60 
WILD AMERICANS 
few dogs that could catch a jack rabbit. On the open 
prairie, where there isn’t any brush, I have even 
chased jack rabbits on my horse. But I never caught 
one.” 
The children next began to stir up the bushes and 
tufts of grass around them. Uncle Ely had suggested 
that there might be some young jack rabbits. 
Ginger looked and looked and looked, and Buck 
peered here and there and everywhere, but they 
found no nest. They were about ready to continue 
their hike when Uncle Ely quietly pointed back to¬ 
ward the trail over which they had been walking. 
“See?” he asked. 
Both children stared. “No. What is it?” Buck 
whispered, still looking. 
Quietly Uncle Ely came to them, knelt beside them 
and pointed. “Right under a comer of that rock,” 
he whispered, “with the clump of dried grass almost 
screening them from us. See now?” 
The children looked carefully for a moment, then, 
“O-o-oh, yes, sir! Bunnies! Baby jack rabbits, aren’t 
they, Uncle Ely?” 
“That’s right. But they know we have seen them. 
They won’t be there long. They will —there they go /” 
Even as he spoke, two little furry gray fellows. 
