"Yes. They was frightened at first. The coarse treatment they gets from hunters, makes them sort of bashful with any stranger. Ye see, b'ars yearns to man, same as the heathen does to their fool gods, whereas bullets, pizen, and deadfalls is sort of discouraging. Their sentiments get mixed, they acts confused, and naturally if they're shot at, they'll get hostile same as you and me. They is misunderstood, and that's how nobody has a kind word for grizzlies."
"But the greatest hunters are afraid of them."
"The biggest criminals has got most scare at police. B'ars has no use for sportsmen, nor me neither. My rifle's heaps fiercer than any b'ar, and I've chased more sportsmen than I has grizzlies."
"Wasn't Mr. Trevor one of them?"
Jesse grinned.
"Tell me," I said, for the other side of the story must be worth hearing.
"Wall, Mr. Trevor took out a summins agin me for chasing him off my ranch. He got fined for having no gun license, and no dawg license, and not paying his poll-tax, and Cap Taylor bound him over to keep the peace. I ain't popular now with Mr. Trevor, whereas he got off cheap. Now, if them b'ars could shoot—"
I hadn't thought of that. "Can they be tamed?" I asked.
"Men can be gentled, and they needs taming most. Thar was three grizzlies sort of adopted a party by the name of Capen Adams, and camped and traveled with him most familiar. Once them four vagrants promenaded on Market Street in 'Frisco. Not that I holds with this Adams in misleading his b'ars among man-smell so strong and distrackful to their peace of mind. But still I reckon Capen Adams and me sort of takes after each other. I'm only attractive to animals."
"Oh, surely!" I laughed.