The first exhibition on the programme was to be the _coleo de toros_,
which may be rendered in English as "tailing the bull." It is only in
the very large cities of Mexico where a regular _plaza de toros_, or
arena for the bull-fight, is to be found; but in every tillage, however
insignificant, the spoil of bull-tailing may be witnessed, as this only
requires an open plain, and as wild a bull as can be procured. The
sport is not quite so exciting as the bull-fight, as it is less perilous
to those engaged in it. Not unfrequently, however, a gored horse or a
mutilated rider is produced by the "coleo;" and fatal accidents have
occurred at times. The horses, too, sometimes stumble, and both horse
and rider are trampled by the others crowding from behind, so that in
the pellmell drive awkward accidents are anything but uncommon. The
coleo is, therefore, a game of strength, courage, and skill; and to
excel in it is an object of high ambition among the youth of a New
Mexican settlement.
The arrangements having been completed, it was announced by a herald
that the coleo was about to begin. These arrangements were simple
enough, and consisted in collecting the crowd to one side, so that the
bull, when let loose, would have a clear track before him in the
direction of the open country. Should he not be allowed this favour he
might head _towards_ the crowd,--a thing to be apprehended. In fear of
this, most of the women were to be seen mounting into the rude
_carretas_, scores of which were upon the ground, having carried their
owners to the spectacle. Of course the senoras and senoritas on the
raised benches felt secure.
The competitors were now drawn up in a line. There were a dozen
detailed for this first race,--young men of all classes, who were, or
fancied themselves, "crack" riders. There were rancheros in their
picturesque attire, smart arrieros, miners from the hills, townsmen,
hacendados of the valley, vaqueros from the grazing-farms, and
ciboleros, whose home is for the most part on the wide prairies.
Several dragoons, too, were arrayed with the rest, eager to prove their
superiority in the _manege_ of the horse.
At a given signal the bull was brought forth from a neighbouring
_corral_. He was not led by men afoot,--that would have been a
dangerous undertaking. His conductors were well-mounted vaqueros, who,
with their lazoes around his horns, were ready, in case of his showing
symptoms of mutiny, to fling him to the earth by a jerk.
A vicious-looking brute he appeared, with shaggy frontlet and scowling
lurid eye. It was _plain_ that it only needed a little goading to make
him a still more terrible object; for he already swept his tail angrily
against his flanks, tossed his long straight horns in the air, snorted
sharply, and beat the turf at intervals with his hoofs. He was
evidently one of the fiercest of a fierce race--the race of Spanish
bulls.
Every eye was fixed upon him with interest, and the spectators freely
commented upon his qualities. Some thought him too fat, others alleged
he was just in the condition to make a good run--as, in the coleo,
speed, not courage, is the desirable quality. This difference of
opinions led to the laying of numerous wagers on the result,--that is,
the time that should elapse from the start until the bull should be
"tailed" and "thrown." The throwing of the bull, of course ends the
chase.
When it is considered that the brute selected is one of the strongest,
swiftest, and fiercest of his kind, and that no weapon--not even the
lazo--is allowed, it will be admitted this is a matter of no easy
accomplishment. The animal goes at full run, almost as fast as the
horse can gallop; and to bring him to the ground under these
circumstances requires the performance of a feat, and one that demands
skill, strength, and the best of horsemanship. That feat is to seize
the bull by the tail, and jerk the animal off his legs!
The bull was led out some two hundred yards beyond the line of horsemen,
where he was halted, with his head turned to the open plain. The
lazoes, that held him by a leash-knot, were then cautiously slipped, two
or three fire-squibs, pointed and barbed, were shot into his hips, and
away he went amidst the yells of the spectators!
Next moment the riders spurred after, each shouting in his own fashion.
Soon the line was broken, and a confused spread of horsemen, like a
"field" of fox-hunters, was seen scouring over the plain. Each moment
the troop became elongated, until what had started in line was now
strung out in double and single file to a length of several hundred
yards. Still on they went, whipping, and spurring, and urging their
steeds to the utmost.
The bull, maddened by the arrowy squibs, and terrified by their hissing,
ran at the top of his speed in a nearly direct line. The start he had
been allowed was not so easily taken up, even by fast riders, and he had
got a full mile or more before any one neared him. Then a dragoon,
mounted on a large bay horse, was seen pressing him closely, and at
length laying hold of the tail. He was observed to give it a jerk or
two, as though endeavouring to fling the brute by sheer strength. It
was a failure, however; for the next moment the bull shot out in a side
direction, and left his pursuer behind.
A young hacendado, splendidly horsed, was next upon his flanks; but each
time he reached forth to grasp the tail it was whisked beyond his reach.
He succeeded at length in seizing it; but the bull, making a sudden
lurch, whipped his tail from the rider's hands, and left him also in the
rear.
