CHAPTER XVIII.
THE BULL FIGHT.
It was one o’clock in the afternoon, and the fights began at three. When they reached the square it seemed that everybody was moving toward the circus, which was located in the suburb of Salamanca, beyond the Prado, outside the gate of Alcala.
The professor was astonished to see fine gentlemen and ladies on their way to the circus, but he was still more astonished to see fathers and mothers taking their children there.
That it was the greatest of all great holidays in Spain was evident by the appearance and conversation of the people. Everybody was smiling and laughing, bowing to friends and acquaintances, calling to each other and seeming very happy indeed.
This feeling of gayety communicated itself to the boys. Frank and Ephraim joked with each other; they jollied the professor, but his face remained grave and unyielding.
It was a long walk, but the suburb was finally reached, and they approached the circus, where an enormous crowd had gathered before the doors.
“Good gracious!” exclaimed Professor Scotch. “Has the entire city of Madrid gone insane? See them sway and push! See them beat each other with their hands! Hear them shout!”
“It must be a great show, or it would not excite them in this manner, eh, professor?”
“If it were not for their magnificent cathedrals, their palaces, and their wonderful paintings, I should say they were still an uncivilized people,” growled the little man. “Is it possible that we must crush ourselves through with this howling mob?”
“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed Frank, who was in a merry mood. “It is plain that you have never attended a Thanksgiving football game in New York, professor.”
“Never, sir, never! You know I distinctly disapprove of football, and I did my best to suppress it at Fardale.”
“At which you made a sad failure.”
“I was succeeding very well till you came and stirred them up by leading the team to victory against Irvington. That was an outrage; but you did make a wonderful run with the ball. I was afraid they would catch you, and the first thing I knew Professor Gunn was pulling at my coat, and asking me to get down off his shoulders and not disgrace myself before the whole academy by yelling like a crazy idiot. Think of that! And you were responsible for it all.”
Frank laughed again, saying:
“If all I have read of bull fights is true, we’ll see something more exciting than that here. Around this way, professor. We’ll not attempt to force a way through that crowd. I have bought seats for the shady side.”
“You seem to know all about it, as if you had been here before.”
“I have.”
“What? When?”
“Oh, I strolled out here yesterday with Ephraim and purchased tickets.”
“You rascal! It is getting to be an impossibility to keep track of you.”
They passed around to another entrance, where the crowd was dressed better and was not fighting so fiercely to get in, although there was considerable crowding.
Civil guards, with revolvers in their belts, were doing their best to maintain order. Soldiers were coming up in bodies, escorted by bands of music. Water venders and orange sellers filled the air with their cries. Ticket speculators were rushing here and there through the crowd, called by hundreds of voices and waving bunches of tickets, clasped between their fingers, over their heads. The grandees of Spain, the aristocrats, ministers, generals, all that was beautiful, splendid and powerful in the great city, could be seen arriving. The uproar was deafening.
“Gol dern my hide ef I ever see anything like this air!” gasped Ephraim. “It beats all natur, by gum!”
“It does take the biscuit,” admitted Frank. “I must confess it lays over the rush for a football game in the United States.”
“It is terrible!” gasped the professor, who was rather pale.
At length, they succeeded in entering the circus. And then they paused in profound amazement.
The interior of the circus was immense. As they had noticed it from the outside, it had not seemed so large, as it was a round building, painted yellow, very low, and having no windows. Once inside, it was seen that it could hold twenty thousand spectators without encroachment on the great space set aside for the performances.
The arena was large and circular. It was large enough for ten ordinary circuses such as are seen in the United States and called immense.
Around the ring was a solid barrier, almost as high as a man’s shoulders. On the inside was a small elevation, two feet from the ground, to enable the toreadors to easily vault over in running to escape from the bull.
