by B. M. Bower
CHAPTER XXII
THE BATTLE OF BEASTS
Sweating, impatient humans wedged tight upon the seats around the rim ofthe great adobe corral, waited for the bulls to dash in through the gateand be goaded into the frenzy that would thrill the spectatorspleasurably. Meantime, those spectators munched sweets and gossiped,smoked cigarettes and gossiped; sweltered under the glare of the sun andgossiped; and always they talked of the gringos, who had come onehundred strong and never a woman among them; one hundred strong, andevery man of them dangling pistols at his hips--pistols that could shootsix times before they must be reloaded, and shoot with marvelousexactness of aim at that; one hundred strong, and every one of thehundred making bets that the gringo with the red-brown hair would winthe medalla oro from Don Jose, who three times had fought and kept itflashing on his breast, so that now no vaquero dared lift eyes to it!
Truly, those gringos were a mad people, said the gossips. They wouldsee the blue-eyed one flung dead upon the ground, and then--would thegringos want to fight? Knives were instinctively loosened under sasheswhen the owners talked of the possibility. Knives are swift and keen,but those guns that could shoot six times with one loading--Gossippreferred to dwell greedily upon the details of the quarrel between theyoung Don Jose and his gringo rival.
There were whispers also of a quarrel between the senorita and hergringo lover, and it was said that the young senorita prayed last nightthat Jose would win. But there were other whispers than that: One, thatthe maid of the senorita had been seen to give a rose and a writtenmessage into the hands of the Senor Allen, not an hour ago; and had gonesinging to her mistress again, and smiling while she sang. Truly, thatdid not look as if the senorita had prayed for Jose! The Senor Allen hadkept the rose. Look you! It was a token, and he would doubtless wear itupon his breast in the fight, where he hoped later to wear the medallaoro--but where the hands would be folded instead while the padres saidmass for him; if indeed mass could be said over a dead gringo! There waslaughter to follow that conceit. And so they talked, and made thetedious time of waiting seem shorter than it was.
Late comers looked for seats, found none, and were forced to contentthemselves with such perches as neighboring trees and the roofs of theoutbuildings might afford. Peons who had early scrambled to the insecurevantage-point of the nearest stable roof, were hustled off to make roomfor a group of Salinas caballeros who arrived late. This was merely thebull-fighting coming now; but bull-fighting never palls, even thoughbigger things are yet in store. For there is always the chance that ahorse may be gored to death--even that a man may die horribly. Suchthings have been and may be again; so the tardy ones climbed andscurried and attained breathlessness and a final resting-place together.
Came a season of frenzied yelling, breathless moments of suspense, andstamping that threatened disaster to the seats. Two bulls in successionhad been let into the corral, bellowed under the shower of be-ribbonedbarbs and went down, fighting valiantly to the last.
Blood-lusting, the great crowd screamed importunities for more. "Bringout the bear!" was their demand. "Let us see that she-bear fight the bigbull which has been reserved for the combat!"
Now, this was ticklish work for the Picardo vaqueros who werestage-managing the sport. From the top of the corral above thebear-cage they made shift to slide the oaken gate built across anopening into the adobe corral. Through the barred ceiling of the penthey prodded the bear from her sulking and sent her, malevolent andsullen, into the arena. (Senoras tucked vivid skirts closer about stockyankles and sent murmurous appeals to their patron saints, and senoritassquealed in trepidation that was at least half sincere. It was a verybig bear, and she truly looked very fierce and as if she would thinknothing of climbing the adobe wall and devouring a whole front seat fullof fluttering femininity! Rosa screamed and was immediately reassured,when Teresita reminded her that those fierce gringos across the corralhad many guns.)
The bear did not give more than one look of hatred at the flutter above.Loose-skinned and loose-jointed she shambled across the corral; liftedher pointed nose to sniff disgustedly the air tainted with the odor ofenemies whom she could not reach with her huge paws, and went on. Cleararound the corral she walked, her great, hand-like feet falling assilently as the leaf shadows that splashed one whole corner and dancedall over her back when she passed that way; back to the pen where hertwo cubs whimpered against the bars, and watched her wishfully with pertlittle tiltings of their heads. (Teresita was confiding to Rosa, besideher, that they would each have a cub for a pet when the mother bear waskilled).
Valencia and Pancho and one other were straining to shift the gate ofanother pen. It was awkward, since they must work from the top; for theadobe corral was as the jaws of a lion while the bear circled watchfullythere, and the pen they were striving to open was no safer, with thebig, black bull rolling bloodshot eyes at them from below. He had beenteased with clods of dirt and small stones flung at him. He had shakenthe very posts in their sockets with the impact of his huge body whilehe tried to reach his tormentors, until they desisted in the fear thathe would break his horns off in his rage and so would cheat them of thesight of the good, red blood of the she-bear. Now he was in a fine,fighting mood, and he had both horns with which to fight. From hismuzzle dribbled the froth of his anger, as he stiffened his great neckand rumbled a challenge to all the world. Twice, when the gate moved aninch or two and creaked with straining, he came at it so viciously thatit jammed again; indeed, it was the batterings of the bull that had madeit so hard to open.
