"
"All right! all right! any more dogs coming to fight my desert-born,
desert-bred onagra? Come on, the onagra is ready!"
But no one came forward; and the bear-leader shouted in vain in his
shrill tones--
"Gentlemen! ladies! are you all afraid? afraid of the onagra? The dogs of
your town ought to be ashamed of themselves. Come on! courage, gentlemen!
courage, ladies!"
But no one was inclined to risk his dog's life or limbs against so
dangerous an animal, and the cries for the bears were beginning again.
"The bears! the bears! bring out the bears!"
After waiting a quarter of an hour the fellow saw that his onagra was not
likely to get any more customers, so, putting the beast up in the stable,
he approached the pigsty, opened it, and drew out by his chain Baptiste,
the Savoy bear, an old brute with a brown mangy-looking coat, as sulky
and ashamed as a sweep coming down a chimney. For all he was not handsome
the shouts of applause rang out, and the fighting dogs themselves, shut
into the tavern porch, smelling a wild beast, set up a tragic howl that
made your hair stand on end. The miserable bear was led quietly enough to
a stake firmly driven in the ground, to which he was chained, all the
time slowly surveying the excited crowd with a melancholy eye.
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