had a private sheep corral of his own, and the size of the monster,
forty or fifty feet high now--for such Bears are of rapid and
continuous growth--Kellyan's eye twinkled and he said:

"Say, Pedro, I believe you once lived pretty nigh the Hassayampa,
didn't you?"

This does not mean that that is a country of great Bears, but was an
allusion to the popular belief that any one who tastes a single drop
of the Hassayampa River can never afterward tell the truth. Some
scientists who have looked into the matter aver that this wonderful
property is common to the Rio Grande as well as the Hassayampa, and,
indeed, all the rivers of Mexico, as well as their branches, and the
springs, wells, ponds, lakes, and irrigation ditches. However that may
be, the Hassayampa is the best-known stream of this remarkable
peculiarity. The higher one goes, the greater its potency, and Pedro
was from the headwaters. But he protested by all the saints that his
story was true. He pulled out a little bottle of garnets, got by
glancing over the rubbish laid about their hills by the desert ants;
he thrust it back into his wallet and produced another bottle with a
small quantity of gold-dust, also gathered at the rare times when he
was not sleepy, and the sheep did not need driving, watering, stoning,
or reviling.

"Here, I bet dat it ees so."

Gold is a loud talker.

Kellyan paused. "I can't cover your bet, Pedro, but I'll kill your
Bear for what's in the bottle."