His
tormentors would bring their Bear dogs "to try them on the cub." It
seemed to be very pleasant sport to men and dogs, till Jack learned
how to receive them. At first he used to rush furiously at the nearest
tormentor until brought up with a jerk at the end of his chain and
completely exposed to attack behind from another dog. A month or two
entirely changed his method. He learned to sit against the hogshead
and quietly watch the noisy dogs around him, with much show of
inattention, making no move, no matter how near they were, until they
"bunched," that is, gathered in one place. Then he charged. It was
inevitable that the hind dogs would be the last to jump, and so
hindered the front ones; thus Jack would "get" one or more of them,
and the game became unpopular.
When about eighteen months old, and half grown, an incident took place
which defied all explanation. Jack had won the name of being
dangerous, for he had crippled one man with a blow and nearly killed a
tipsy fool who volunteered to fight him. A harmless but
good-for-nothing sheep-herder who loafed about the place got very
drunk one night and offended some fire-eaters. They decided that, as
he had no gun, it would be the proper thing to club him to their
hearts' content instead of shooting him full of holes, in the manner
usually prescribed by their code. Faco Tampico made for the door and
staggered out into the darkness.
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