Adventure, August 1917 — page 163: what you’re looking at

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

Bearly Reasonable pitied than censured,” sez Magpie. ‘‘After listenin’ to her, and observin’ her face and figger, I can’t believe th’ perfessor’s state- ment that he’s ignorant uh natural history. She’s shore uh bear, Ike, and I’d “Is that water ready for my ablution?”’ sez Mrs. Perfessor, stickin’ her fiead out of th’ door. “Right away,” sez I, goin’ over and pickin’ up some sticks. I don’t aim to invade her boodwah. Our stove ain’t five feet from my bunk, so I makes our 1i’1 fire outside. Magpie follers me over with uh can uh water and puts it on th’ fire. “Cripes!”’ sez he. ‘“‘Ain’t uh woman uh ‘ queer proposition, Ike? She said at first that she wants to wash her face and : “She said she wanted to wash. She didn’t designate her face, Magpie.” “That’s right. What isa ablution, Ike?” “How do I know,” I snorts. “I ain’t no -ladies’ maid, Magpie. If yuh wanted to know about rattlesnakes I’d be up on that.”’ I gives her th’ can uh hot water and she operates in th’ cabin, so we don’t know yet what she done. I jist gits breakfast on th’ fire when th’ doc shows up. He does uh double shuffle in th’ trail when he gits in sight and seems tickled all over about somethin’. “You haven’t got breakfast ready yet have your” he whoops, as he leans his shot- gun ag’in th’ cabin. ‘Heaven is my home! At last I have hit something.”’ He digs down in th’ pockets of his huntin’ coat, and dumps uh pile uh birds on th’ ground. ‘“‘Blue grouse,” he pronounces. “I found a fine flock of them up th’ gulch. Can we have them for breakfast, Mister Harper?” ‘“How perfectly lovely,” gurgles Mrs. Per- fessor. “I adore wild game. This will bea breakfast to remember. It must be won- derful to live in a country like this where you can go out and kill your meals.” “Yeaus,” agrees th’ perfessor. have mine grilled, if you don’t mind.” I looks at Magpie, who is rollin’ uh cig- aret and lookin’ at th’ ground, and sez to him— “How would you like yore’s, Mister Simpkins?” ‘“Never eat meat fer breakfast,’’ he states. *‘T’ll jist take some mush and bacon. Any- way, there ain’t more’n enough fer our guests.” = “T can go and git some more,” sez th’ he Be § | 11 happy sawbones. ‘‘Greatest sport I ever had. They’re not a bit wild. I’m going to enjoy this meal because it’s the first one I ever furnished in this way.” It was th’ only one of its kind I ever cooked, that’s uh cinch. They ate ’em, but there was’n’t much j Joy over that meal. Th’ Doc rastles one of ’em around fer uh while and gits up enough appetite to eat flap- jacks. When he finishes he lights one uh them burn-easy cigarets and opines to me that blue grouse is overrated as uh delicacy. I ain’t got th’ heart to disagree with him, and Magpie jist nods and turns away to light uh cigaret. Moose birds ain’t edzactly what you'd call “sweet and tender.” eee ie J asks Magpie, when we're alone ag’in. : ““Go where?” ‘““Down to see Mighty Jones.” “Tt ain’t goin’ to take two of us to bring that tame ol’ bear back here, Magpie, and besides I’m goin’ to be uh heap busy tryin’ to locate uh offspring fer it.”’ “We ain’t goin’ to bring it back here, Ike. Ain’t yuh got no imagination a-tall? Th’ perfessor orates that he desires uh wild “ARE yuh ready to go with me?” 161. grizzly, and it’s uh cinch he ain’t ignorant | enough to accept uh domestic bear. We got to produce this here animile in his native haunts to make th’ play come right.” All th’ time we’re pilgrimin’ down to Mighty’s wickiup he’s ponderin’ on uh place to stake out that bear. “Better git th’ cub and it’s mama before yuh rents uh bungaloo fer ’em,” I advises. “T feels that there’s liable to be many uh slip from th’ grizzly to th’ perfessor. I needs that two hundred, Magpie, but when it comes to gittin’ into trouble, Ike Harper is neutral.” This here li’] ol’ goat-headed Jones party sticks his head out of his cabin door and stares at me and Magpie. He don’t look friendly a-tall. ‘“‘We come down to git yer bear,” sez Mag- pie. ‘In th’ interests uh science I asks yuh to Mighty must uh had that shotgun in his hand behind th’ door, ’cause Magpie only gits uh runnin’ start on his oration when we’re gazin’ down uh two-barreled muzzle-loader. “Git!” sez Mighty. Magpie looks right past Mighty’s off ear and yells <a cCoMmiclsoo CO S|