One condition of the "coleo" was, that each competitor, after having
once failed, should retire from the ground; so that the hacendado and
the dragoon were now actually _hors de chasse_.
These were seen riding back, though not directly in front of the
spectators. They preferred making a roundabout thing of it, so that
their fallen faces might not be too closely scanned on their return.
On went the bull, and after him the eager and excited horsemen. Another
dragoon soon tried his "pluck," and also failed; and then a vaquero, and
another horseman, and another, with like success--each failure being
hailed by a groan from the crowd. There were several tumbles, too, at
which the spectators laughed heartily; and one horse was badly gored,
having headed the bull and got entangled upon his horns.
In less than ten minutes eleven out of the twelve competitors were seen
returning from the chase.
Only one now remained to make his trial. The bull had proved a splendid
fellow, and was already in high favour, and loudly applauded by the
spectators.
"_Bravo, toro! bravissimo_!" was heard on all sides. All eyes were now
turned upon the enraged animal, and his one remaining pursuer. Both
were still near enough to be well observed, for the chase had led
hitherto, not in one line, but in different directions over the plain;
so that the bull was actually no farther from the crowd than when first
overtaken by the dragoon. He was at this moment running in a cross
course, so that every movement of both pursuer and pursued could be well
observed from the stand.
At the first glance it was plain that the bull had now behind him the
handsomest horse and horseman upon the field--would they prove the best?
That was to be tried.
The horse was a large coal-black _mustang_, with a long full tail,
pointed at the tip, and carried like the brush of a running fox. Even
while in gallop, his neck slightly curved, and his proud figure,
displayed against the smooth sward, called forth expressions of
admiration.
The rider was a young man of twenty or over; and his light curling hair
and white-red complexion distinguished him from all his competitors--who
were, without exception, dark-skinned men. He was dressed in full
ranchero costume, with its rich broidery and trappings; and instead of
the usual "serape," he wore a purple _manga_--a more graceful, as well
as costlier garment. The long skirts of this he had flung behind him,
in order to have his arms free; and its folds, opening to the breeze,
added to the gracefulness of his carriage in the saddle.
The sudden appearance of this splendid horseman--for, hanging in the
rear with folded manga, he seemed not to have been noticed before,--
caused unusual attention, and many were heard inquiring his name.
"_Carlos the cibolero_!" cried a voice, loud enough to satisfy all at
once.
Some evidently knew who "Carlos the cibolero" was, though by far the
greater number on the ground did not. Of the former, one was heard
inquiring--
"Why hasn't he come up before?--He could have done so if he had wished."
"_Carrambo_! yes," added another. "He might have done so. He only hung
back to give the others a trial. He knew none of them could throw
_that_ bull. _Mira_!"
The speaker's conjecture was, no doubt, correct.
It was plain, at first sight, that this rider could easily overtake the
bull. His horse was still in a gentle gallop, and, though his ears were
set and his red nostrils staring open, it was only through the
excitement of the chase, and chafing at being hitherto checked. The
bridle-rein was, in fact, still tightly drawn.
As the speaker uttered the cautionary phrase "_Mira_!" a change was
suddenly observed in the manner of the horseman. He was about twenty
paces from the chase and directly in the rear. All at once his horse
sprang forward at double his former speed, and in a few stretches laid
himself alongside the bull. The rider was observed to grasp the long
outstretched tail, and then lean forward and downward. The next moment
he raised himself with a sudden jerk, and the huge horned creature
turned sprawling upon his back. The whole thing seemed to cost him no
more effort than if the bull had been a tom-cat. Loud "_vivas_!" broke
from the spectators, and the victorious horseman rode back in front of
the stand, modestly bowed his thanks, and then retired into the depth of
the crowd.
There were not wanting those who fancied that in bowing the eyes of the
cibolero were directed on the fair Catalina de Cruces; and some went so
far as to assert that she smiled and looked content; but that could not
be. The heiress of the rich Don Ambrosio smile to a compliment from a
cibolero!
There was one, however, who _did_ smile. That was a fair-haired,
fair-skinned girl, who stood upon one of the carretas, by the side of
which the victor had placed himself. Side by side those two faces
seemed one. They were of one blood,--one colour,--one race: were they
not brother and sister? Yes,--the fair girl was the sister of the
cibolero. She was smiling from happiness at the thought of her
brother's triumph.
A strange-looking woman was seated in the bottom of the carreta--an old
woman, with long flowing hair, white as flax. She was silent, but her
sharp eyes were bent upon the cibolero with a triumphant expression.
Some regarded her with curiosity, but most with fear, akin to awe.
These knew something of her, and whispered strange tales to one another.
"_Esta una bruxa_!--_una hechicera_!" (She is a witch! a charmer!) said
they.
This they muttered in low tones lest they might be heard by Carlos or
the girl. _She was their mother_!