The lasso caught on a branch, hauling her up short, and there she hung in mid-air, writhing, struggling and giving utterance to sounds terribly human.

For several seconds she swung, slowly descending, in which frenzied time I, with ruling passion uppermost, endeavored to snap a picture of her.
The unintelligible commands Jones was yelling to Frank and me ceased suddenly with a sharp crack of breaking wood.

Then crash! Jones fell out of the tree.

The lasso streaked up, ran over the limb, while the cougar dropped pell-mell into the bunch of waiting, howling dogs.
The next few moments it was impossible for me to distinguish what actually transpired.

A great flutter of leaves whirled round a swiftly changing ball of brown and black and yellow, from which came a fiendish clamor.
Then I saw Jones plunge down the ravine and bounce here and there in mad efforts to catch the whipping lasso.