BEARS I HAVE NEVER MET 



277 



I WAS KWASS 



(frightened), and I turned so white that all the 

 freckles faded out, and I hain't had one since, no 

 sir-ree, not a polka dot mHHHHHmmmmmummm 

 left of 'em!" 



Everybody from the 

 Kootenay lakes to Sel- 

 ish, and from Moose- 

 jaw to the Eraser Can- 

 yon, knows that a more 

 courageous man never 

 wore buckskin, baited a 

 trap or chewed tobacco 

 than old Uncle Jeff; he 

 is as absolutely fearless 

 as it is possible for a 

 man to be and still re- 

 tain enough discretion 

 for self-preservation. 



So when he filled his 

 little black pipe with a mixture of tobacco and the 

 inner bark of "red willow" (dogwood), we fixed 

 ourselves in comfortable positions to listen to the 

 story we knew was coming. 



Uncle Jeff can spin a good yarn; but he is on 

 some occasions 



A TERRIBLE NATURE FAKIR; 



and for the sake of making sport of the ignorance 

 of the average tenderfoot on topics of natural his- 