The first barrier was followed by still another, which was higher yet, as the bull sometimes leaped the first. Between the two barriers there was a walk, where the toreadors promenaded before the fight, so that they might be seen by all the people. And the personages of note, who were allowed to break over the rules, walked about within the barriers also.
Beyond the outer barrier were rows of stone seats, rising one above the other, every seat numbered. Beyond the seats were boxes and a gallery. The boxes were large enough to hold three families each.
“Come, professor,” said Frank; “we will circulate.”
“Circulate? What do you mean by that?”
“We will go around and look the place over.”
“Will they allow it?”
“I guess so; I see others are doing so. Come on.”
So they began to wander around. In a few moments they came through a passage to a yard where there were many horses gathered.
“Ah!” exclaimed Frank. “These are the poor creatures who are to be ripped and slaughtered by the enraged bull.”
“Is it possible!” exclaimed the professor, with uplifted hands. “And some of them are really good horses. It is beastly—murderous!”
“Don’t express your sentiments so openly,” cautioned Frank. “If you should be overheard by a Spaniard who understood English—well, he might be offended.”
“That’s so, b’gosh!” nodded Ephraim, “and ye can’t ’most alwus sometimes tell what they’ll do when they’re offended. They’re liable to cut up rusty.”
Next they visited the dark bull pens and peered through the gloom at the savage creatures with gleaming eyes and long white horns. The sight of those needle-pointed horns made Ephraim shiver.
“One uv them’d go through a feller mighty easy,” he observed.
Finally, they came to the principal entrance, where were displayed the banderillas which were to be stuck into the necks of the bulls to torture the animals and provoke them to the greatest fury.
Here they saw a number of men in very gay attire, some with one arm or one leg gone, some hobbling about with canes, and some using crutches.
“Old soldiers, by gum!” said Ephraim. “Reg’lar old Grand Army fellers.”
“Not much,” smiled Frank. “Those are old toreadors who have been maimed for life in bull fights.”
“Brutal! brutal!” gurgled the professor, growing black in the face. “It makes me ill to think of it.”
Frank next bought a paper called the Buletin de los Toros, which contained a programme of the day’s doings, and descriptions of the various persons who would take prominent parts in the fights. The description of Señorita Zuera, the wonderful female bull fighter, headed them all, and she was said to be very handsome.
Then they wandered through many corridors and up and down numerous stairways, surrounded all the while by a moving crowd, laughing, shouting and making a great noise.
Finally they came out to the ring, and were ushered to their seats.
By the time they were seated the circus was full. It was a sea of heads, hats, fans and moving hands. The crowd seemed compact, so there was not room for any one to get out.
“We’ll have to stay here now, professor,” chuckled Frank. “There is no escape.”
“I resign myself to fate,” said the little man, solemnly fumbling with his red whiskers.
“Hadn’t you better tie a handkerchief over them?” suggested the mischievous Frank.
“Eh? Over what?”
“Those whiskers. You know bright red enrages the bulls, and one of them may crawl right up here to call on you.”
“Get out! Go on with your nonsense! But, really, why did you get seats so near the ring? What if one of those beasts should break over among us?”
“I was determined to be where we could see well, professor, and you will note that I obtained seats on the shady side, among the best people. The people over here are better dressed than those who are baking in the sun on the other side.”
This was true. On the sunny side there were a thousand bright colors from dresses, parasols and fans. It seemed like a gay masquerade.
On the shady side, the colors were more somber, and black predominated.
Suddenly the band began to play, and the bulls could be heard bellowing in their dark pens.
It was so bewildering that the two American lads were somewhat giddy, and the professor was fairly exhausted before there was a sign of the beginning of the performance.
Above the door where the bull was to enter rose a sort of balcony, called the Toril. On this balcony were those who were to announce the feats.
Suddenly a great fanfare of trumpets came from this balcony.
The hour for the affair to begin had arrived!
Frank never forgot the cold thrill that ran through his veins when he heard that blast of trumpets and knew the spectacle was about to begin.
