The examiner. [volume] (Louisville, Ky.) 1847-1849, 1849-12-01


want touches him with bat or STICK, and II I
the sound cf shouting he comes forth
Perhaps his head is at the very front, and |
then the 'mozo' has Just time to step into
his niche behind the door, pull it back over |
him, and save his life. The bull sees, first, |
the gay cloaks of the 'chulos' and PUSHES
at them. Their owners leap the barrier.
and leave him the red muslin. He turns
around, and then, for the first time, takes
notice OF the 'picadores.' If be remembers
the sharp pricking Of the herdsman's goad, |
he pauses in the centre Of the ring TO make |
bis calculations. Most generally, madden
ed by the shouting of the populaee. and
almost blind with rage, he thunders at the
hofseman. They brace themselves to meet
him, with spear in rest, and slesdied by the
pressure Of the arm. The horse is turned
half round, with his right shoulder to the
bull, and the art is, to press the-bull of
TO the right, while with the bridle-hand
they bring the horse round TO the left, and
save him and themselves. And certainly
it is q splendid show Of courage, strength,
End skll, when the brave horseman who is
hrst attacked, turns the foe off successfully,
the second welcomes him with equal for
tune, and the third has no worse lack
But when, as often happens, The desperate
charge has been too much even for skill
and nerve, and spite Of lance and horse
msnship. the bull has gored the vitals Of the
beast, and, lifting him madly, with his H.
L dor toasaa both against the aa.fh ar barrier.
or when, though well turned Off at first, in
stead OF going on from 'picsdor' to plea
DOR the bull attacks The rear Of the poor
horse, as he retIeats-drsgs out his bowels;
filings the rider forward, and uamples in his
fury upon both-the scene is frighliul to an
unfamiliar eye. Then it is the 'chulos'
must come forward TO the hOTseman's res
cue, and, with their trailing cloaks draw
off the bull to where another 'Picador' is
waiting TO receive him.
Ii may be that the fallen 'picador' is
stunned. Perhaps his iron sheathing pre-
vents him from getting himself MD Of horse
and saddle. Assistants gather TO his aid
then, while others cheat the bull away
Sometimes the 'picador' falls towards the
barrier. and, catching at it as be tumbles,
lets his stiTups go, and with his strong arm
swings himself into the 'coHedor,' while
the bull wreaks his fury on the fallen
horse. Sometimes, rushing from 'picador
to 'Picador.' the bull prosuates al three,
and then the whole arena is alive with hut
lering cloaks-the active 'chulos' tolling
the animal from SIDE TO side, up to the
very barrier, which they leap over, some
times not more than half a foot before his
horns. The greater the slaughter Of
horses and overthrow Of riders, the Louder
is the shouting Of the people, and the
wilder their applause. Let the plea
dors' fight shy for but single moment
let there be delay, the slightest, in the
forthcoming Of new horses TO supply the
Iplaces Of the slain--and the fierce cry goes
up, Of "tiorses, horses to the bulll' Goa
ballos! caballos al toro) When the bull,
moment left ungoaded, turns upon his
fallen foes, and cores and losses them or
their poor carcasses, the very welkin rings
with screams Of pleasure and excitement,
and the animal becomes hero fof the mo
meni!
New horses are at hand. The plea
dores, perhaps, persuaded by the manager
to be little careful Of their hOrse-hesh, or
battered into caution and chsry Of their
bones. hang back. Ii may be that the bail
himself, sick OF the spear, and tired with
~oin Putsuii OF the Acct 'ohuiOs,' stands
paving the centre Of the ring, or, with
head down to the ground. goes backward
from his foes. Up then there goes again
the cry. al toro! caballos al toIo! obliga-
To- Oorce himD The 'picador,' excited,
moves his teHied, perhaps already wounded
animal, up toward the bull, waving his
lance, or boldly pricking The poor devil on
the nose or forehead Then there is an
other charge, and probably a dangerous
ore, for the 'picadOr' is in the midst Of the
arena, far from the barrier, and has no me.
thOd Of escape, if he is thrown, except to
creep upon his hands and knees, and trust
the dexterous 'chulos' 10 keep the bull
away. Lucky he who can escape such
peril. But the sport begins to flag. The
neck and shoulders Of the bull are red with
traces Of the spear-point. His tongue pro-
trudes, and he is tardy at the charge. The
Alcalde waves BIS handkerchiel-the trum.
pet sounds-the 'picsdores,' retiring to the
barrier, now fly before the bull as he ap-
Proaches, for their part OF the performance
has been ended.
The 'banderillelOs' come next upon the
stage. They are the same whom | have
called the 'chulos,' and they take the for
mer name from tie 'banderillss, with which
II is their business to torment the animal.
These are wooden rods, some two feet long,
pointed with an iron barb. The rods them
selves are covered and bedecked with les
ICONS OF cut, colored paper. When the
signal is given, bundles OF these are brought
into the arena, and the performer takes one
in each hand. l( the bull has been COW.
ard or >luggard, the crowd cry, 'fuego!
tuego! (hrsl 6Ie.) and they bring in ban
deTIllas, 10 the barbs Of which are fixed
fre-crackers, which explode and hiss on
the poor brute as the barb enters, scorching
and maldening him. The 'chulo's' bust
ness is to plant one 'banderilla' upon each
side OF the neck or shoulders, equidistantI
from the central line, as near as may be.
and this, OF course. demands no little skill.
One Of the performers fourishes his cloak
and wins the bulls attention. The other,
L. i i