Valencia, catching a timbered crosspiece, gave it a lift and a heave.The gate came suddenly free and slid back as they strained at thecrosspiece. The bull, from the far side of the pen where he had backedfor another rush, shot clear through the opening and half-way across theadobe corral before he realized that he was free.
The bear, at pause in her circlings while she snuffed at the bars thatnow separated her from her cubs, whirled and lifted herself awkwardlyupon her haunches, her narrow head thrust forward sinisterly as shefaced this fresh annoyance. Midway, the bull stopped with two or threestiff-legged jumps and glared at her, a little chagrined, perhaps, atthe sudden transformation from human foe to this grizzled hill-giantwhom instinct had taught him to fear. In his calf-hood he had fled manytimes before the menace of grizzly, and perhaps he remembered. At anyrate he stiffened his forelegs, stopped short, and glared.
Up above, the breaths that had been held came in a shout together.Everyone who saw the pause yelled to the bull to go on and prove hiscourage. And the bull, when the first shock of surprise and distaste hadpassed, backed ominously, head lowered, tail switching in spasmodicjerks from side to side. The bear stood a little straighter in herdefiance; her head went forward an inch; beyond that she did not move,for her tactics were not to rush but to wait, and to put every ounce ofher terrible strength into the meeting.
The neck of the bull swelled and curved, his eyeballs showed glassy.His back humped; like a bowlder hurled down a mountain slope he made hisrush, and nothing could swerve him.
The bear might have dodged, and sent him crashing against the wall. Menhoped that she would, and so prolong the excitement. But she did not.She stood there and waited, her forepaws outspread as if for an embrace.
Like a bullet sent true to the target, the head of the bull met thegaunt, ungainly, gray shape; met and went down, the tip of one sharphorn showing in the rough hair of her back, her body collapsing limplyacross the neck she had broken with one tremendous side-blow as hestruck. A moment she struggled and clawed futilely to free herself, thenlay as quiet as the bull himself. And so that spectacle ended swiftlyand suddenly.
In the reaction which followed that ten-seconds' suspense, men grumbledbecause it had ended so soon. But, upon second thoughts, its verybrevity brought the duel just that much closer, and so they heaved greatsighs of relaxation and began craning and looking for the two to enterwho would fight to the death with riatas.
Instead, entered the gringo wh
om Don Andres had foolishly chosen formajordomo, and stood in the middle of the corral, quietly waiting whilethe vaqueros with their horses and riatas dragged away the carcasses ofthe bull and the bear.
When the main gate slammed shut behind them Dade lifted his eyes to thatside of the corral where the Californians were massed clannishlytogether, and raised his hands for silence; got it by degrees, as aclamoring breaker subsides and dwindles to little, whispering ripplesounds; and straightway began in the sonorous melody of the Castiliantongue which had been brought, pure and undefiled, from Spain and hadnot yet been greatly corrupted into the dialect spoken to-day among thedescendants and called Spanish.
"Senors, and Senoras" (so he began), "the hour is now midday, and thereare many who have come far and are wearied. In the orchard you will findrefreshment for all; and your host, Don Andres Picardo, desires me tosay for him that he will be greatly honored if you will consider thatall things are yours to be used for your comfort and pleasure.
"In two hours, further sports will take place, in the open beyond thiscorral, so that the seats which you now occupy will serve also to give afair view of the field. There will be riding contests, free for allcaballeros to enter who so desire, and the prize will be a beautifulsilver-trimmed bridle that may be seen at the saddle house. After theriding, there will be a contest in the lassoing and tying down of wildsteers, for which a prize of a silver hatband and spurs will be given byDon Andres Picardo, your host. Also there will be the riding of bulls;and the prize for the most skillful rider will be a silver-mountedquirto of beautiful design.
"Immediately after these various contests"--Dade could see the tensingof interest among his listeners then--"there will be a contest withriatas between Don Jose Pacheco and Senor Jack Allen, an Americanovaquero from Texas. As the prize for this contest, Don Andres offersSolano, a gelding, four years of age and unbroken. But Don Andres makesthis condition: that the winner shall lasso his prize in this corral,and ride him before you all. If he should chance to be thrown, then theprize shall be forfeited to the other contestant, who will also berequired to ride the horse before you all. If he also shall fail to ridethe caballo, then will the horse revert to Don Andres, who will keep himfor his own saddle horse!" He waited while the applause at this sly bitof humor gradually diminished into the occasional pistol-popping ofenthusiastic palms, and gestured for silence that he might speak again.
