Peter shook his head. "I don't," said he very meekly.

"Then it is time you did," replied Old Mother Nature. "If you had
ever been in the Far West you would know him. Everybody out there
knows him. He isn't quite as big as Antelope Jack but still he is
a big fellow. He wears a brownish coat much like Jumper's, and
the tips of his long ears are black. His tail is longer than
Jumper's, and when he runs he carries it down."

"I don't carry mine down," Peter piped up.

Old Mother Nature laughed right out. "True enough, Peter, true
enough," said she. "You couldn't if you wanted to. It isn't long
enough to carry any way but up. Jack has more of a tail than you
have, just as he has longer legs. My, how he can run! He goes with
great bounds and about every tenth bound he jumps very high. This
is so that he can get a good look around to watch out for enemies."

"Who are his enemies?" asked Peter.

"Foxes, Coyotes, Hawks, Eagles, Owls, Weasels, and men," replied
Old Mother Nature. "In fact, he has about as many enemies as
you have."

"I suppose when you say men, you mean hunters," said Peter.

Old Mother Nature nodded. "Yes," said she, "I mean those who hunt
him for fun and those who hunt him to get rid of him."