JW: So you hear all kinds of stories about he was out doing this, doing that, with a hand ax, and he was, and he was apparently out clearing trail, and he was in the chokecherry patch, at the time of the year when the chokecherries were ripe and the bears were coming in, and I think probably what happened—my best guess is that he surprised the bear—
BH: Nothing about cubs in your mother's version of the story?
JW: About what?
BH: That there were cubs with the bear?
JW: No, I never heard that. These stories grow, you know. I wouldn't be surprised, knowing bears, that there was a cub, and he happened to accidentally get between the cub and the bear he could have some fun, and he did. But I do not know if there was a cub there or not.
BH: Just that he surprised the bear, and I read that it was one of the biggest bears he'd ever seen.
JW: Well, I imagine he looked awful big at that time. When he stood up. It was—gee—I do not know if it was a male or female, and uh, for a long time, the ax he used—the little handaxe he used was around, and I don't whatever became of it. It was about this long. . . typical of the time.
BH: Did he have—other than having his fingers mangled, were there any other injuries from that?
JW: He was like probably most cattlemen when they were roping cattle, they'd get their fingers Between the rope and the saddle horn and raise hell, and I'm sure he had that happen. He lost one, and I can't remember how he lost it—I would suspect that was probably how—because it was common for ropers to do that. It just seemed like he must have been in his last years, in awful arthritic pain. . . yeah. . .
BH: Oh, yeah, I imagine.
MW: But she asked if there were any other injuries beside the hand?
JW: Oh, you mean from the bear? Oh, yeah, it bit him in the head, and mostly on the arms—so he was fighting him with his arms, according to what my mom said. Yeah. . .
BH: He killed the bear, right?
JW: Yeah.
BH: And did they go back and get the bear's body, or anything?
JW: I don't know. I wouldn't be surprised.
BH: He crawled to the cabin, is that right?
JW: Well, he walked—crawled, yeah. It would have been from the chokecherry patch where I think it happened, it would have been three-eighths of a mile, or so.
BH: That's a good piece to crawl.
JW: I often wondered, that he must have been glad to get to the crick to wash him off a little bit, but there was never any details like that brought out that I know of, it was just this was a thing that happened.
BH: One of the things that you see in a lot of different places about your granddad is that he killed 100 mountain lions—at least 100 mountain lions. Did you ever hear any stories about that?
JW: All I remember, growing up up there is that it was mountain lion country. And my mother and I had mountain lions follow us on two or three different occasions, I'm sure out of curiosity more than anything else. Umm, I would guess that my granddad would shoot a mountain lion at every opportunity because they were great calf killers. Whether he killed 100 mountain lions or not, I would have no idea. As long as he lived there, I suppose it's entirely possible, because it was, as I said, it was a great mountain lion country. And it's always kind of surprised me, because of course, mountain lions will take in a broad, broad range—and it would always surprise me because there were nor, in my opinion, the number of deer in that area that would support a great family or families of mountain lions up in there. Now there were deer closer to the dunes, and I don't know what the deer situation was over around Liberty. I imagine it was rather scant if there were a lot of miners and stuff in there. . .