University of Virginia Library

11. CHAPTER XI.

New-York!—London of America—vast depot of the
agricultural riches of the West, and the proud haven into
whose open and welcoming bosom the winged canvass, laden
with merchandize, comes drifting from every clime before
the four winds of heaven! City of fashions!—whose
hundred sacred spires rise over congregations there weekly
assembled, punctual to the dictate of this fickle goddess,
who is even there presiding mistress of the ceremonies!
Congregations whose devotions would be disturbed by the

appearance of one coat out of date—whose feelings would
be shocked by the sight of one ribbon too much or too little
in a dress, and whose sensibilities would be thrown into
agony by the daring intrusion of one unfashionable bonnet!
City of puffs and exaggeration! where there is no medium—where
every thing
Where literature, if fashionable, is celestial—if not, damnable.—Where
an author becomes at once a Magnus Apollo,
or a dunce.—Where every thing is cried up to the
clouds, or hissed into infamy.—Where every performance
or exhibition, of whatever kind or character, is all the go,
the rage, the roar; and the exhibitors or performers are
received with shouts of applause, clapped, encored, honored,
worshipped; or spurned, hissed, spit at, and mobbed
from the city.—Where every thing, in short, goes by steam
on the high pressure principle.—Where every thing is
done in a fury, a whirlwind; and where those who would succeed
must raise the wind to the same pitch and power of
the surrounding tempest, and ride fearlessly on the gale;
for if they fall short of this, or pause one moment to resist
the current, they are overthrown and trod and trampled
under foot by the rolling mass of life, and lost forever!

Jenks had several times before been in this city, and
having noticed the peculiarities of the place, and learned
how things were done there, and concluding withal that
whatever was done, “it were better if it were done quickly,”
now shaped his course accordingly. Near the centre
of the city stood a livery stable with a capacious yard which
the owner, whom I shall call Stockton, had been accustomed
to let to the keepers of caravans for the exhibition
of their animals. This Stockton being a masonic acquaintance
of Jenks, the latter, on arriving at the city, immediately
drove to his stand, and as his yard was then luckily
unoccupied, found excellent accommodations for the intended
exhibition of Boaz. Having for a reasonable sum
obtained these accommodations, and seen Boaz safely

locked up in the high enclosure which constituted the exhibition
room, Jenks immediately went in search of a
painter to take a full sized portrait of his Bruinship to display
for a sign, while Timothy was despatched to a printing-office
to get a hundred or two of handbills struck off
describing Boaz as the new and wonderful animal lately
caught in a cave among the Green-Mountains, and setting
forth the time, place and terms of his exhibition. The
painter with his implements, and a large piece of canvass,
was soon on the ground, and after wondering awhile over
this strange subject for his pencil, diligently proceeded to
the task of taking his likeness. While these things were
doing, Jenks and Timothy took the opportunity of dressing
before they made their appearance before the public, and
of taking their dinner. After which, at the suggestion of
their friend, Stockton, they employed an old ex-officio crier,
remarkable for the power of his lungs, and the aptitude
of his hyperboles,to distribute their handbills and cry up
Boaz in such manner as he thought best calculated to catch
the attention of the multitude.

By three o'clock in the afternoon, every thing was prepared
for this wonderful exhibition. The painter had completed
his task, having given a rough, but striking picture
of Boaz standing on the limb of a tree, about to spring upon
a deer that was making his appearance in the bushes
below; and the handbills having come, `Thundering Tom,'
as their new crier was called, had already begun his work
of distributing them, making the very pavements tremble
as he passed along the streets, crying with stentorian voice
the exhibition of the “new! strange!! wonderful!!! and
unknown animal!!!! caught in the Green-Mountains!!!!!”

“Now Brother Tim,” said Jenks, “it is neck or nothing
with us. It will be no half-way business here. Our pockets
will be filled with cash before to-morrow night, or our
backs will be tarred and feathered, just according as how
the thing takes; but we must act our part well or all is
lost to a certainty. I have done the contriving, and you
must do the talking, Tim: You have learning, and can philosophize

and explain to the visitors. But mind you, Tim,
if you get up any wonderful stories about Boaz, be careful
not to cross yourself by telling different ones, especially
till a new set of visitors come in, and you are sure that all
those who heard your first story are gone. And above all,
Tim, be very careful that you don't let the cat out of the
bag.”

