90 TRUE BEAR STORIES. 



can see on water, and maybe was not a 

 very big liar, for a sailor, after all. We 

 liked his tales. He would not work, and 

 so he paid his way with stories of the sea. 

 The only thing about him that we did not 

 like, outside of his chronic idleness, was 

 his exalted opinion of himself and his un- 

 concealed contempt for everybody's opin- 

 ion but his own. 



"Bill," said my father one day, "those 

 black Spanish cattle will get after that red 

 sash and sailor jacket of yours some day 

 when you go down in the valley to your 

 claim, and they won't leave a grease spot. 

 Better go horseback, or at least take a gun, 

 when you go down next time." 



"Pshaw ! Squire. I wish I had as many 

 dollars as I ain't afeard of all the black 

 Spanish cattle in Oregon. Why, if they're 

 so blasted dangerous, how did your mis- 

 sionaries ever manage to drive them up 

 here from Mexico, anyhow?" 



Still, for all that, the very next time that 

 he saw the old sailor setting out at his snail 



