Page:Our Sister Republic - Mexico.djvu/152

146 just forward of the shoulder to pierce his heart, the crowd yelling to him to kill him at the first blow. The sword bent almost double by striking a bone, and went wide of the mark. The matadore stopped to bend it straight again, and meantime the now bleeding bull dashed at one of the picadores on horseback. The picadore dropped his lance so as to catch the bull on the shoulder, and the moment the barb pierced the skin the poor animal, as is his wont, wheeled away. This was repeated again and again, and then the matadore gave him half a dozen thrusts, finally reaching a vital spot, and bowed to the judges; the mob in the galleries on the opposite side, rewarding his courage and skill (?) by hurling banana-peel, oranges, and stale vegetables at his head whenever he came within their reach. An assistant now struck the dying bull in the neck with a double-edged knife, and the creature dropped dead as if stricken by lightning. Then, three old horses, harnessed abreast, were driven in and hitched to the bleeding carcass, but it required the united strength of the whole company of "artists" to assist in pulling it out.

The band played, and the second bull came dashing in. The fight, if such it could be called, was simply a repetition of the first. The third bull ran away from the horses, and would only fight in self-defence, running around the arena with his head raised as if appealing for mercy, and the now enraged audience shouted loud and long to "Turn him out," which was finally done by order of the judges,

The fourth bull was a game fellow, and made things lively. He dashed at everything within reach, and drove the assistants again and again behind the barriers. The populace, excited to the highest pitch of