After these hasty injunctions, Jenks, with a heart palpitating
with the mingled emotions of hope and fear, went
out and took his station at the door. It was obvious that
public curiosity had been awakened, and that the wind was
now fairly raised. A crowd was already collected round
the door, gazing at the picture, and listening to the marvellous
stories that Thundering Tom, who having gone the
rounds in distributing the handbills and returned, was now
administering to them by wholesale. As soon as Jenks
made his appearance, they became clamorous for admission—when
he nothing loath, though trembling at the uncertainty
of the result, threw open the door, and, as fast as
he could pocket the half dollars, (fifty cents being the terms
of admission) let in the eager multitude. This was a moment
of intense anxiety to our travellers, wholly uncertain
as they were, what impressions would be produced by the
first sight of Boaz—whether he would maintain his assumed
character, or whether detection and its supposed consequence,
a mobbing, would immediately ensue. They
were soon relieved, however, from all apprehensions of any
trouble at present, by the concurrent voice of the visitors,
who after carefully examining the monster round from head
to tail, all broke out in exclamations of wonder and admiration
at the appearance of this singular animal, and declared
themselves highly gratified with the sight. Timothy
now believing it was time for him to take a part in the
scene, proceeded to relate to the gaping crowd the manner
of taking the animal, which he said was effected by a
steel-trap that he and his companion had set near a small
lake surrounded by woods and mountains, where they had
observed the creature's tracks, which they took for those

of a catamount. And on going to the trap the next day,
they found it was gone, and the stone to which it was chained,
weighing about five hundred pounds, had been dragged
off with it. Following the track which was plainly marked
by the trap and stone, they pursued on, and soon came
to a young deer with his throat torn open, lying dead beside
the way; and knowing that the animal must have
caught this deer before he got into the trap, and carried it
so far where he had dropped it owing to his failing condition,
they followed on now certain of soon overtaking him.
After going about half a mile, they found he had gone into
a dark and frightful cavern in the side of a steep mountain.
They then raised a band of hunters, and went in with torches,
and after incredible difficulty and danger, they succeeded,
with ropes, in taking the monster alive, and tying and
muzzling him so securely that they got him home; and after
taming him as much as his ferocious nature would admit
of, they had now brought him to the city to let the people
see him and find out from the learned men what animal
he was.

This account still increased the general wonder, and the
ferocious character which Timothy had given to Boaz was
now confirmed by his present appearance; for owing to
the soreness produced by the shaving, and the jolting of his
rapid ride immediately after, he was unusually cross and
snappish, and kept in one continual snarl as the visitors
punched him with their canes through the railing within
which he was chained.

Various were the conjectures as to what kind of animal
he could be; and many the sage remarks that were uttered
on the occasion. One thought he must be some relation
to the elephant—a kind of Tom Thumb elephant, he
said, since he knew of no animal of the four-footed kind
but what had hair except the elephant and this monster;
and asked if there were not a small kind of elephants somewhere
in a country called Lilliputia, where, as he had read
in some history, all the animals were excessively diminutive:
Another said he had been to see all the caravans

that ever came into the city for twenty years, and he had
seen all the animals in the world, he believed, except the
unicorn, which he never could happen to come across, and
according to the idea he had formed of that animal, he
thought it must be very like this monster, and he rather
expected the same thing: And yet another, a spruce and
intelligent clerk from Broadway, observed, that he was
perfectly satisfied what the creature was—it was one of
that class of animals called non-descripts, found in great
numbers in Siberia and other parts of the torrid zone: he
had often heard Doctor Mitchel, in his lectures, speak of
the animal; though he did not know before that any of this
class were ever found in America; but he was not at all
surprised that they should be discovered in such a cold,
rough and desolate wilderness as the Green-Mountains.

