The New York herald., 1922-08-06

A policeman took a crack at the
dogs with his pistol, but the dogs
were too fleet for him. The S. p. C.
A. said it was against the law to
shoot, poison, smoke out or other
wise maltreat the creatures. No one
! ever did enter that cave except one
little boy, who, rushing in where the
police and the S. p. c. A. failed to
tread. brought out two adorable col
lie pups.
There is q sheer drop of the hill
from Fort Tryon Hall to the Broad
way cave. too steep for man 20 climb
except at the point where steps have
been built. Butt it was the favorite
romping place of these dogs. have
seen six of them, led by a splendid
white fellow as rangy and big as a
calf, but much more graceful, bound
ing back and forth along an invisi-
BILE path on the precipice. Tender
hearted folk thought they We're try
ing to get down and couldn't and
telephoned the S. P. c. A., whose Off
GERS went UP the hill, and like the
King OF France, came down again.
Two years ago the tribe suddenly
changed its seat of government to
| the wooded land that falls abruptly,
| like a primeval forest set on end
| from Upper Bolton road to the ship
canal, as Spuyten Duyvil Inlet has
now become. Maybe the leaders
craved more room and greater retire.
ment Anyhow, thither they went and
/ in those fastnesses waxed great in
numbers. Mighty were the foraging
| parties they sent out, according to
the woman who lives in the house at
| the turn of Upper Bolton road-the
! house where Joseph Keppler. former
editor of Puck, lived thirty years ago.
Though she has several dogs of her
own. numerous children and a pig,
this woman has had heart for her
four footed Bolshevist neighbors
Night after night when winter came
she cooked a huge kettle of scrapple
and left it at the top of the hill. In
the morning the kettle would be
| licked to a polish.
II was sorry for the poor beasts"
this woman told me. land then l
hoped giving them the scrapple
would save me getting my henroosts
robbed 1t did sometimes. maybe.
Ny. they did fight over that scrap
pie! They'd keep us awake nights
with their snarling and yelping.
Mornings before it was light they'd
start out hunting. I'd see fifty of
them coming down the road lickety-
split. like this
She pedaled her hands with great
velocity. enacting the swift flight of
the dogs.
And they were terribly fierce"
she continued. "One evening / sent
my boy down to Dyckman street, to
market. and by and by we heard an
awful yell l opened the door. and
Jimmy tumbled in. and behind him l
saw an enormous dog, his jaws slav-
ering and his eyes like Goals of fire.
l shut the door, but for an hour he
prowled around The house. till L
threw him a bone from the soup pot.
and he took it and ran away"
Fifty dogs coming down upper
Bolton road seem a good many.
Maybe the dim light Of early morn
ing confused this woman's sight. I
have never seen more than six of the
tribe at one time. though F. Hodge
kins Silverthorne. an authentic citi-
zen living at 1876 Seaman avenue.
tells me he has beheld twenty OF
them fighting under his window at
midnight. 1t seems that. not con-
tent with the natural growth that
came with voluntary recruits. they
sent out an occasional impress gang
20 drag in domesticated dogs of the
neighborhood. On the night Mr..
Silverthorne describes Seaman
avenue collie was bold enough to de-
cline to accompany them. He bit
the chief wild dog. and the chief
wild dog lifted his head and emitted
a war cry.
Instantly. as it seemed. the street
was filled with CANNES. coming from
every quarter. Lean. lank. un-