Better Than Men

by Rush C. Hawkins

Tim, weary with anxious watching, seeing his opportunity for an investigation, cautiously descended to the ground, and noiselessly approached near enough to his guest to reach him with a front paw; then, for several minutes, he sat upon his haunches and made a very careful diagnosis of the case before him and came to the conclusion that it was not to his liking, and that he would have no more of it than he could help. Acting upon this deliberately formed conclusion, he made a vicious grab with both paws at the tail of the unsuspecting Saurian. Great was his surprise to find that his victim was very wide awake, indeed, for no sooner had he felt the disturbance at his caudal end than he sent his open jaws around to ascertain the cause. This sudden flank movement was a great surprise to Tim, who experienced considerable difficulty in extracting one of his paws from the ample jaws of a “feller” that at least one bear could not understand. Tim was not encouraged to another investigation at the moment, but re-ascended to his throne, where he spent the remainder of the day in licking the wounded paw, casting, now and then, malicious glances at his unbidden guest, and concocting plans for the future.

The next day was bright and sunny, and brought with it apparent peace to the domain of Tim. The Saurian was calmly reposing in the sunshine, and Tim was doing his best thinking. He had not quite decided as to the manner of proceeding, but upon one point he had made up his mind. There was to be no middle way. His enemy was to be conquered and the savage attack upon his paw avenged. With his mind then fully made up he descended for a second investigation and another possible attack. This time his approach was doubly guarded, and he was particularly careful in calculating the distance between his position and the jaws which had given him such an unpleasant surprise.

After a deliberate survey of the situation, Tim made a sudden spring to the side of his enemy, caught him under his chest, and turned him upon his back. This side attack was unexpected and a perfect success, and the reptile had an active and prolonged struggle to regain his natural position. Tim watched the struggle with intense interest, seeming to be happy in knowing that he held the key to the situation. From that time on, his guest during the daylight hours had no peace. Whenever Tim had an opportunity, he turned him over, and, when not engaged in that diversion, he was chasing him around the enclosure. About one month of such an existence brought the Saurian very near to his end. From a most healthy and vigorous “’gater” at the time he was caught he had become weak, weary and lank; so forlorn was his lamentable condition that he excited the sympathy of some human friend, who, during the night, opened the gate to the pen. The following morning the persecuted reptile was nowhere to be found. From that moment Tim became his former self, watched anxiously at the gate for the coming of friends, and pleaded pertinaciously for the intoxicating beverage.

The summer and greater part of the autumn after the “’gater” incident, I spent at the Mississippi Springs, and, while there, received a letter from a friend, who, next to myself, was the most ardent admirer Tim ever had. It was the last word relating to my comical four-footed intimate, and I cannot close this truthful narration more appropriately than by quoting from it:

“You will sympathize with me in our mutual loss. Probably, we have seen the last of our old friend Tim; he departed from his well scratched pole about two weeks ago, and is now on the road as an important item in ‘The Most Colossal Show Ever Known.’ He had grown so large, and his appetite for strong drink had increased to such an alarming extent, that the attending darkies lost confidence in their ability to handle him. During his later days at the Lake, he appeared to have but one idea, and that related to opportunities for intoxication. Whenever his pen door opened, no matter for what purpose, he would make a rush for whoever came in, and demand to be led to the bar-room, and, if disappointed, would make a most furious demonstration.

“‘Captain Dan’ was immensely attached to him, but felt that the time had arrived when some disposition must be made of him. The menagerie at Algiers was the opportunity. A bargain was struck, and the time fixed for his departure.

“‘Captain Dan’ decided to give him a regular ‘Fourth of July’ send-off, and, to that end, invited a few of his most intimate friends and admirers to be present at the performance. The guests were assembled, and Tim was released from his pole. He made a tremendous rush for the open bar-room door dragging two stalwart Africans after him at a break-neck pace. He went direct to his old corner where he found a large tin pan filled with a milk-punch such as he had never tasted before. He emptied it in short order and then, taking it between his paws, sat up, licked the last reminiscence of the punch out of it, and in a few moments became the most comical object imaginable. In fact he was never known to be more funny. He was laughed at, poked with sticks, had his ears pulled, but all to no purpose; he was too happy to be offended. He made a few efforts to stand erect and to appear sober and dignified, but ended each attempt by rolling over upon his back a helpless lump of limp intoxication.

“In that condition, our old friend was bundled into a box on wheels, and made ready for his departure to the new life. Before going we all shook him by the paw, patted his head, and wished him a happy future, and, as he disappeared in the distance, there was a general expression of regret that we had seen the last of poor Tim. ‘Captain Dan’s’ lip trembled, and I feel sure if he had had it to do over again, he wouldn’t have done it.”

This parting with Tim proved to be the end of his connection with the friends of his babyhood and youth: none of them so far as I know, ever saw him again.

Possibly a little bit of a lesson may be shown from the simple life described. Tim, no doubt, came of decent parents of good habits and morals, and in his downfall, there was no question of heredity involved. In his infancy he was placed within easy reach of the temptations of the bowl, and so, in his manhood, became as much of a victim to strong drink as his surrounding circumstances would permit. Therefore, the inference is, if he had not been tempted, there would have been no fall, and Tim would have led a sober life and have been a respectable member of bear society, provided human beings had left him in the home intended for his race.