These and a thousand other observations of the kind
were made by this, and each succeeding set of visitors that
were continually coming and going in great numbers for
the whole of the afternoon and evening—during all of
which, Boaz maintained his character of an unknown animal
unimpeached; and notwithstanding the most rigid
scrutiny and learned inspection, which he was constantly
undergoing, all except the learned Broadway clerk, gave
up that they had never seen or heard of the like of him before,
and that he was truly an unknown animal, and a great
curiosity.

Thus went matters gloriously on for our travellers till
nine o'clock in the evening, when, although the crowd
seemed rather to increase than diminish, they were forced
to close the exhibition and shut up for the night. As soon
as they were alone and all still without, they fell to rejoicing
over their good fortune, and counting their money,
which to their agreeable surprise amounted, from the receipts
of the exhibition alone, to something over three
hundred dollars. Jenks' eyes glistened like stars in a frosty
night: and Timothy snapped his fingers and capered
about the room like a mad-man, uttering a thousand extravagancies.
Concluding to sleep on blankets in an apartment

in the building adjoining the exhibition room, and
communicating with it, that they might better see to the
safety of Boaz, it was arranged that Timothy should now
go to some neighboring victualling-cellar for some provisions
for their supper, while Jenks went to one or two printing-offices
to get a notice of to-morrow's exhibition inserted
in the morning papers. This business finished, and the
parties having returned, they now sat down to their meal
spread on the lid of their travelling-chest, and recounted,
with great glee, the many little incidents that had fallen
under the observation of each during the hours of exhibition.
“But Timothy,” said Jenks, after they had indulged
a while in dwelling on the scenes of the afternoon, “Timothy,
I fear me that this run of luck can't last long: This
afternoon and evening we have had scarcely any to see Boaz,
as I observed, but the more ignorant class; and although
many of them were dressed so neat, they were mostly
lounging dandies, and merchants' clerks, that havn't three
ideas above a jackass, except it is about the business behind
their counters. But to-morrow, as this thing gets
more noised through the city, we may expect more knowing
company. And when those prying lawyers, and doctors
with their glasses, come examining and squinting about
Boaz, then we may look out for breakers. And at the best,
I have little hope of keeping up the farce beyond to-morrow
night, as the hair on his back will begin to start so as
to be seen by the next day at farthest; and I don't suppose
that he would let us shave him again, as he is so sore and
cross with the effect of the last operation. Now I have
been thinking that we had better be prepared for the worst;
so if a blow-up should happen, we shall have nothing to
do to prevent our leaving the city at a moment's warning.
I think we had better sell our horse and waggon if we can
do it to advantage; for if any thing should happen, we can
get away better without our team than with it; and if there
should not, we can never do better with Cyclops than here;
besides, if we sell out and go home by water, we shan't
have to pass through that blackguard village where they
made such a fuss about that bill. And as to Boaz, we can
leave him with Stockton to sell for us.”

Timothy agreeing to these propositions, it was decided
that Jenks should go out next morning before the hour arrived
for opening the door to visitors, and taking Thundering
Tom along to assist him, should try to find a sale for
the team. This being settled, they began to prepare for
sleep. The cautious Jenks, however, did not lay down till
he had searched round the yard and building and found a
window through which they might retreat into a back alley
and get off, in case a mob should attack them. After
this, they wrapped their blankets round them, and laying
down on the floor, with their coats for pillows, were soon
lost in slumber.

