THE BATTLE OF BEASTS
Sweating, impatient humans wedged tight upon the seats around the rim of
the great adobe corral, waited for the bulls to dash in through the gate
and be goaded into the frenzy that would thrill the spectators
pleasurably. Meantime, those spectators munched sweets and gossiped,
smoked cigarettes and gossiped; sweltered under the glare of the sun and
gossiped; and always they talked of the gringos, who had come one
hundred strong and never a woman among them; one hundred strong, and
every man of them dangling pistols at his hips--pistols that could shoot
six times before they must be reloaded, and shoot with marvelous
exactness of aim at that; one hundred strong, and every one of the
hundred making bets that the gringo with the red-brown hair would win
the medalla oro from Don José, who three times had fought and kept it
flashing on his breast, so that now no vaquero dared lift eyes to it!
Truly, those gringos were a mad people, said the gossips. They would
see the blue-eyed one flung dead upon the ground, and then--would the
gringos want to fight? Knives were instinctively loosened under sashes
when the owners talked of the possibility. Knives are swift and keen,
but those guns that could shoot six times with one loading--Gossip
preferred to dwell greedily upon the details of the quarrel between the
young Don José and his gringo rival.
There were whispers also of a quarrel between the señorita and her
gringo lover, and it was said that the young señorita prayed last night
that José would win. But there were other whispers than that: One, that
the maid of the señorita had been seen to give a rose and a written
message into the hands of the Señor Allen, not an hour ago; and had gone
singing to her mistress again, and smiling while she sang. Truly, that
did not look as if the señorita had prayed for José! The Señor Allen had
kept the rose. Look you! It was a token, and he would doubtless wear it
upon his breast in the fight, where he hoped later to wear the medalla
oro--but where the hands would be folded instead while the padres said
mass for him; if indeed mass could be said over a dead gringo! There was
laughter to follow that conceit. And so they talked, and made the
tedious time of waiting seem shorter than it was.
Late comers looked for seats, found none, and were forced to content
themselves with such perches as neighboring trees and the roofs of the
outbuildings might afford. Peons who had early scrambled to the insecure
vantage-point of the nearest stable roof, were hustled off to make room
for a group of Salinas caballeros who arrived late. This was merely the
bull-fighting coming now; but bull-fighting never palls, even though
bigger things are yet in store. For there is always the chance that a
horse may be gored to death--even that a man may die horribly. Such
things have been and may be again; so the tardy ones climbed and
scurried and attained breathlessness and a final resting-place together.
Came a season of frenzied yelling, breathless moments of suspense, and
stamping that threatened disaster to the seats. Two bulls in succession
had been let into the corral, bellowed under the shower of be-ribboned
barbs and went down, fighting valiantly to the last.
Blood-lusting, the great crowd screamed importunities for more. "Bring
out the bear!" was their demand. "Let us see that she-bear fight the big
bull which has been reserved for the combat!"
Now, this was ticklish work for the Picardo vaqueros who were
stage-managing the sport. From the top of the corral above the
bear-cage they made shift to slide the oaken gate built across an
opening into the adobe corral. Through the barred ceiling of the pen
they prodded the bear from her sulking and sent her, malevolent and
sullen, into the arena. (Señoras tucked vivid skirts closer about stocky
ankles and sent murmurous appeals to their patron saints, and señoritas
squealed in trepidation that was at least half sincere. It was a very
big bear, and she truly looked very fierce and as if she would think
nothing of climbing the adobe wall and devouring a whole front seat full
of fluttering femininity! Rosa screamed and was immediately reassured,
when Teresita reminded her that those fierce gringos across the corral
had 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; lifted
her pointed nose to sniff disgustedly the air tainted with the odor of
enemies whom she could not reach with her huge paws, and went on. Clear
around the corral she walked, her great, hand-like feet falling as
silently as the leaf shadows that splashed one whole corner and danced
all over her back when she passed that way; back to the pen where her
two cubs whimpered against the bars, and watched her wishfully with pert
little tiltings of their heads. (Teresita was confiding to Rosa, beside
her, that they would each have a cub for a pet when the mother bear was
killed).
