced an old lioness. 

 Upon consulting my watch, I found I had been 

 almost four hours climbing out. At that moment, 

 Frank poked a red face over the rim. He was in his 

 shirt sleeves, sweating freely, and wore a frown I 

 had never seen before. He puffed like a porpoise, 

 and at first could hardly speak. 



&quot; Where were you all ? &quot; he panted. &quot; Say ! 

 but mebbe this hasn t been a chase ! Jim an Wallace 

 an 1 me went tumblin down after the dogs, each one 

 lookin out for his perticilar dog, an darn me if I 

 don t believe his lion, too. Don took one oozin 

 down the canon, with me hot-footin it after him. 

 An somewhere he treed thet lion, right below me, in 

 a box canon, sort of an offshoot of the second rim, 

 an I couldn t locate him. I blamed near killed 

 myself more n once. Look at my knuckles ! Barked 

 em slidin about a mile down a smooth wall. I 

 thought once the lion had jumped Don, but soon I 

 heard him barkin again. All thet time I heard 

 Sounder, an once I heard the pup. Jim yelled, an 

 somebody was shootin . But I couldn t find nobody, 

 or make nobody hear me. Thet canon is a mighty 



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