Bright and early the next morning our travellers aroused
themselves from their golden dreams, and harnessing up
old Cyclops, and going out and getting Thundering Tom,
the latter and Jenks drove towards the lower part of the
city to find a sale for the establishment, leaving Timothy
to feed Boaz and prepare for the coming exhibition. As
luck would have it, while on their way they came across a
man whose horse had just taken fright, and, running against
a stone post at the corner of the street, had dashed the
waggon to which he was harnessed into a thousand pieces,
and broke and torn the harness so as to render it wholly
useless for the present purposes of the owner, who now
stood over the ruins, lamenting his misfortune, which was
the greater he said as he was compelled to return immediately
into the country with a small load, while he had not
enough money to pay for a new harness and waggon, and he
did not suppose he could get any other without considerable
delay. Jenks having halted and heard the man tell
this story, at once offered to sell his own waggon and harness
on the most reasonable terms; and as the man was as
eager to buy as Jenks to sell, a bargain was soon concluded
to the satisfaction of all parties. It now only remaining
to dispose of old Cyclops, Jenks then proceeded onward,
leading him with a halter, while Thundering Tom

took a parallel street for the purpose of inquiring out a
purchaser. In a short time, however, the latter came puffing
along after Jenks, and overtaking him told him he had
just learned that the master of the Jersey horse-boat wanted
to purchase a horse, and he had no doubt but old Cyclops
would suit, as eyes or no eyes it was all the same for
that business, provided the horse was stout enough. “But,”
said he, “I think you had better leave the management of
parleying with the old fellow to me: I know him well, and
what is better he don't know me,—a free, bold speech, and
a price that will do to fall upon, is all that is wanting for
your success.”

With quickened pace they then took their route to the
ferry. They no sooner had arrived at the landing than
they called out for the master of the boat, which had not yet
commenced its trips for the day. Presently an old thick-set,
rough-looking fellow came swaggering along towards the
stern of the boat, and demanded what they wanted.

“A horse to sell, your honor—just from the country—
dog cheap!” replied Thundering Tom.

`What are his points and bottom?' asked the master.

“He will trot you,” said the other, “he will trot you, Sir,
to the New Jerusalem in three hours!”

`But I want one,' said the master, `that will trot slow—
not fast.'

“Well then,” replied Tom, “my horse will trot as slow
as common horses will stand still!”

`You are a musical fellow,' said the master—`I will
come out there and look at your horse—Sound?'

“As a roach,” replied Tom, “except an eye that he let
a catamomount have one day to pay him for a broken
skull.”

`You lie like the devil,' said the other—`nevertheless,
I like your horse: What is your price?'

“One hundred dollars,” replied Tom.

`Hundred satans!' exclaimed the master: `however, put
that red-headed woodpecker of yours on to him,' he continued,
pointing to Jenks, whom he evidently took for a

servant of Tom's, `and let us see him move. I will give
seventy-five if I like him as well as I think I shall.'

Jenks now biting his lip in silent vexation at this taunt
on his personal appearance, mounted old Cyclops, and rode
back and forth some time,—after which, and considerable
bantering, the bargain was struck at seventy-five dollars,
when Jenks and Thundering Tom returned to their lodgings,
chuckling at the thought of their good bargain; for
the former had instructed the latter to take fifty dollars if
he could get no more. Jenks now giving his companion
ten dollars for the great assistance he had rendered him in
this sale, and in getting Boaz into notice, now dismissed
him, and returned to Stockton's to tell Timothy of his unexpected
luck in disposing of their establishment so well
and so quickly.

At nine o'clock, Boaz having been well fed, and then
switched into a suitable degree of soreness and ferocity,
and Timothy instructed to keep a bright look-out for squalls,
Jenks took his post and opened the exhibition. The morning
papers had been distributed over the city, and given
notice of the exhibition to the more domestic and retired
citizens. And this, with the floating rumors that they had
heard the evening before from the rabble in the streets concerning
the strange animal for show at Stockton's, so inflamed
their curiosity, that they soon came flocking to see
him. Among these, a band of that class which is called
the cream of society, being made up of the wealthy, and
those at the same time distinguished by family, having
made their appearance with their wives and daughters, one
of them, after examining the animal a few minutes, asked
Timothy if Dr. Mitchel had been to see the monster. And
being answered in the negative, he, with several others,
proposed going after the Doctor immediately, as he could
at once settle the question whether the creature was an
unknown animal or not. So saying, two of the gentlemen
went off in quest of the great walking library of New-York,
leaving their daughters to remain till they returned. The
latter, freed from the restraint which they felt in the presence

