Two cowboys come upon an Indian lying on his stomach with his ear to the ground.
One of the cowboys stops and says to the other, "You see that Indian?"
"Yeah," says the other cowboy.
"Look," says the first one, "he's listening to the ground. He can hear things for miles in any direction."
Just then the Indian looks up.
"Covered wagon," he says, "about two miles away. Have two horses, one brown, one white. Man, woman, child, household effects in wagon."
"Incredible!" says the cowboy to his friend. "This Indian knows how far away they are, how many horses, what colour they are, who is in the wagon, and what is in the wagon. Amazing!"
The Indian looks up and says, "Ran over me about a half hour ago."
The big-game hunter walked into the bar and bragged to everyone about his skills as a hunter.
The man was undoubtedly a good shot and no one could dispute that.
But then he said that he could recognize any animal’s skin by feeling it, and he could tell what caliber rifle was used to shoot it by locating the bullet hole.
This was a bit too much for the other customers, and soon a heated argument started.
The hunter said that he was willing to prove it if they would put up the drinks, and the BET was on.
They blindfolded him and took him to his first animal skin.
After feeling it for a few moments, he announced, “Springbok.”
Then he felt for the bullet hole and declared, “And it was shot with a 22 rifle.”
He was right!
The others could not believe it and the argument was even hotter than before.
When someone suggested that he must have peeped, he said that he was prepared to do it again for another round.
So they blindfolded him again, very thoroughly this time, and they brought a skin that someone happened to have in the trunk of his car.
He took a bit longer this time and then said, “Kalahari Lion.”
Fingering the bullet hole, he added, “The rifle was a 308.”
He was right again!
This only made the crowd more curious, and he had to prove his skills over and over again, every time winning a round of drinks.
Finally he staggered home, bombed out of his mind, and went to sleep.
The next morning he got up and saw in the mirror that he had one hеll of a shiner.
So he said to his wife, “Listen, I know I was drunк last night, but not too drunк to know that I didn’t get into a fight. So where did I get this black eye?”
His wife replied angrily, “From me!”
“What did I do?” he asked.
She replied, “You got into bed and put your hand inside my раnтiеs. Then you fiddled around a bit and announced, ‘Skunk, killed with an ax!’”