There was once a prospector of long ago who had set up camp for the night after a hard day of prospecting. He was frying bacon and brewing coffee over his campfire, anticipating a lovely dinner under the open, star filled sky among the soothing sounds of crickets when he heard a rustling in the brush getting closer and closer.
By and by, a sizable, thickly bearded man dressed all in leather emerged riding a grizzly bear which he was controlling by a tight grip on his furry neck with his strong, large hands. He rode right up to the camp and said in a gravelly voice, "I'd be obliged for a swallow of coffee".
Not being one to turn away people in need and taking into consideration the riders imposing size and roughness, the prospector agreed and the stranger, without getting down from the grizzly, reached for the scalding hot coffee pot, grasped it with his bare hands and poured half of its scalding contents down his throat without a wince. He wiped his mouth with his leather sleeved arm, replace the coffee pot onto the fire and said,
"Many thanks. I hate to run off so rudely but there's a man chasing me and he's one bad son-of-a-bitch."
No comments:
Post a Comment