of their fathers, soon manifested a disposition to make
the most of their liberty, and began to quiz and question
our hero, whose good looks and ruddy cheeks seemed to
attract their notice. One asked him whether his sweetheart
did not cry when he came away—another whether
the girls in the Green-Mountains rode side-ways when they
rode horseback; and whether they worked in the field
with the men ploughing and reaping: And a third asked
him whether they had meeting-houses and state-houses in
Vermont. To all these questions Timothy made gallant
answers, lugging in some compliment on every occasion.
One of these fashionables of the cream at length seeing an
opportunity when the rest had moved off to one side of the
apartment to listen to some discussion going on there, approached
close to our hero, and asked him in a half whisper
if he should know her in the dark. “Only by that
breath of Arabian perfumery,” he replied. `O you rogue,
you must not know me by any thing; so you wont find me
to-night at Mrs. — assignation house, — street,
No. —, precisely at 8 o'clock,' said she, tipping him a
wink, as she twirled off talking loudly about the strange
animal. In a few minutes more another made a kind of
circuit round the room, and passing near him, dropped a
small piece of paper into his hand, and scarcely had he put
away the first before another billet was dropped at his feet
as a gay lass brushed by him, saying she was going to peep
out the door to see if papa was coming. Timothy was rather
at a loss what to make of all this; and he took the first
opportunity to inspect the billets; and on reading them, he
found to his surprise that that they both named places and
a time of meeting him. “What can this mean?” thought
he—“a second act of the play of that Dutch trollop on the
road? or have I at length got among ladies that are capable
of appreciating my character?” Every thing, as he looked
round on the rich and fashionable dresses of these ladies,
conspired to tell him that the latter must be the case,
and he pulled up his cravat and stepped about with an air
of manly dignity which showed that he considered justice
was done him. While Timothy was absorbed in these
pleasing reflections, the citizens returned in company with
the Magnus Apollo of the city. Jenks, who had over-heard
enough to learn that some one had now come who
was a great critic about animals, felt rather uneasy when
the Doctor went in, and even Timothy was not altogether
without apprehensions when he saw the learned man scrutinize
Boaz so closely. Taking out paper and pencil, the
Doctor proceeded to make minutes—speaking or humming
over to himself as he wrote, “Strange animal—caught
among the Green-Mountains.....Appearance—entire destitution
of the capillary characteristic, short, thick and swinish.....Habits—cynic
and irascible.....Food—`what does
he eat, Sir?' said the Doctor, looking up at Timothy—
`Flesh and fruit,' replied the latter, somewhat overawed by
the presence of the great man—`He was caught when he
had just killed a deer, and we have fed him on apples and
such kind of viands'—“Apples, viands! ”hastily interrupted
the other—“The carneous and pomaceous are distinct
and disconnected; but ah! I understand now—it was the
deer that you meant by the appellative of viand; but to the
animal—wonderful! carniverous and pomiverous,” &c. &c.
He then examined Boaz over, and asked Timothy a thousand
questions about him—after which, he recapitulated
his notes, and pronouncing the animal a non-descript in
natural history, he gave his cane a twirl, and saying “I
will drop a line to my friend of the Journal at Albany concerning
this valuable discovery,” bowed gracefully to the
company and departed.

No sooner was the decision of the great oracle of the
city promulgated, than hundreds came crowding to see the
non-descript, as he was now termed. Among the rest the
Broadway clerk came in to boast of his sagacity in discovering
the name of the animal even before the Doctor had
seen him. Nearly all day nothing was heard or talked of
in the city but the non-descript at Stockton's. The street
leading to the place of exhibition was thronged by one continual
stream of visitors, eager to get a sight of the lion of

