I was sittin’ in the jungle in Winnemucca, in amongst all these willas, ‘n two city cops come over ‘n ast me if there’s any other tramps aroun’. There was a young guy camped the next jungle over, but I didn’t know what these cops were up to so I didn’t let on anythin’. I tell ‘em, “No one else aroun’ I know ‘bout.” ‘N they left me alone ‘n started beatin’ the brush over by the other jungles. They found that young guy ‘n dragged ‘im back to my camp ‘n made ‘im kneel down on the groun’ in front of ‘em. They pulled a gun on ‘im, ‘n checked his I.D. When they was done askin’ ‘im questions, they sez to ‘im, “Git up ‘n start runnin’.” ‘N he got the hell outta there.

Then they turns to me. They sez, “You was lyin’ to us. You sez there weren’t nobody else in the jungles.” I tol ‘em I didn’t know ‘bout that other guy. They was sayin’ how I was lyin’ to ‘em, ‘n started pushin’ me back ‘forth b’tween each other. Ev’ry time one of ‘em pushed me, I’d fall into the other one, ‘n they’d say, “Hey, yer assaultin’ an officer.” Then one of ‘em started to kick me in the legs. He was kickin’ me, tryin’ to make me fight ‘im so’s he could have a reason to lay into me good. I wasn’t fightin’ back, so he maced me in the eyes. I was blinded ‘n my eyes started stingin’ ‘n I felt this thud on my chest. He hit me hard, ‘n I went over backwards. I was tryin’ to git to my feet. I was bent over ‘n rubbin’ my eyes ‘n they started whippin’ me with a willa switch. Whippin’ me like crazy, ‘n I couldn’t see nothin’. I was all blinded.

They stood me up straight ‘n one put a knife against my stomach, ‘n the other one, he cocked his gun ‘n pointed it at my toes. The one with the knife sez, “You shouldn’t a lied to us.” ‘N he grabbed a han’ful a my beard ‘n cut it off below my chin. Cut a big hunk out of it with his knife n’ told me to keep movin’. They chased me outta the jungle, ‘n I had to leave my bedroll ‘n stuff b’hind.

I caught the first thing smokin’ ‘n landed in Portola. I was jungled by the river ‘n sleepin’ under a piece a cardboard ‘n Hippie John came by ‘n seen how beat up I was. I told ‘im ‘bout them cops. He seen I didn’t have a bedroll er nothin’, so he sez to watch his gear ‘n he’d be right back. Little while later he come walkin’ into the jungle with an extra sleepin’ bag. He gimme the bag ‘thout barely a word. He sez, “It gits col’ in these mountains at night,” ‘n han’s the bag over to me. It was one he had stashed somewhere’s ‘cross the river.  Damn good bag too.

83.