Knowing nothing about gold or prospecting, he placed himself in the hands of a Texan who owned a general store that was famous for outfitting the most successful prospectors.
The Texan bellowed, "Pull yer wagon up front, hoss. My boys will set you up with evah-thang you need."
As the kid from Chicago stood by, the Texan hollered out to his men what supplies to load, "2 picks! 4 shovels! 100 pounds of cornmeal! 100 pounds of flour! 60 pounds of fatback!" He was impressed as his wagon slowly sagged beneath the weight of gear and supplies.
However, when the Texan began to call for ground chuck, onions, peppers, garlic, comino, tomatoes and such ...the city boy started to complain that the Texan was padding his bill.
The Texan turned to the boy and said, "Hoss, you just gonna have to trust me. I have outfitted the best and for every possible contingency."
"But what do I need expensive shit like garlic, comino, and tomatoes for?" the kid protested.
The Texan leaned in close and spoke in a serious tone of voice, "Hoss, let me tell ya, you´re gonna be up in them hills for a long time ...and alone for a long time.
"After a while, you´re gonna crave the sound of another human voice SO BAD ...that it could drive you plumb insane.
"So, when that moment comes ...and believe me it will ...I want you to grab that cast-iron pot, and throw that beef and onions and peppers and garlic and comino and tomatoes in... AND START MAKIN' SOME CHILI."
"For God´s sake, why?" the young man asked.
The Texan winked and said, "Because as soon as you start makin' chili, some sumbitch is gonna jump out from behind the nearest tree and yell, "THAT AIN'T NO WAY TO MAKE NO CHILI!!!"
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