the day. Timothy and Jenks pocketed the money in handfuls,
and began to think they were made forever. But alas!
who can count on the continuance of the favors of the
changeful goddess of fortune! Our travellers were now
doomed to experience in common with all others the effects
of her fickleness and caprice. Towards night, while
yet reaping the golden harvest, and now lulled into security
by their unexpected and unparalleled success, all their
prospects were ruined in a moment by the sagacity of a
New-England drover, who, having been a hunter in early
life, and now being in the city and hearing of the wonderful
animal, had stepped in to see what it was. After this
man had leisurely surveyed Boaz awhile, he all at once
started up and exclaimed, “a shaved bear, as I live!” The
words no sooner struck the ear of Timothy, who happened
to be standing near, than he sprang before the man, and
made a masonic sign—the drover luckily was a Mason, and
returned the sign. Timothy then very appropriately made
the sign of the Secret Monitor's degree: This was also understood
and heeded; for the man curling his lip with a
suppressed smile, left the room in silence. Timothy immediately
stepped to the door where Jenks was still keeping
his post, and taking him aside informed him of the occurrence,
and its fortunate termination through the instrumentality
of their beloved institution.

“O blessed masonry!” exclaimed Jenks.

`Yea, blessed—thrice blessed and celestially glorious!'
responded Timothy—`without this sanctified salvation of
savoring salubrity, we should have been twice disembogued
since we left the land of our depravity; but we have triumphed
over all, and are now safe.'

“Be not too confident of that, Brother Timothy,” said
the other—“are you sure that no one of the visitors heard
this man's exclamation of shaved bear?”

`I declare!' replied Timothy, dropping the elegant, for
the more common mode of expression, as he was wont to
do on most business-like occasions—`I declare, I never
thought to see to that.'

“Go in immediately then,” said Jenks, with much trepidation—“see
if you can discover any symptoms among
them that look like trouble— any winks and whispering.
Tim, I am afraid we are ruined after all! I am glad it is
almost night. O, if we can get through this day!” he continued,
letting his voice fall into a low ejaculating kind of
soliloquy, as Timothy hastily left him for the exhibition
room—“If we can outlive this day, they shall never catch
me in this hornets' nest again till the day of pentecost.”

On Timothy's return to the show-room, he soon perceived
enough to convince him that Jenks' fears and apprehensions
were not altogether groundless. A midshipman,
it seems, had overheard part of the drover's exclamation,
and, having closely inspected Boaz with his quizzing glass
during Timothy's absence from the room, and discovered
the hairs just beginning to start through the skin, came to
the same conclusion that the creature could be nothing but
a common bear with his hair shaved off. And keeping the
discovery from the public for the purpose of reserving the
frolic of punishing the hoax to himself and his companions,
he was now, as Timothy came into the room, whispering
with one of his fellows to whom he had just communicated
the secret, and conferring on the best mode of kicking up
a row on the occasion. The wicked looks of the two fellows
as they stood in one corner engaged in a close conversation,
occasionally glancing their eyes from Boaz to
Timothy, at once convinced the latter that they had mischief
in view which was intended for himself and Boaz;
and accordingly he kept a close watch of their movements.

After whispering awhile, these two fellows went out, and
Timothy began to hope he was mistaken as to their intentions.
But he was not long left to console himself with
such reflections; for they soon returned with two other
companions, when all, as if to remove all doubts as to the
identity of Boaz, fell to scrutinizing him anew with their
glasses. While they were thus engaged, Timothy's quick
ear caught parts of sentences, as one of the two who came
in last was whispering to the other—“D—n me for a lubber,

if Tom an't right—I've seen many a bear in cruising—
no mistake—let's get under weigh—no time to lose,” &c.
Soon after this they all four stole out of the room as slyly
as possible, and went off into the city.

