OH, SHOOT! 



hotfoot it back to her acorn bower, thence 

 back here, repeating the journey over and over 

 until monotony wore us down or until those 

 thorns and brambles reduced us to harmless 

 shreds. But Governor, the Siberian wolf- 

 hound, spoiled her pretty little program. He 

 leaped upon her back, sank his incisors into 

 her neck, and enjoyed a free ride until he was 

 scraped off. 



I have never had a dog bite the back of my 

 neck, but I am ticklish, and I know I should 

 resent it as bitterly as did our lioness. Having 

 rid herself of her passenger, she plunged 

 straight down the slope, and the pack swept 

 after her. 



We men sat down and groaned. It was 

 then and still is my belief that a rope is a 

 darned inconclusive weapon with which to 

 hunt wild animals. A slippery-elm club offers 

 far better terminal facilities. 



By this time those lariats and leather 

 collars and log chains which we had pains- 

 takingly carried back and forth had come to 

 weigh as much as a collection of anvils, for 

 in such a country a quill toothpick will tax a 

 man's endurance. 



"You g-go ahead and keep her mind oc- 

 206 



