Kitty slowly gathered her lissom body in a ball and lay panting, with the same brave wildfire in her eyes.

Jones stroked her black-tipped ears and ran his hand down her glossy fur.

All the time he had kept up a low monotone, talking to her in the strange language he used toward animals.

Then he rose to his feet.
"We'll go back to camp now, and get a pack, saddle and horse," he said.
"She'll be safe here.

We'll rope her again, tie her up, throw her over a pack-saddle, and take her to camp." To my utter bewilderment the hounds suddenly commenced fighting among themselves.