At the sound of that blast, twenty thousand eyes were turned toward the entrance gate, which opened immediately, admitting the toreadors in full dress.
The band gave a burst of music as they came in, and the great throng of people arose as one man and greeted them with a wild yell, a flourish of hats and handkerchiefs, and a demonstration of unbounded joy and admiration.
The espadas were in advance, and, as they were the ones who always slew the bulls, they received the greatest attention. There were three of them, dressed in silk, satin and velvet, the colors being orange, blue and carnation.
These heroes of the bull ring were covered with fringes, galloons, spangles and ornaments of gold and silver, while they wore red and yellow capes, white silk stockings, silk girdles and fur caps.
“Gol dern my eyesight!” gurgled Ephraim Gallup, catching his breath. “But they do look ’tarnal slick!”
“Folly! folly!” muttered the professor, in a dazed way.
Following the toreador came the banderilleros, whose duty it was to plant the torturing barbs in the necks of the bulls. They were dressed much like the toreadors, only not quite so gaudily.
Then came the picadores on horseback, armed with long lances, with which they were to hold the bulls at bay. They wore embroidered jackets and broad-brimmed, low-crowned gray hats.
A mighty roar went up from the throats of the spectators, for, riding at the head of the picadores, was Señorita Zuera, the Queen of the Bull Fighters.
She was more gaudily dressed than any of the others, and she rode a really mettlesome and fiery horse.
Frank had brought his field glasses, and he immediately trained them on this remarkable girl, for girl he saw she was.
“Is it possible!” he muttered. “I would not have believed it.”
“What is it?” fluttered the professor.
“She is young.”
“Impossible!”
“Not more than eighteen or twenty.”
“It can’t be!”
“And strikingly handsome.”
“Nonsense!”
“It is true.”
“She is made up to look young and handsome; but she must be coarse and brutal. It cannot be otherwise.”
Frank handed Scotch the glasses.
“Take a look for yourself, and see what you think.”
The professor glued them to his eyes, adjusted them to suit his vision, and then regarded the girl long and earnestly.
“Hum! Ha!” He coughed in a hesitating manner.
“Well, what do you think now?” asked Frank.
“She really looks young,” the man confessed, with great reluctance. “And she is not so repulsive as I thought she would appear.”
“By gum!” gurgled Ephraim, getting his breath for the first time. “Jest give me them air glasses. I want to git a peek at that gal.”
The professor was somewhat reluctant about surrendering the glasses, but Ephraim obtained them and got a “peek.”
“By gum! ef she ain’t a ripper!” he exclaimed. “She jest takes the custard, b’gosh!”
Behind the picadores came the servants, dressed in their holiday costume. In a majestic manner all crossed the arena toward the royal box. It was most picturesque and impressive.
In front of the royal box the entire party formed in a group and made a salute. Then the alcalde arose and tossed the key of the bull pens into the arena, giving a signal for the fight to begin. A gasp of intense eagerness and expectation ran over the great throng of spectators.
A guard picked up the key and placed himself before the door, beyond which the bull could now be heard bellowing. The espadas ran to the first barrier, and vaulted over. The others scattered to various positions, Señorita Zuera dashing to the farther side of the arena, and giving an exhibition of superb horsemanship by going at full speed right up to the barrier, where her horse whirled on its hind legs as if on a pivot.
She received a round of applause.
Some of the picadores retired to await their turn, and then every eye was fastened on the door through which the bull must enter.
Despite himself, Frank felt his heart thumping in his bosom as it had never thumped before. A choking sensation came upon him, and he gasped for breath.
“Great Scott!” he muttered, in dismay. “What is the matter with me! Is it possible that I am going to lose my nerve?”
The roaring of the bull made the horses of the picadores tremble, and the picadores themselves, experienced bull fighters, turned pale.
Then came another fanfare of trumpets, and the door burst open, admitting an enormous bull, which dashed into the arena with blazing eyes, uttering a terrible bellow.
