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A group of early settlers heading West got off the Oregon Trail and found themselves lost and running out of supplies. One evening, they camped near a stream, and as it became darker, they saw a campfire a little way up the hill on the same stream.
The next morning, they headed out to see who was there. They found a small cave and an old Rabi had made his home there. “We’re lost and hungry, can you help us?” He thought a moment, then said, “I have very little and can only share the water in this stream, and I know only that there’s a Bacon Tree about a mile West of here along the stream.” They couldn’t pack up and roll out fast enough, the thought of BACON filled their minds. As they went through a small narrow gorge, they were accosted by a band of Walla Walla Indians who were not happy to see them and would have robbed them if they had anything of value. Beaten up and nursing a few wounds, they got out, but the leader of the group went back to the old Rabi with several men, all of them angry. “You said there was a Bacon Tree, and all we found was an Ambush by angry Indians!” The Rabi thought a moment, adjusted his little round glasses, looked up and said. “Oy Vey! Ham Bush, Bacon Tree, who knew?”
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