s
nakes in a den, like bees in a hive, and she eats ’em alive. that’s what she does, ladies and gentlemen. she bites the head off, eats the body, and throws the tail away. and it costs you but ten cents, one dime, the tenth part of a dollar, to see bosko.”
it was just outside the main side-show connected with poole brothers’ royal roman hippodrome and three ring circus, and the big tent had not yet opened for the afternoon’s performance.
stetson, manager of the freaks and chief announcer for all the special shows, had just succeeded, by beating on a large iron triangle, in attracting a majority of the people standing about the grounds. behind him on a raised platform was a huge box-like pen which rose to about the height of a man’s shoulder.
gaudy placards and pictures adorning the upper part of this platform stated that within[92] could be seen bosko—the strangest freak ever born to live—a human snake-eater. one of the pictures represented a creature clothed principally in long black hair and a ferocious expression squatting at the entrance of a large cave. in one hand, or paw, was a decapitated giant rattlesnake which she was in the act of devouring.
“esau, that’s her first name; bosko, that’s her last name; and she eats live snakes,—rattlesnakes, copperheads, yellow backs, and gila monsters. that’s what she eats, that’s what she lives on,” shouted the manager.
the country people, anxious as ever to throw away the money so hardly wrung from their stubborn hill farms, crowded each other in their eagerness to be first on the platform. the box-like pen was about ten feet long by four feet wide, and soon between thirty and forty people had crowded about the rail, and were peering open-mouthed over the edge.
on the bottom of the pen was crouched a dark-skinned something lazily rolling its head from side to side. this something wore a brown canvas skirt which came to the knees, and a sort of loose coat or jacket over the shoulder. on her head, and hanging down over her eyes, was a long, black mane of hair, which but few of the yokels about recognized as a wig.
but crawling over this swarthy, thick-lipped creature were the things which caused the exclamations[93] on the part of the bystanders. over the body of bosko, under, beside and behind her, twined and wriggled dozen upon dozen of twisting, writhing snakes. they coiled and uncoiled over her black legs, running out their little forked tongues spitefully. the sun beat down fiercely overhead, and swarms of flies settled down on every part of the evil smelling pen.
stetson made way for himself at one end of the rail, and began a more detailed description. “before you, ladies and gentlemen, you see, as i just told you, the strangest freak ever born to live, bosko, esau bosko, the human snake eater. the medical fraternity declare that she is part snake, part woman. part snake because she has to kill her own food before she eats it. when first captured in australia, bosko was living in a cave like you see in the pictures outside, subsisting entirely on the most poisonous kinds of snakes. it is about the time she usually feeds, and if you watch carefully you may see how this strangest of all freaks obtains its food.”
as if taking its cue from the manager’s last remark, the thing in the pen ceased rolling its head, and began running about on all fours, making low guttural noises in its throat, and feeling first one then another of the reptiles.
suddenly it seized a small rattler, and taking it firmly in both hands just below the head gave a quick twisting movement. there was a sound of rending flesh and the head was flung to the[94] floor. then taking the remaining stump, bosko drew back the skin as if peeling a banana, and buried her teeth in the still quivering flesh.
most of the spectators turned away at this point and left the platform. several looked rather white and seemed not to feel particularly well. others, however, of a stronger constitution, or of lesser sensibilities, stayed on, anxious to see if the show was a “fake,” and if the mouthful would be spit out.
meanwhile stetson at the foot of the platform, was shouting, “go where they all go, see what they all see. bosko, the human snake eater, that’s what they’re all looking at. that’s what they’re all interested in. yellow backed rattlers, that’s what bosko is eating to-day.”
there was something so disgusting about the show, and since each man who saw the freak advised his neighbors not to do likewise, those same neighbors, being human, immediately purchased tickets, and the railing about the pen of bosko was lined with wide-eyed, fascinated spectators till the show in the main tent was over for the afternoon.
then murphy, one of the attendants, came to the pen and threw a cover over the top. almost instantly a small trap door in the bottom of the box opened, and bosko disappeared from the den of snakes. twenty minutes later a short, thickset negro of a remarkably unpleasant cast of features was walking unsteadily[95] about the grounds consuming cigarettes without number.
it cost the manager of the royal roman hippodrome one dollar and seventy cents a day in money, a few inexpensive snakes, and an unlimited amount of cheap whiskey to present to the gullible public bosko, the “strangest freak ever born to live.”
it had been put on by poole brothers as an experiment three months before, when the show split up at boston. the best part of the side show, including bobo, the wild man from borneo, herman the ossified boy, and the sacred white elephant, had followed the best part of the circus and gone through rhode island and connecticut, while the remainder was sent up through northern new england.
the side show was thus left a little short of first-class freaks. so stetson, with his customary ingenuity, had arranged for an entirely new sensation,—bosko, a human snake-eater,—and the attraction, which was only an experiment at first, was now one of the best drawing cards.
like all other good things in this world, however, it had its disadvantages. bosko had to be watched constantly. twice he had smuggled the little black bottle which was his constant companion, when not before the public, into the pen with him. fortunately, no one had seen him taking surreptitious pulls at it either time, but there was always the possibility.
