A great bank of snow, sliding from the pine overhead almost buried the Navajo, to our infinite delight. We all sought the shelter of the tents, and sleep again claimed us.
I awoke about five o'clock. The sun was low, making crimson paths in the white aisles of the forest. A cold wind promised a frosty morning.
"To-morrow will be the day for lions," exclaimed Jones.
While we hugged the fire, Navvy brought up the horses and gave them their oats. The hounds sought their shelter and the lions lay hidden in their beds of pine. The round red sun dropped out of sight beyond the trees, a pink glow suffused all the ridges; blue shadows gathered in the hollow, shaded purple and stole upward. A brief twilight succeeded to a dark, coldly starlit night.
Once again, when I had crawled into the warm hole of my sleeping bag, was I hailed from the other tent.
Emett called me twice, and as I answered, I heard Jones remonstrating in a low voice.
"Shore, Jones has got 'em!" yelled Jim. "He can't keep it a secret no longer."
"Hey, Jones," I cried, "do you remember laughing at me?"
"No, I don't," growled Jones.
"Listen to this: Haw-haw! haw! haw! ho-ho! ho-ho! bueno! bueno!" and I wound up with a string of "hi! hi! hi! hi! hi!"