The sports continue. The bull thrown by the cibolero, now cowed, walks
moodily across the plain. He would not serve for a second run, so he is
lazoed and led off,--to be delivered to the victor as his prize.
A second is brought forth and started, with a fresh dozen of horsemen at
his heels.
These seem to be better matched, or rather the bull has not run off so
well, as all overtake him at once, riding past him in their headlong
speed. Most unexpectedly the animal turns in his tracks, and runs back,
heading directly for the stand!
Loud screams are heard from the poblanas in the carretas--from the
senoras and senoritas. No wonder. In ten seconds the enraged brute
will be in their midst!
The pursuing horsemen are still far behind him. The sudden turning in
their headlong race threw them out of distance. Even the foremost of
them cannot come up in time.
The other horsemen are all dismounted. No man on foot will dare to
check the onward rush of a goaded bull!
Confusion and loud shouting among the men, terror and screaming among
the women, are the characteristics of the scene. Lives will be lost--
perhaps many. None know but that they themselves may be the victims!
The strings of carretas filled with their terrified occupants flank the
stand on each side; but, running farther out into the plain, form with
it a sort of semicircle. The bull enters this semicircle, and guided by
the carretas rushes down, heading directly for the benches, as though
determined to break through in that direction. The ladies have risen to
their feet, and, half-frantic, seem as though they would leap down upon
the very horns of the monster they dread! It is a fearful crisis for
them.
Just at this moment a man is seen advancing, lazo in hand, in front of
the carretas. He is afoot. As soon as he has detached himself from the
crowd, he spins the lazo round his head, and the noose shooting out is
seen to settle over the horns of the bull.
Without losing a moment the man runs to a small tree that stands near
the centre of the semicircle, and hastily coils the other end of the
lazo around its trunk. Another moment, and he would have been too late.
The knot is scarcely tied, when a heavy pluck announces that the bull
has reached the end of his rope, and the foiled brute is now seen thrown
back upon his hips, with the _lazo_ tightly noosed over his horns. He
has fallen at the very feet of the spectators!
"_Bravo! viva_!" cried a hundred voices, as soon as their owners had
sufficiently recovered from their terror to call out.
"_Viva. Viva_! Carlos the cibolero!"
It was he who had performed this second feat of skill and daring.
The bull was not yet conquered, however. He was only confined within a
certain range--the circle of the lazo--and, rising to his feet, with a
furious roar he rushed forward at the crowd. Fortunately the lazo was
not long enough to enable him to reach the spectators on either side;
and again he tumbled back upon his haunches. There was a scattering on
all sides, as it was feared he might still slip the noose; but the
horsemen had now come up. Fresh lazoes were wound about his neck,
others tripped up his legs, and he was at length flung violently upon
the ground and his quarters well stretched.
He was now completely conquered, and would run no more; and as but two
bulls had been provided for the occasion, the "coleo de toros" was for
that day at an end.
Several lesser feats of horsemanship were next exhibited, while
preparations were being made for another of the grand games of the day.
Those were by way of interlude, and were of various kinds. One was
throwing the lazo upon the foot of a person running at full speed,
noosing him around the ankle, and of course tripping him up. This was
done by men both mounted and afoot; and so many accomplished it, that it
could hardly be deemed a "feat:" nor was it regarded as such among the
more skilful, who disdained to take part in it.
Picking up the hat was next exhibited. This consisted in the rider
throwing his hat upon the ground, and then recovering it from the
saddle, while his horse swept past at full gallop. Nearly every rider
on the spot was equal to this feat, and only the younger ones looked
upon it as a proof of skill. Of these some twenty could now be seen
wheeling about at a gallop and ducking down for their sombreros, which
they had previously dropped.
But it is not so easy to pick up smaller objects, and a piece of coin
lying flat upon the ground tries the skill of the best "cavallero."
The Comandante Vizcarra now stepped forth and commanded silence.
Placing a Spanish dollar upon the smooth turf, he called out--
"This to the man who can take it up at the first trial. Five gold onzas
that Sergeant Gomez will perform the feat!"
There was silence for a while. Five gold "onzas" (doubloons) was a
large sum of money. Only a "rico" could afford to lose such a sum.
After a pause, however, there came a reply. A young ranchero stepped
forth:--
"Colonel Vizcarra," said he, "I will not bet that Sergeant Gomez cannot
perform the feat; but I'll wager there's another on the ground can do it
as well as he. Double the amount if you please."
"Name your man!" said Vizcarra.
"Carlos the cibolero."
"Enough--I accept your wager. Any one else may have their trial,"
continued Vizcarra, addressing the crowd. "I shall replace the dollar
whenever it is taken up--only one attempt, remember!"
Several made the attempt and failed. Some touched the coin, and even
drew it from its position, but no one succeeded in lifting it.
At length a dragoon mounted on a large bay appeared in the list, who was
recognised as the Sergeant Gomez. He was the same that had first come
up with the bull, but failed to fling him; and no doubt that failure
dwelling still in his thoughts added to the natural gloom of his very
sallow face. He was a man of large size, unquestionably a good rider,
but he lacked that symmetrical shape that gives promise of sinewy
activity.
The feat required little preparation. The sergeant looked to his
saddle-girths, disencumbered himself of his sabre and belts, and then
set his steed in motion.
In a few minutes he directed his horse so as to shave past the shining
coin, and then, bending down, he tried to seize it. He succeeded in
lifting it up from the ground; but, owing to the slight hold he had
taken, it dropped from his fingers before he had got it to the height of
the stirrup.
