As soon as he reached the
water his hind feet were seen tearing into the nest, kicking it to
pieces; then he let it go and struck out for the shore, the nest
floating in rags down-stream. He ran alongside till the comb lodged
against a shallow place, then he plunged in again; the wasps were
drowned or too wet to be dangerous, and he carried his prize to the
bank in triumph. No honey; of course, that was a disappointment, but
there were lots of fat white grubs--almost as good--and Jack ate till
his paunch looked like a little rubber balloon.
"How is that?" chuckled Lan.
"The laugh is on us," answered Bonamy, with a grimace.
III. THE TROUT POOL
Jack was now growing into a sturdy cub, and he would follow Kellyan
even as far as Bonamy's shack. One day, as they watched him rolling
head over heels in riotous glee, Kellyan remarked to his friend: "I'm
afraid some one will happen on him an' shoot him in the woods for a
wild B'ar."
"Then why don't you ear-mark him with them thar new sheep-rings?" was
the sheep-man's suggestion.
Thus it was that, much against his will, Jack's ears were punched and
he was decorated with earrings like a prize ram. The intention was
good, but they were neither ornamental nor comfortable. Jack fought
them for days, and when at length he came home trailing a branch that
was caught in the jewel of his left ear, Kellyan impatiently removed
them.
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