I knew if I could keep my feet I could beat the avalanche.

More by good luck than management I outran the roaring stones and landed safely.

Then rounding the cliff below, I found myself on a narrow ledge, with a wall to my left, and to the right the tips of pinyon trees level with my feet.
Innocently and wearily I passed round a pillar-like corner of wall, to come face to face with an old lioness and cubs.

I heard the mother snarl, and at the same time her ears went back flat, and she crouched.
The same fire of yellow eyes, the same grim snarling expression so familiar in my mind since Old Tom had leaped at me, faced me here.
My recent vow of extermination was entirely forgotten and one frantic spring carried me over the ledge.
Crash! I felt the brushing and scratching of branches, and saw a green blur.

I went down straddling limbs and hit the ground with a thump.
Fortunately, I landed mostly on my feet, in sand, and suffered no serious bruise.