"I am also instructed to inform you that not alone for the prize whichDon Andres offers will the contest be fought. I am requested to announcethat the Texas vaquero, Senor Jack Allen, hereby publicly challenges DonJose Pacheco to contest for the gold medal which now rests in thepossession of Don Jose. Senors and Senoras, I thank you for attending sograciously to my words, and I wish to ask for continued attention whileI announce the sports to these Americanos who do not understand theSpanish, and who are also the guests of Don Andres Picardo, your host."
He bowed low before them, turned and told Bill Wilson's solemnlyattentive crowd what was to take place after the feast. Not soelaborate; terse, that he might not try the politeness of that othercrowd too far. And when he was done he stopped himself on the verge ofsaying more, reconsidered and, trusting to the fact that scarce aSpaniard there spoke English, added a warning.
"I hope you all realize," he said, "that we're anxious to haveeverything go off peaceably. We look to you men to see that, whatevermay happen, there shall be no disturbance. Such things are easierstarted than stopped; and, just as a hint of what will do the most tokeep the peace, I want to announce that the water on this rancho can'tbe beat, and can safely be used for drinking purposes!"
"Water goes, m' son, or I'll know the reason why," called Bill Wilson,and the palms of his crowd clapped vigorous assent.
"That thar's the sensiblest thing you've said, so fur," approved JerrySimpson, beside Bill. "Me an' the twins'll stand guard, if necessary,and see't that thar hint is took." Whereat Bill Wilson clapped him onthe shoulder approvingly.
There was the hum of confusion while the hungry sought the barbecuepits. Dade, his face settled into gloomy foreboding in spite of certainheartening circumstances, went slowly away to his room; where Jack,refusing to take any interest in the sports, lay sprawled upon the bedwith a cigarette gone cold between his lips and his eyes fixed hardlyupon the ceiling.
Dade gave him a look to measure the degree of his unapproachable mood,sighed wearily and flung his silver-spangled sombrero petulantly into acorner.
"Damn!" he said viciously, as if his vocabulary was so inadequate tovoice his emotions that the one expletive would do as well as any tocover his meaning; and sat down heavily in a cushioned chair.
Two minutes, perhaps, of silence, while from sheer force of habit herolled a cigarette he did not want.
Then Jack moved his head on the pillow so that he could look at Dade.
"I wish you wouldn't take my affairs so to heart," he said, apathyfighting his understanding and his appreciation of a friend like this."I'd he a whole lot easier in my mind if I didn't know you were worriedhalf to death. And it's no good worrying, Dade. Some' things just comeat a fellow, head down; and they have to be met, if we expect to lookanybody in the face again." He shifted his head impatiently and staredagain at the ceiling. "I'd rather be dead than a coward," he said,speaking low.
"Oh, I know. But--men are just beasts with clothes on their backs. Didyou hear them yelling, awhile ago? That was when beasts just as human asthey are under the skin, fought and killed each other, so those yellingmaniacs could get a thrill or two." He searched his pockets for a match,found one and drew it glumly along the sole of his high-heeled, calfskinboot with its embroidered top of yellow silk on red morocco.
"That's what makes me sick to the stomach," he went on. "They'll sit andwatch you two, and they'll gloat over the spectacle--"
A brisk tattoo of knuckles on the oaken door stopped him. Bill came in,grinning with satisfaction over something.
"Say, I've been getting bets laid down five and six to one, on thegreaser," he exulted. "You go in and clean him up, Jack, and we'll skinthis outfit down to their shirts! All the boys have been taking everybet that was offered; and the old don, I guess, is about the onlygreaser on the place that ain't bet all he's got. Three-to-one that Josegets you the third pass, m' son! Now, I don't know a damned thing aboutthis here lasso business, but I took 'em on that, and so did a lot ofthe boys; and from that up to six-to-one that he'll get you! Want to laya few bets yourself, you and Dade? That's what I come to find out."
Dade threw out both hands in disgust with the idea; revoltedunexpectedly at the thought of being accused of failing to back hisfriendship with money as well as with every fiber of his loyal being,and turned sourly to Bill. "I've got something like six or eighthundred, in dust," he said. "Lend me enough to make it a thousand, andput 'er up. Take any odds they offer, damn 'em. It'll be blood money,win or lose, but--put 'er up. They can't yowl around that I'm afraid toback him down to my boots."
"That's the kinda talk!" approved Bill. "Make 'em take water all around,the swine! And the boys'll see they cough up afterwards, too. I guess--"He checked himself and went out, still grinning.