hour at a time on his coat to guard it assiduously from such
aggressive monsters as Ground Squirrels and Chipmunks. An interesting
variation of the day came about whenever the mower found a bumblebees'
nest. Jack loved honey, of course, and knew quite well what a bees'
nest was, so the call, "Honey--Jacky--honey!" never failed to bring
him in waddling haste to the spot. Jerking his nose up in token of
pleasure, he would approach cautiously, for he knew that bees have
stings. Watching his chance, he would dexterously slap at them with
his paws till, one by one, they were knocked down and crushed; then
sniffing hard for the latest information, he would stir up the nest
gingerly till the very last was tempted forth to be killed. When the
dozen or more that formed the swarm were thus got rid of, Jack would
carefully dig out the nest and eat first the honey, next the grubs and
wax, and last of all the bees he had killed, champing his jaws like a
little Pig at a trough, while his long red, snaky tongue was ever busy
lashing the stragglers into his greedy maw.

[Illustration: "JACK ATE TILL HIS PAUNCH LOOKED LIKE A RUBBER
BALLOON"]

Lan's nearest neighbor was Lou Bonamy, an ex-cowboy and sheep-herder,
now a prospecting miner. He lived, with his dog, in a shanty about a
mile below Kellyan's shack. Bonamy had seen Jack "perform on a
bee-crew." And one day, as he came to Kellyan's, he called out: "Lan,
bring Jack here and we'll have some fun." He led the way down the
stream into the woods. Kellyan followed him, and Jacky waddled at
Kellyan's heels, sniffing once in a while to make sure he was not
following the wrong pair of legs.

"There, Jacky, honey--honey!" and Bonamy pointed up a tree to an