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Updated: June 27, 2025
In describing Samson, a famous specimen once on exhibition in San Francisco, we are told that "his strength was that of an elephant, and his claws, eight inches in length, curved like a rainbow and sharp as a knife, would enable him to tear open anything made of flesh and blood as you or I would open a banana." Such was the new acquaintance who confronted Mr. Onthank, and barred his progress.
A fortunate chance directed our hero by an almost straight course to the very tree where Ebenezer Onthank was still perched with the grizzly standing guard beneath. From time to time he looked about him anxiously, in the hope of seeing the approach of one of his travelling companions.
With a wild shout Ebenezer Onthank took to his heels and flew over the ground at a rate of speed which Weston, the champion runner, would scarcely be able to equal. The grizzly accepted the challenge, and increased his own speed, developing an activity hardly to be expected of his huge and unwieldy form. It was man against beast, with the odds decidedly in the favor of the latter.
"I won't," gasped Tom, "if I can help it." "Is he gaining on us?" "Yes," returned our hero. "Then I'll try another tree," said Onthank, and he caught a branch, and clambered up into a tree quite similar to the other in which he had been besieged.
"He will do no more harm," he said in good English, but with a foreign accent. "The danger is over." "Is the critter used up?" shouted Onthank, cautiously, from his elevated perch. "Is he defunct?" "He soon will be," answered Tom. "I guess it will be safe to come down." Ebenezer Onthank needed no second invitation.
He had been brought up on a farm, where, during a part of the year it was the custom for the "menfolks" to rise between four and five o'clock in the morning to begin the labors of the day. His old habit clung to him, and at five o'clock, when Tom and Ferguson were yet asleep, Mr. Onthank sprang from his leafy couch refreshed and vigorous.
Stubbs finished his disquisition upon names, there came in sight a small house, dark and discolored with age and neglect. He pointed this out to Paul with his whip-handle. "That," said he, "is where old Keziah Onthank lives. Ever heard of him?" Paul had not. "He's the oldest man in these parts," pursued his loquacious companion.
To die at his age would be sad enough; but the thought that his expedition would be a failure, only involving his father deeper in difficulty and debt chiefly troubled him. The mortgage would be foreclosed, and his father and whole family deprived of their humble home. Onthank watched the boy's peril, unable to give him assistance.
Startled as he was, Tom maintained his ground. He wanted to help Onthank; but he did not know how to do it. "What can I do to help you, Mr. Onthank?" shouted Tom. "Blamed if I know," answered the Yankee, helplessly. "I wish Ferguson were here. It won't do for you to attack the beast single-handed." "Shall I go back for Ferguson?" asked Tom. "I don't know; how far away is the camp?"
While he was considering whether he could do anything to help his friend, the bear slowly rose, approached the tree, and, grasping it between his paws, prepared to climb. He was evidently tired of waiting. "He's coming, Tom!" shouted Onthank. "O Lord, what shall I do?" Mr Onthank's reflections when the grizzly was slowly but steadily climbing the tree were by no means pleasant.
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