John Liver Eating Johnston
P.O. Box 33842
Granada Hills, CA 91394
dormanne
Liver Eating Johnston in Fiction and Art
From: Liver Eating Johnston meets Uno the Bear
Chapter 15 The Show
Uno the Bear licked his face as he turned around. Uno had gotten out in the night, wandered off and knowing in the morning he would be fed came back for breakfast running into Johnson who had just come off a mid-nighter stumbling for the outhouse.
Liver Eating Johnson was a big man, but the bear knocked him down like a snapping twig. Around the camp there were bets instantly that Johnson would bite the bear first. Johnson pushed Uno’s slobbering countenance off to one side—there were a flurry of bets on which had the worst breath—and tried to roll out from under. The bear was too big, too strong and hugged Johnson closer….
“Aarrrggg,”, Johnson managed to muster before his voice was lost in the slathering jaws.
That bear, honest to God and man, loved Johnson. There was not a thing he could do about it. It sat on him and started licking away.
The Indians had named Johnson Big Bear and the clan collectively knew that Uno and the Liver Eater were brothers. General Miles had once said that Johnson was one of the hairiest men he had ever seen. The whole troupe took it as a sign. Uno and Johnson were as close friends as any. Most figured Johnson just didn’t want to show it.
“Get this gol danged thing off me!” He was just warming up and the lives stock were beginning to rouse from the clamor and want of a belly full.
The wild west show was playing in Janesville, Wisconsin that weekend before packing up on the train for Chicago for the 4th of July. Yesterday there were 6000 in attendance at the Driving Park on the edge of town and today the crowd would run that and then some. At 25 and 50 cents a head it would be a tidy sum. Every man jack was ready to move on especially Hardwick since he had dallied too long in town with the property owner’s wife the night they pulled in.
“Dam-n-Tar-,” was all he could muster as the bear drooled and slurped his way across Johnson’s face. The gravel on that dusty flat was digging in his backside.
“Git that trainer over t’har for I limber up my gun!” was all he could muster as he fumbled around in his faded red long johns, looking for that skinny kid that took care of the beat and pushing himself away from the slobbering snout of the bear. He wondered why the bear hadn’t taken a bite out of him, since he would bite anyone except his owner Sullivan. He kept one eye on Uno and was looking for an avenue out. He tried to roll. The bear simply shifted his ample haunch and resumed licking.
“Thet damned Sullivan is feeding this thing too much. Like to crush me”, Johnson managed to get a leg out.
The bear started growling. Two of the ropers and some of the crew were coming to help.
Chapter 16, The Show goes on…..
During yesterday’s performance only 2 of the cowboys were hurt, and the shots fired into the glass balls, coins, cards and hats hit nary a window in town. Nor any body, so, all in all, it was a good day. There was a good night’s meal at the mess and plenty to drink at the scout’s tent. The Crow simmered down with a little drum beating and some squalling after managing to snag a bucket of fire water behind the tent. Hardwick and the cowboys were busy with their own cups.
Johnson didn’t have a start on a morning’s pleasure.
“War’s thet bar!” he hollered. Most everyone ducked or ran. He was a surly being and a beast when aroused.
Johnston had made it though yesterday’s rescue sequence and the Deadwood stage Indian fight. He jumped off a couple of horses and was unscathed through the buffalo stampede. He then had to look out for the bear Uno.
If Sullivan let his bear loose too soon it would head right for the Liver Eater and sit on him. That would ruin the entire show.
There was always a mad scramble of betting and getting well out of the way. A five hundred pound bear that bites is a respected bear. The natives knew enough to climb up on the back of the stands.
Now this morning brought a joy that someone else was the misfortunate and money could be made.
Chapter 15 The Show
Uno the Bear licked his face as he turned around. Uno had gotten out in the night, wandered off and knowing in the morning he would be fed came back for breakfast running into Johnson who had just come off a mid-nighter stumbling for the outhouse.
Liver Eating Johnson was a big man, but the bear knocked him down like a snapping twig. Around the camp there were bets instantly that Johnson would bite the bear first. Johnson pushed Uno’s slobbering countenance off to one side—there were a flurry of bets on which had the worst breath—and tried to roll out from under. The bear was too big, too strong and hugged Johnson closer….
“Aarrrggg,”, Johnson managed to muster before his voice was lost in the slathering jaws.
That bear, honest to God and man, loved Johnson. There was not a thing he could do about it. It sat on him and started licking away.
The Indians had named Johnson Big Bear and the clan collectively knew that Uno and the Liver Eater were brothers. General Miles had once said that Johnson was one of the hairiest men he had ever seen. The whole troupe took it as a sign. Uno and Johnson were as close friends as any. Most figured Johnson just didn’t want to show it.
“Get this gol danged thing off me!” He was just warming up and the lives stock were beginning to rouse from the clamor and want of a belly full.
The wild west show was playing in Janesville, Wisconsin that weekend before packing up on the train for Chicago for the 4th of July. Yesterday there were 6000 in attendance at the Driving Park on the edge of town and today the crowd would run that and then some. At 25 and 50 cents a head it would be a tidy sum. Every man jack was ready to move on especially Hardwick since he had dallied too long in town with the property owner’s wife the night they pulled in.
“Dam-n-Tar-,” was all he could muster as the bear drooled and slurped his way across Johnson’s face. The gravel on that dusty flat was digging in his backside.
“Git that trainer over t’har for I limber up my gun!” was all he could muster as he fumbled around in his faded red long johns, looking for that skinny kid that took care of the beat and pushing himself away from the slobbering snout of the bear. He wondered why the bear hadn’t taken a bite out of him, since he would bite anyone except his owner Sullivan. He kept one eye on Uno and was looking for an avenue out. He tried to roll. The bear simply shifted his ample haunch and resumed licking.
“Thet damned Sullivan is feeding this thing too much. Like to crush me”, Johnson managed to get a leg out.
The bear started growling. Two of the ropers and some of the crew were coming to help.
Chapter 16, The Show goes on…..
During yesterday’s performance only 2 of the cowboys were hurt, and the shots fired into the glass balls, coins, cards and hats hit nary a window in town. Nor any body, so, all in all, it was a good day. There was a good night’s meal at the mess and plenty to drink at the scout’s tent. The Crow simmered down with a little drum beating and some squalling after managing to snag a bucket of fire water behind the tent. Hardwick and the cowboys were busy with their own cups.
Johnson didn’t have a start on a morning’s pleasure.
“War’s thet bar!” he hollered. Most everyone ducked or ran. He was a surly being and a beast when aroused.
Johnston had made it though yesterday’s rescue sequence and the Deadwood stage Indian fight. He jumped off a couple of horses and was unscathed through the buffalo stampede. He then had to look out for the bear Uno.
If Sullivan let his bear loose too soon it would head right for the Liver Eater and sit on him. That would ruin the entire show.
There was always a mad scramble of betting and getting well out of the way. A five hundred pound bear that bites is a respected bear. The natives knew enough to climb up on the back of the stands.
Now this morning brought a joy that someone else was the misfortunate and money could be made.
P.O. Box 33842
Granada Hills, CA 91394
dormanne
