nd opened up on him.

"Oh," he explains, "it just plumb amuses me to see the dumfool at his
childish work. Why don't you teach 'em to come to that brass horn, and
save your voice?"

"Tusky," says I, with feelin', "sometimes you do seem to get a glimmer
of real sense."

Well, first off them chickens used to throw back-summersets over that
horn. You have no idee how slow chickens is to learn things. I could
tell you things about chickens--say, this yere bluff about roosters
bein' gallant is all wrong. I've watched 'em. When one finds a nice feed
he gobbles it so fast that the pieces foller down his throat like
yearlin's through a hole in the fence. It's only when he scratches up a
measly one-grain quick-lunch that he calls up the hens and stands noble
and self-sacrificin' to one side. That ain't the point, which is, that
after two months I had them long-laigs so they'd drop everythin' and
come kitin' at the honk-honk of that horn. It was a purty sight to see
'em, sailin' in from all directions twenty foot at a stride. I was proud
of 'em, and named 'em the Honk-honk Breed. We didn't have no others, for
by now the coyotes and bob-cats had nailed the straight-breds. There
wasn't no wild cat or coyote could catch one of my Honk-honks, no, sir!

We made a little on our placer--just enough to keep interested. Then the
supervisors decided to fix our road, and what's more, _they done it!_
That's the only part in this yarn that's hard to believe, but, boys,
you'll have to take it on faith. They plowed her, and crowned her, and
scraped her, and rolled her, and when they moved on we had the fanciest
highway in the State of Californy.

That noon--the day they called her a job--Tusky and I sat smokin' our
pipes as per usual, when way over the foothills we seen a cloud of dust
and faint to our ears was bore a whizzin' sound. The chickens was
gathered under the cottonwood for the heat of the day, but they didn't
pay no attention. Then faint, but clear, we heard another of them brass
horns:

"Honk! honk!" says it, and every one of them chickens woke up, and stood
at attention.

"Honk! honk!" it hollered clearer and nearer. Then over the hill come an
automobeel, blowin' vigorous at every jump.

"Stop 'em! Stop 'em!" I yells to Tusky, kickin' over my chair, as I
springs to my feet.

But it was too late. Out the gate sprinted them poor devoted chickens,
and up the road they trailed in vain pursuit. The last we seen of 'em
was a