[96]stetson had also been alarmed, during his preliminary harangue to the crowd one day, to see smoke issuing from the top of the pen, and, on looking in, found bosko stealthily puffing away on a cigarette. murphy was quickly dispatched to the little trap-door in the bottom of the cage, and the smoking immediately ceased.
to be sure, it took more and more whiskey every day to get bosko “keyed up” to that state when he would consent to go on with the part; but whiskey was cheap, especially the brand furnished by poole brothers, so there was no kick from the powers above. they realized that this particular impersonator of bosko couldn’t last very long—a quart of raw whiskey a day is a terrible strain for any man’s nerves, even a negro’s; so they “indulged” the snake-eater.
the only thing that worried stetson was the fear that perhaps bosko wouldn’t be able to keep up the part till the amalgamated shows came together in the fall. he had watched the “nigger” a good deal of late, and saw certain unmistakable signs. he was the only man in the show who knew the exact amount of the poison that bosko drank every day before assuming his part, so he was in a position to read those signs very correctly.
the first trouble came just after the circus struck vermont. in the interval between the close of the afternoon and the beginning of the evening performance, bosko went up street at[97] a small town called montpelier, and stayed till after time for the evening show to begin.
murphy and the camp doctor, foley, were sent for him, and finally located him in the town jail. he had bought some alcohol at the local agency, prepared some “splits,” and drunk about a pint of the stuff. a few minutes later he had developed an acute attack of something so terrifying to some street urchins, who found him in a back street, that they had run to the only officer in town, and informed him that there was a mad man loose.
after a certain amount of “fixing” with the high sheriff, who was also constable, health officer, and game warden, the doctor was finally allowed to take bosko back to the circus grounds. but the “strangest freak” was not on exhibition that evening, being too busily engaged with snakes of his own, not furnished by the management of the royal roman hippodrome.
during the next week several changes were tried in regard to bosko. he was given a decrease in pay and a decrease in liquor, as a punishment for his misdemeanor. this not being exactly what you might call a success, he was given a raise in pay, the decrease in whiskey still being continued.
fluctuations in salary proved, however, to have no effect on bosko, so long as he was not allowed to spend the money according to[98] his own lights. the arrangement which was finally settled upon was, therefore, a total discontinuance of pay and an increase in whiskey.
three days after the first trouble, even while an instalment of the afternoon’s crowd was eagerly watching the snake-eater and listening to stetson’s description of him, bosko was suddenly visited by his other collection of snakes.
carried away by the violence of the attack, but apparently from force of habit remembering his part, he gave an exhibition that day in the destruction of his companions of the pen, which, though rather expensive to messrs. poole brothers, nevertheless made bosko’s lifelong reputation as a snake-eater.
stetson, with true managerial instinct, made the most of the attack, and the receipts at bosko’s platform on that day rivalled those of the main show. admissions were put up to a quarter, but still the crowd which blocked the railing refused to diminish.
such was the success of that day’s terrible performance that bosko’s fame quickly spread throughout the entire state, and for the next month he proved one of the brightest and most remunerative “stars” that poole brothers had exhibited since the old days of the hindoo leper.
nor did he have to live on the reputation of that one performance alone, for towards the last of the month the attacks were of almost daily[99] occurrence. but that state of affairs could not continue long.
the last public appearance of the “strangest freak” was in concord, n. h., and those who witnessed the ravings of the australian snake-eater on that day saw something which they did not forget for many a year.
the next day bosko was too ill to leave his bed, and a week later he died, still fighting his foes, and wailing piteously, “take ’em away; i can’t eat ’em all. there’s too many of ’em, and they’re too big. there’s hundreds of ’em. take ’em away, i say. they’re in my hair, they’re choking me.”
the snake-eating attraction had to be discontinued after that, for though stetson made some very flattering offers to several of the colored cooks, hostlers, and helpers connected with the show, no one seemed to aspire to the position. some few had seen the negro the last night, and news of that kind travels fast.
the public, however, clamored for a snake-eater. they had heard such blood-curdling reports of the freak which had passed through vermont and new hampshire, that many were the complaints made to the management for not bringing out their whole show.
the circus, being, above all things, an institution catering to the public’s wishes, made heroic efforts. stetson was sent on a special trip to new york, and spent most of the time slumming.[100] he returned soon after with a negro well past middle age and almost blind, but with a strong affinity for gin.
it wasn’t much of a sight for anyone who had ever seen the creator of the part of bosko, this stupid, muttering old man, who sometimes went to sleep during performances; but his predecessor had made the reputation, and he simply lived on it, staying gloriously drunk six days out of the week.
as for poole brothers, they couldn’t complain. the attraction had already netted them ten times what they had ever expected to get out of it. and, remembering how tame had been the original snake-eater when he first took the part, they gave stetson carte blanche in the matter of gin, and trusted that, perhaps, in time the precedent which bosko had established might be repeated.
