Adventure, August 1917 — page 159: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Bearly Reasonable personal satisfaction I would observe the home life of the rattlesnake and prairie- dog, but the most important is the test of the maternal instinct in the grizzly bear. “‘T shall expect you to furnish me with the opportunity to carry out this experiment to a satisfactory conclusion, and in case you can do. so to my satisfaction, I am willing to remunerate you to the extent of two hun- dred dollars each. Of course I am pre- pared to pay you each five dollars per day. Do you feel competent to assist me?”’ MAGPIE sticks his thumbs into his " belt, shifts his weight on to one leg, and squints at them burros. “‘Tke,”’ sez he, “remove th’—er—imped— nipe packs off them beasts uh bur- en.” And then to th’ perfessor: “Competent is my middle name. When it comes to th’ maternal instinct of grizzly bears I feels as competent as uh hungry coyote in uh herd uh sick sheep. Ike isa authority on snakes and gophers, so be- tween us I reckon you'll git enough material to last yuh a lifetime. What do yuh know about grizzlies?”’ ‘Nothing at all,’’ sez th’ perfessor. “TI fear that I wouldn’t know one if I were to meet it. I'll admit it was a foolish argu- ment, when neither Professor Manning nor myself are at all familiar with natural his- tory, but it is things like this that lend zest to life. Am I right, Mister Simpson?”’ “Simpkins,” sez Magpie. ‘Uh-huh, I reckon it does. Yessir, I’d shore agree that it might. But, Perfessor, if I was in yore place, not bein’ familiar with grizzlies, I’d shore side-step anythin’ I met that wasn’t familiar. There’s one redeemin’ feature about uh grizzly—he don’t stop to argue. One or two uh them square-heads would put enough zest in uh man’s life to keep him sup- plied fer right smart of uh time.” Well, that shore was some outfit. Them packs looks like uh travelin’ banquet. There’s three foldin’ bunks, sleepin’ bags, rubber bathtubs and most everything that uh man can’t use in th’ hills. Also there is enough fancy grub to feed uh roundup. I manages to git them things off th’ jacks, and Magpie comes over and looks ’em over. “My Gawd,” sez he. ‘This is th’ limit, hammered to uh sharp point. What’ll we do with ’em, Ike?”’ ‘““Yore uh competent,” sezI. ‘Don’t ask 157 me what to do, Magpie Simpson. perfessor’s squaw goin’ to git supper?”’ “She is not, and yuh might call me by my right name. ‘Th’ perfessor sez that he was informed by Mister Henderson that Mister Harper is th’ best culinary artist in th’ State. Uh culinary artist is uh polite name fer uh bull cook, Ike.” = ‘Sounds re-fined, anyway,’ I agrees. ‘‘But some uh these day’s I’m goin’ to git my meat-hooks on Ricky Henderson, and there’s goin’ to be sorrow in th’ Henderson tribe. Culinary artist ! Can’t th’ doctor cook?” ‘“‘Th’ doctor can’t do nothin’, Ike. He informs me that th’ one ambition in life is to hit somethin’ with his shotgun. Sez he never had and never expects to, but he’s game to keep on tryin’.” Pretty soon th’ doc comes down from th’ cabin, and sets down on one of th’ packs. He dusts th’ end of uh cigaret on his hand, and grins at me and Magpie. “Some outfit, eh?” he sez. ‘“‘What do “Well,” sez Magpie, a | knowed uh feller oncet what got hung fer sayin’ what he thought, so with this one short remark I'll close—awful!” “Exactly,” agrees th’ doc, explodin’ uh cloud uh smoke that would asphyxiate uh gila monster. “I quite agrees with you. You see th’ professor has a lot more money yuh think of it?” than any ordinary professor ought to have and if le wishes to spend it on a proposition like this it’s none of our funeral.”’ ‘Th’ first part of yore oration sounds sen- sible,” sez Magpie, “but th’ last line ain’t exactly true. Knowin’ th’ natcheral dis- position of uh fe-male grizzly, I’d say that it might be our funeral. Jist because we’re merely accessories to th’ fact don’t affect th’ gray matter in th’ skull of uh she- grizzly. ‘All men looks alike to her.- Mebby she’d shy at th’ perfessor, but I’m bettin’ that uh rear view of th’ ol’ boy goin’ up uh tree or doin’ th’ vanishin’ act over uh hill might fool uh mad grizzly into thinkin’ she was chasin’ uh real, honest-to-grandma man. Uh course she’d find out her mistake, but by that time it’s too late to rectify it. No self- respectin’ rattler’d bite him, either, but yuh got to figger that nobody ever met uh self- respectin’ rattler. No, sir, I reckon we got to close-herd th’ perfessor.’’ “I’d be there with my shotgun,” grins th’ CoOMmiclsoo Is th’. © 5}