Tampico sheep camp, and got not honey but some sugar, of which they
made syrup. They caught bees at three or four different places, tagged
them with cotton, filled them with syrup and let them fly, watching
till the cotton tufts were lost to view, and by going on the lines
till they met they found the hive. A piece of gunny-sack filled with
comb was put on each trigger, and that night, as Gringo strode with
that long, untiring swing that eats up miles like steam-wheels, his
sentinel nose reported the delicious smell, the one that above the
rest meant joy. So Gringo Jack followed fast and far, for the place
was a mile away, and reaching the curious log cavern, he halted and
sniffed. There were hunters' smells; yes, but, above all, that smell
of joy. He walked around to be sure, and knew it was inside; then
cautiously he entered. Some wood-mice scurried by. He sniffed the
bait, licked it, mumbled it, slobbered it, reveled in it, tugged to
increase the flow, when "bang!" went the great door behind and Jack was
caught. He backed up with a rush, bumped into the door, and had a
sense, at least, of peril. He turned over with an effort and attacked
the door, but it was strong. He examined the pen; went all around the
logs where their rounded sides seemed easiest to tear at with his
teeth. But they yielded nothing. He tried them all; he tore at the
roof, the floor; but all were heavy, hard logs, spiked and pinned as
one.

The sun came up as he raged, and shone through the little cracks of
the door, and so he turned all his power on that. The door was flat,
gave little hold, but he battered with his paws and tore with his
teeth till plank after plank gave way. With a final crash be drove the
wreck before him and Jack was free again.

The men read the story as though in print; yes, better, for bits of