Valencia and Pancho and one other were straining to shift the gate of
another pen. It was awkward, since they must work from the top; for the
adobe corral was as the jaws of a lion while the bear circled watchfully
there, and the pen they were striving to open was no safer, with the
big, black bull rolling bloodshot eyes at them from below. He had been
teased with clods of dirt and small stones flung at him. He had shaken
the very posts in their sockets with the impact of his huge body while
he tried to reach his tormentors, until they desisted in the fear that
he would break his horns off in his rage and so would cheat them of the
sight 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 his
muzzle dribbled the froth of his anger, as he stiffened his great neck
and rumbled a challenge to all the world. Twice, when the gate moved an
inch or two and creaked with straining, he came at it so viciously that
it jammed again; indeed, it was the batterings of the bull that had made
it 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 the
crosspiece. The bull, from the far side of the pen where he had backed
for another rush, shot clear through the opening and half-way across the
adobe corral before he realized that he was free.
The bear, at pause in her circlings while she snuffed at the bars that
now separated her from her cubs, whirled and lifted herself awkwardly
upon her haunches, her narrow head thrust forward sinisterly as she
faced this fresh annoyance. Midway, the bull stopped with two or three
stiff-legged jumps and glared at her, a little chagrined, perhaps, at
the sudden transformation from human foe to this grizzled hill-giant
whom instinct had taught him to fear. In his calf-hood he had fled many
times before the menace of grizzly, and perhaps he remembered. At any
rate 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 his
courage. And the bull, when the first shock of surprise and distaste had
passed, backed ominously, head lowered, tail switching in spasmodic
jerks from side to side. The bear stood a little straighter in her
defiance; 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 of
her 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 his
rush, and nothing could swerve him.
The bear might have dodged, and sent him crashing against the wall. Men
hoped 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 the
gaunt, ungainly, gray shape; met and went down, the tip of one sharp
horn showing in the rough hair of her back, her body collapsing limply
across the neck she had broken with one tremendous side-blow as he
struck. A moment she struggled and clawed futilely to free herself, then
lay as quiet as the bull himself. And so that spectacle ended swiftly
and suddenly.
In the reaction which followed that ten-seconds' suspense, men grumbled
because it had ended so soon. But, upon second thoughts, its very
brevity brought the duel just that much closer, and so they heaved great
sighs of relaxation and began craning and looking for the two to enter
who would fight to the death with riatas.
Instead, entered the gringo whom Don Andres had foolishly chosen for
majordomo, and stood in the middle of the corral, quietly waiting while
the vaqueros with their horses and riatas dragged away the carcasses of
the bull and the bear.
When the main gate slammed shut behind them Dade lifted his eyes to that
side of the corral where the Californians were massed clannishly
together, and raised his hands for silence; got it by degrees, as a
clamoring breaker subsides and dwindles to little, whispering ripple
sounds; and straightway began in the sonorous melody of the Castilian
tongue which had been brought, pure and undefiled, from Spain and had
not yet been greatly corrupted into the dialect spoken to-day among the
descendants and called Spanish.
"Señors, and Señoras" (so he began), "the hour is now midday, and there
are many who have come far and are wearied. In the orchard you will find
refreshment for all; and your host, Don Andres Picardo, desires me to
say for him that he will be greatly honored if you will consider that
all things are yours to be used for your comfort and pleasure.
"In two hours, further sports will take place, in the open beyond this
corral, so that the seats which you now occupy will serve also to give a
fair view of the field. There will be riding contests, free for all
caballeros to enter who so desire, and the prize will be a beautiful
silver-trimmed bridle that may be seen at the saddle house. After the
riding, there will be a contest in the lassoing and tying down of wild
steers, for which a prize of a silver hatband and spurs will be given by
Don Andres Picardo, your host. Also there will be the riding of bulls;
and the prize for the most skillful rider will be a silver-mounted
quirto of beautiful design.
