1^8 THE BEST OF THE FUN 



in;in than any time by Injins, and all along of an old fool 

 as I had trapped with winter before. Grizzly Joe, they 

 called him. He's now a sheriff in Yellow Park county. 

 He'd gammoned old Dug Eraser out of a lot of skins him 

 and me had trapped that winter. Now this here Grizzly 

 Joe'd do a man out of anything — jump a claim — and bluff 

 the man after, if he thought he could. He weighed over 

 200 lb. ; and when he worked in the mines they gave him 

 the wages of two men, reg'lar. Well, we had some words, 

 and I says, ' Mebbe you did settle with Dug but you didn't 

 with me, and one of you's got to do it.' So I goes to Dug 

 Eraser pretty mad. He didn't dare give Grizzly Joe away ; 

 and yet I seed how it was. 'Joe may weigh 200 lb.,' 

 I says, ' but that won't make no difference if he comes to 

 play any tricks on me ! ' So next time he sees Grizzly Joe, 

 Dug says to him, ' Jim's going to shoot you on sight ! ' It 

 might a been three months arter ; I was setting some 

 beaver traps on Red Water Creek, Wyoming, you know. 

 I'd laid down my Winchester, and was walking across the 

 ice above the beaver dam, when over the dam I sees a 

 man's head come up slowly ; then I sees a gun-barrel laid 

 straight for me, and then a big black beard as I knowed 

 could belong to no one but Grizzly Joe. ' Hulloa, Joe ! ' 

 says I, ' what might you be a doing ? ' ' Nothin' now,' 

 says he, ' but if you'd had a gun in your hand, you'd a been 

 a dead man now, sure enough ! ' ' Well, Joe, you'd got the 

 drop on me, and no mistake. But what's that for ?' And 

 then it come out, what Dug Eraser had told him. 

 So between that there old fool, and this mean cuss, I 

 come very near having to quit trapping altogether. I hold 

 now that if he hadn't a knowed that my party and his'n 

 were both within sound of gunshot, why, he'd a pulled 

 trigger as soon as he drawed bead." 



Time allowed of no more of Jim's stories for that day. 

 Saddling up, we rode to the summit of the mountain — the 

 final acclivity so steep that we had to pull our horses after 

 us with the saddle-rope, mine turning a backward somer- 

 sault at the first attempt. Now we travelled the ridge for 

 two or three miles — no sign of elk, but the fresh-skinned 

 carcase of a young deer, showing that the villainous hide- 



