Even as she was in the air, Jones took a quick step to one side and dodged as he threw his lasso round the sapling.

She missed him, but one alarmingly outstretched paw grazed his shoulder.

A twist of Jones's big hand fastened the lasso--and Kitty was a prisoner.

While she fought, rolled, twisted, bounded, whirled, writhed with hissing, snarling fury, Jones sat mopping the sweat and blood from his face.
Kitty's efforts were futile; she began to weaken from the choking.
Jones took another rope, and tightening a noose around her back paws, which he lassoed as she rolled over, he stretched her out.

She began to contract her supple body, gave a savage, convulsive spring, which pulled Jones flat on the ground, then the terrible wrestling started again.