Timothy lost no time in informing Jenks of all he had
seen. The latter on hearing this account, was at no loss
in coming to the conclusion that these fellows, whom he
had himself noticed with suspicion, had gone off to raise a
band of their companions for a mob. And he told Timothy
that their only chance now was to clear out all the visitors
as quick as possible, and lock up the exhibition-room.
This measure being concluded on, Timothy went in and
informed the company that they wished to close the exhibition
for a short time, and that those who wished to examine
the animal any further could have an opportunity in
the evening. But the company were slow in obeying the
order—some said they could not come again—others they
had paid their money and had a right to stay as long as
they pleased; and all seemed to think that no harm would
be done by a little delay. What was to be done? Any
appearance of impatience on the part of the keepers might
create suspicion. Jenks stood on thorns as he witnessed the
dilatory movements of the company dropping off one by one
at long intervals. He could have pulled them out by their
necks in the agony of his impatience to see them gone;
but he was afraid to manifest the least uneasiness. As no
new ones, however, were now admitted, the number of
those within gradually diminished; and finally, all but two
or three took their departure. Just at this time Jenks heard
a distant hum like that of an approaching multitude. He
instantly called Timothy and told him to clear the room
with the utmost despatch. It was some time however before
the latter succeeded in getting the two remaining visiters
started, as one was telling a story in which he did not
like to be interrupted till he had got through. Meanwhile
the clamor and noise appeared to be rapidly approaching;
and the yelping of dogs could be distinguished among the
other sounds that now began to swell loudly on the breeze.

Jenks could stand it no longer, and was about rushing into
the exhibition-room to drive the remaining loiterers out by
force, when he met them coming out. No sooner had the
feet of the hindmost of these passed out of the reach of
the door, than, swinging it to as if he considered life or
death depended on the act, he hastily locked it, not however
till he had caught a glimpse of the enemy in full force
rushing into the yard. In a moment they were at the door
thundering for admittance. Our travellers paused an instant
to listen to the exclamations of the besieging multitude.
“Is the tar and feathers come, Jack?” said one voice.
“Send off for more dogs,” said another. “Bring along the
rail,” cried a third. “Beat down the door—what's the use
in puttering?” exclaimed a fourth.

Timothy and Jenks waited no longer, but hastily tying
up the contents of their chest in their pocket-handkerchiefs,
they began their retreat through the window in the rear,
which, as we have before mentioned, the prudence of Jenks,
had provided as a retreat from danger. They had scarcely
let themselves down on the other side before the door of
the exhibition room flew from its hinges before the bars
and axes of the assailants, who now rushed tumultuously
into the room. “Damn my eyes, Tom, the knaves have
escaped!—but here is the bear,” exclaimed one. “Let
him loose! turn him into the street! call up the dogs!”
said several. “Look in that back room,” cried the first —
“the fellows can't be far off, for I saw one of the damned
rascals just retreating into the door as we hove in sight.”
Such were the consoling sounds that fell on the ears of
our travellers as they were making their way with all convenient
speed over fences, through back yards, gates, &c.
into a dark alley that led out to a street on the opposite
side of the square—still pursuing their way with hot
haste they paused not til they had got two squares between
them and the scene of action. Here, just as they came
out into a long street, their ears were saluted by the mingled
din of the voices of dogs and men, and looking in
the direction of the clamor, they saw Boaz crossing the

street but one square from them upon the keen skip with
a troop of dogs of all sorts and sizes at his heels, filling
the air with the discordant cries of pup, cur, bull and mastiff,
commingling with the shouts of the mob pushing on
hard behind them. All at once Boaz made a halt in the
middle of the street and turned with terrible fury on his
four-footed pursuers. Immediately the last dying yelp of
some luckless cur sent up quivering in the air by the teeth
of the enraged Bear, the bass groan of the bull dog coming
within reach of his loving embrace, and the death
screech of others, announced to his old masters that their
ursine companion was not idle. While Jenks and Timothy
stood witnessing with exultation the gallant exploits of
Boaz, the whole pack of dogs, as their masters came up
and encouraged them by their presence, sprang at once
upon the poor animal. A tremendous struggle now ensued,
and many a dog paid for his temerity by the forfeit of
his life before their dread antagonist yielded up his breath
and fell beneath the overpowering numbers of his foes.

“There is the last of poor Boaz!” said Jenks with a
sigh; “but he has died like a hero!”

In ten minutes from this time our travellers were on
board a sloop which they fortunately found at the wharf
getting under weigh for Albany. The breeze sprang up,
and with the fading twilight the sight and sounds of the
receding city slowly melted in darkness and silence.