"What's on for today?" queried Emett.
"I guess we may as well hang around camp and rest the hounds," replied Jones. "I did intend to go after the lion that killed the deer, but this snow has taken away the scent."
"Shore it'll stop snowin' soon," said Jim.
The falling snow had thinned out and looked like flying powder; the leaden clouds, rolling close to the tree-tops, grew brighter and brighter; bits of azure sky shone through rifts.
Navvy had tramped off to find the horses, and not long after his departure he sent out a prolonged yell that echoed through the forest.
"Something's up," said Emett instantly. "An Indian never yells like that at a horse."