That bellow was echoed by a tremendous shout from the throats of the thousands of spectators. It was their greeting to the bull.
As the animal shot into the ring, a manderillo flung a barb, to which was attached a rosette, into his shoulder. The bull shook his head, but seemed to pass his first tormentor in a sort of blind rage.
Pausing a single moment, the bull gave another roar, and then charged at the nearest picadore. The fellow was unable to withstand the fury of that first rush. He tried to ward the animal off with his lance, but he failed to plant it properly, and then man and horse went down, the horse ripped open in a twinkling by those terrible horns.
The first blood had been spilled, and the spectators yelled with mad delight. The picadore was down, and the crowd shrieked in a joyful way:
“He is killed! He is killed!”
One might have thought the picadore had committed a mortal offense against every man, woman and child present, and they were rejoicing to see him justly punished.
But the bull seemed satisfied with its work on the horse, and it whirled to charge on the next picadore, leaving the fallen one to scramble up and hastily limp away toward the barrier, which he lost no time in placing between himself and another attack.
The second picadore was no less fortunate than the first, and one of the bull’s horns opened a great gash in the horse’s breast, from which a torrent of blood issued.
The picadore was frightened, lost his head, leaped from the saddle, and fled for the barrier.
The crowd rose up and howled its derision and wrath.
“Coward!” shrieked the great throng. “Lazy creature! Wretch! Impostor! Go hide! Never dare show yourself again!”
Over the barrier leaped the fellow, and Frank, who was near at hand, saw he was as pale as a ghost and literally shaking with terror.
Perhaps that picadore had been in a dozen bull fights before, and never quailed or lost his nerve for a moment; but this time he was unmanned in a twinkling, as an actor is sometimes overcome by stage fright when such a thing seems the least likely to happen.
The bull did not pursue the wounded horse, which leaped away, spurting blood at every jump. No; the furious animal charged a third picadore, and it seemed that nothing could stop its rush, for the horse swerved just as the fellow tried to plant his lance, and once more the bull did its dreadful work.
Then, with a wild bellow of satisfaction and defiance, the animal ran into the middle of the arena and stopped, its horns dripping crimson, its eyes full of fiendish fury.
Behind the bull lay two dying horses, struggling in their blood, their bodies ripped open. Another horse was staggering around the arena, blood gushing from the terrible wound in its breast.
And now the spectators went wild. They leaped to their feet and howled their delight, waving hats, parasols, fans and papers in the air. The fight had begun to their entire satisfaction.
Frank was both horrified and fascinated. He had felt himself turn ghastly pale and sicken, and yet he was chained to his seat, and his eyes had watched every movement of the bull. At his side he heard Ephraim Gallup gasping for breath. When the bull rushed to the center of the ring and stopped the boy from Vermont groaned:
“I wish I was aout uv this! By gum! I’d give a dollar ef I was to hum on the farm!”
Professor Scotch was so overcome that he could not speak. He was choking and swallowing in a convulsive way.
“Look!” howled the crowd. “The banderilleros! Bueno! Brava!”
Several men rushed at the bull and planted darts in his neck and shoulders. He charged them, and they escaped one after the other. They were very agile and daring.
Then came others just when the bull seemed infuriated beyond measure. They flaunted scarlet cloths in the animal’s face, provoking him still more. He charged one after the other, and they dodged and avoided him, flying from him, and then turning to come back and torment him again.
Sometimes the bull would pursue one of them to the barrier, and the fellow would barely vault over in time to escape those bloody horns. The bull would strike its head with terrible force against the barrier, kick, bellow, roar and then charge on the dead horses.
Then the now utterly infuriated bull saw Señorita Zuera, who was calmly sitting in the saddle, awaiting the assault.
With lowered head and smoking nostrils, the blood-dripping animal charged straight for the girl, and another wild and terrible shout went up from the throats of the spectators.