that there will be enough left, dear," said Uncle George.
"However many we shoot, there will be enough left. I believe we might
kill a thousand to-day and not know the difference."

The cats had already done a good deal at hunting linnets on their own
account, in a clandestine and irregular manner. They were fond of linnet
flesh, and were only too glad to have the assistance of an able-bodied
man with a gun.

When they first comprehended Jim's plan,--that he would go along with
his gun, and they should scare the linnets out of the trees, wait for
the shot, watch to see where the birds fell, and then run and pick them
up,--it was droll to see how clever they became in carrying it out.
Retriever dogs could not have done better. The trouble was, that Jim
could shoot birds faster than the cats could eat them; and no cat would
stir from his bird till it was eaten up, sometimes feathers and all; and
after he had had three or four, he didn't care about any more that day.
To tell the truth, after the first few days, they seemed a little tired
of the linnet diet, and did not work with so much enthusiasm. But at
first it was droll, indeed, to see their excitement. As soon as Jim
appeared with his gun, every cat in sight would come scampering; and it
would not be many minutes before the rest of the band--however they
might have been scattered,--would somehow or other get wind of what was
going on, and there would be the whole seventeen in a pack at Jim's
heels, all keeping a sharp lookout on the trees; then, as soon as a cat
saw a linnet, he would make for the tree, sometimes crouch under the
tree, sometimes run up it; in either case the linnet was pretty sure to
fly out: pop, would go Jim's rifle; down would come the linnet;
helter-skelter would go the cats to the spot where it fell; and in a
minute more, there would be nothing to be seen of that linnet, except a
few feathers and a drop or two of blood on the ground.

[Illustration: JIM AND THE CATS HUNTING LINNETS.--Page 111.]

Jusy liked to go with Jim on these hunting expeditions. But Rea would
never go. She used to sit sorrowfully at home, and listen for the
gunshots; and at every shot she heard, she would exclaim to Anita, "Oh,
dear! Oh, dear! There's another dear little linnet dead. I think Jusy is
a cruel, cruel boy! I wouldn't see them shot for anything, and I don't
like the cats any more."

"But," said Anita, "my little senorita did not mind having the gophers
kill