A shout, half of applause and half of disapprobation, came from the
crowd. Most were disposed to favour him on Vizcarra's account. Not
that they loved Colonel Vizcarra, but they _feared_ him, and that made
them loyal.
The cibolero now rode forth upon his shining black. All eyes were
turned upon him. His handsome face would have won admiration, but for
its very _fairness_. Therein lay a secret prejudice. They knew _he was
not of their race_!
Woman's heart has no prejudice, however; and along that line of
dark-eyed "doncellas" more than one pair of eyes were sparkling with
admiration for the blond "Americano," for of such race was Carlos the
cibolero.
Other eyes than woman's looked favourably on the cibolero, and other
lips murmured applause. Among the half-brutalised Tagnos, with bent
limbs and downcast look, there were men who dreamt of days gone by; who
knew that their fathers were once free; who in their secret assemblies
in mountain cave, or in the deep darkness of the "estufa," still burned
the "sacred fire" of the god Quetzalcoatl--still talked of Moctezuma and
Freedom.
These, though darker than all others, had no prejudice against the fair
skin of Carlos. Even over their benighted minds the future had cast
some rays of its light. A sort of mysterious presentiment, apparently
instinctive, existed among them, that their deliverers from the yoke of
Spanish tyranny would yet come from the East--from beyond the great
plains!
The cibolero scarce deigned to make any preparation. He did not even
divest himself of his manga, but only threw it carelessly back, and left
its long skirt trailing over the hips of his horse.
Obedient to the voice of his rider, the animal sprang into a gallop; and
then, guided by the touch of the knees, he commenced circling round the
plain, increasing his speed as he went.
Having gained a wide reach, the rider directed his horse towards the
glittering coin. When nearly over it he bent down from the saddle,
caught the piece in his fingers, flung it up into the air, and then,
suddenly checking his horse underneath, permitted it to drop into his
outstretched palm!
All this was done with the ease and liability of a Hindoo juggler. Even
the prejudiced could not restrain their applause; and loud _vivas_ for
"Carlos the cibolero" again pealed upon the air.
The sergeant was humiliated. He had for a long time been victor in
these sports--for Carlos had not been present until this day, or had
never before taken part in them. Vizcarra was little better pleased.
His favourite humbled--himself the loser of ten golden onzas--no small
sum, even to the Comandante of a frontier Presidio. Moreover, to be
jibed by the fair senoritas for losing a wager he had himself
challenged, and which, no doubt, he felt certain of winning. From that
moment Vizcarra liked not "Carlos the cibolero."
The next exhibition consisted in riding at full gallop to the edge of a
deep "zequia" which passed near the spot. The object of this was to
show the courage and activity of the rider as well as the high training
of the steed.
The zequia--a canal used for irrigation--was of such width that a horse
could not well leap over it, and deep enough to render it no very
pleasant matter for a horseman to get into. It therefore required both
skill and daring to accomplish the feat. The animal was to arrive upon
the bank of the canal in full run, and to be drawn up suddenly, so that
his four feet should rest upon the ground inside a certain line. This
line was marked at less than two lengths of himself from the edge of the
drain. Of course the bank was quite firm, else the accomplishment of
such a feat would have been impossible.
Many succeeded in doing it to perfection; and an admirable piece of
horsemanship it was. The horse, suddenly checked in his impetuous
gallop, upon the very brink of the zequia, and drawn back on his
haunches, with head erect, starting eyeballs, and open smoking nostrils,
formed a noble picture to look upon. Several, however, by way of
contrast, gave the crowd a ludicrous picture to laugh at. These were
either faint-hearted riders, who stopped short before arriving near the
bank, or bold but unskilful ones, who overshot the mark, and went plunge
into the deep muddy water. Either class of failure was hailed by groans
and laughter, which the appearance of the half-drowned and dripping
cavaliers, as they weltered out on the bank, rendered almost continuous.
On the other hand, a well-executed manoeuvre elicited _vivas_ of
applause.
No wonder that, under such a system of training and emulation, these
people are the finest riders in the world, and such they certainly are.
It was observed that Carlos the cibolero took no part in this game.
What could be the reason? His friends alleged that he looked upon it as
unworthy of him. He had already exhibited a skill in horsemanship of a
superior kind, and to take part in this would be seeking a superfluous
triumph. Such was in fact the feeling of Carlos.
But the chagrined Comandante had other views. Captain Roblado as well--
for the latter had seen, or fancied he had seen, a strange expression in
the eyes of Catalina at each fresh triumph of the cibolero. The two
"militarios" had designs of their own. Base ones they were, and
intended for the humiliation of Carlos. Approaching him, they inquired
why he had not attempted the last feat.
"I did not think it worth while," answered the cibolero, in a modest
tone.
"Ho!" cried Roblado, tauntingly; "my good fellow. You must have other
reasons than that. It is not so contemptible a feat to rein up on the
edge of that `zanca.' You fear a ducking, I fancy?"
This was uttered in a tone of banter, loud enough for all to hear; and
Captain Roblado wound up his speech with a jeering laugh.
Now, it was just this ducking that the militarios wished to see. They
had conceived hopes, that, if Carlos attempted the feat, some accident,
such as the slipping or stumbling of his horse, might lead to that
result; which to them would have been as grateful as it would have been
mortifying to the cibolero. A man floundering out of a muddy ditch, and
drenched to the skin, however daring the attempt that led to it, would
cut but a sorry figure in the eyes of a holiday crowd; and in such a
situation did they wish to see Carlos placed.
Whether the cibolero suspected their object did not appear. His reply
does not show. When it was heard, the "zequia" and its muddy water were
at once forgotten. A feat of greater interest occupied the attention of
the spectators.