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time," Hugh said. "I was 'stonished when I first saw you light a smoke-fire near them to keep the 'skeeters away."

"Yes, the 'skeeters just torment 'em. I knew a keeper once with another show; he had only one buil, which was lucky for him, 'cause one day when they were camped a swarm of bees came their way. Scissors, it must have been a sight!"

"Oh, how gorgeous!" cried Nita. "What happened?"

George bent a disapproving eye on her.

"Is that what you call it?"

Nita had the grace to blush. She hung her head.

"I didn't mean it. I only meant it would be fun to see what it did."

"Not so much fun," said George dryly. "The old buil simply snapped his shackle as if it was cotton and hit out for the open country. He went blind through anything that came his way, an' part of it was a pigsty with a lot of pigs. My friend said that the remarks of the pigs that survived were loud beyond anything he ever heard."

Hugh and Nita giggled. George looked at them, his own eyes twinkling.

"It took 'em three days to get that buil, an' when they found him it was only by his tracks, 'cause he was in a river with only the very end of his trunk above water, coolin' his stings. That's what they do, you know, when they ford a deep river—they'11 go through any depth so long as they can keep the tip of the trunk out."

"I don't think humans have got anything so useful as a buli's trunk-tip," said Hugh.