"Immediately after these various contests"--Dade could see the tensing
of interest among his listeners then--"there will be a contest with
riatas between Don José Pacheco and Señor Jack Allen, an Americano
vaquero from Texas. As the prize for this contest, Don Andres offers
Solano, a gelding, four years of age and unbroken. But Don Andres makes
this 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 the
prize shall be forfeited to the other contestant, who will also be
required to ride the horse before you all. If he also shall fail to ride
the caballo, then will the horse revert to Don Andres, who will keep him
for his own saddle horse!" He waited while the applause at this sly bit
of humor gradually diminished into the occasional pistol-popping of
enthusiastic palms, and gestured for silence that he might speak again.
"I am also instructed to inform you that not alone for the prize which
Don Andres offers will the contest be fought. I am requested to announce
that the Texas vaquero, Señor Jack Allen, hereby publicly challenges Don
José Pacheco to contest for the gold medal which now rests in the
possession of Don José. Señors and Señoras, I thank you for attending so
graciously to my words, and I wish to ask for continued attention while
I announce the sports to these Americanos who do not understand the
Spanish, and who are also the guests of Don Andres Picardo, your host."
He bowed low before them, turned and told Bill Wilson's solemnly
attentive crowd what was to take place after the feast. Not so
elaborate; terse, that he might not try the politeness of that other
crowd too far. And when he was done he stopped himself on the verge of
saying more, reconsidered and, trusting to the fact that scarce a
Spaniard there spoke English, added a warning.
"I hope you all realize," he said, "that we're anxious to have
everything go off peaceably. We look to you men to see that, whatever
may happen, there shall be no disturbance. Such things are easier
started than stopped; and, just as a hint of what will do the most to
keep the peace, I want to announce that the water on this rancho can't
be 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 Jerry
Simpson, beside Bill. "Me an' the twins'll stand guard, if necessary,
and see't that thar hint is took." Whereat Bill Wilson clapped him on
the shoulder approvingly.
There was the hum of confusion while the hungry sought the barbecue
pits. Dade, his face settled into gloomy foreboding in spite of certain
heartening circumstances, went slowly away to his room; where Jack,
refusing to take any interest in the sports, lay sprawled upon the bed
with a cigarette gone cold between his lips and his eyes fixed hardly
upon 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 a
corner.
"Damn!" he said viciously, as if his vocabulary was so inadequate to
voice his emotions that the one expletive would do as well as any to
cover his meaning; and sat down heavily in a cushioned chair.
Two minutes, perhaps, of silence, while from sheer force of habit he
rolled 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, apathy
fighting 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 worried
half to death. And it's no good worrying, Dade. Some' things just come
at a fellow, head down; and they have to be met, if we expect to look
anybody in the face again." He shifted his head impatiently and stared
again 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. Did
you hear them yelling, awhile ago? That was when beasts just as human as
they are under the skin, fought and killed each other, so those yelling
maniacs 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, calfskin
boot 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 and
watch 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 the
greaser," he exulted. "You go in and clean him up, Jack, and we'll skin
this outfit down to their shirts! All the boys have been taking every
bet that was offered; and the old don, I guess, is about the only
greaser on the place that ain't bet all he's got. Three-to-one that José
gets you the third pass, m' son! Now, I don't know a damned thing about
this here lasso business, but I took 'em on that, and so did a lot of
the boys; and from that up to six-to-one that he'll get you! Want to lay
a few bets yourself, you and Dade? That's what I come to find out."
Dade threw out both hands in disgust with the idea; revolted
unexpectedly at the thought of being accused of failing to back his
friendship with money as well as with every fiber of his loyal being,
and turned sourly to Bill. "I've got something like six or eight
hundred, in dust," he said. "Lend me enough to make it a thousand, and
put '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 to
back 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.