Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1889-04-24

~ ONSA tAA4A ~ AAO ~ NA0 RNOb1Sg LIN
bull rushes from his darkened cell into
the ring. He looks round him; for a
moment he paws the ground, then, led
on by the moving cloak of one Of the
matadors, he charges. A graceful bend
of the body and a slight movement to
n side, and the bull has passed his
quarry, who stands untouched and smil-
ing behind him; again he charges
three times he charges in quick sue
cession-but his horns touch nothing
more solid than the crimson cloak,
which waves above his head each time
as he passes the matador. For a mo-
ment "toro' stands as if stupefed, then
espies a larger and safer bait, and with
a fearful rush lifts horse and picador
into the air. hurting them to the ground
however, and while the picador is be-
ing helped to his feet and the attend
ants are unsaddling the horse, fast
bleeding to death with a wound in it's
side, they call off the bull by waving
their cloaks and keeping his attention
fixed on themselves. He is a good bull.
The people are delighted. "Bravo,
ioro !" they cry. "Bravissimo %
Another horse falls dead, the third is
wounded and led out, the fourth killed;
but the Spaniards are not satisfied in
their love of blood.
"Mas caballos mas caballos ~ they
cry-even the two little children with
their mother cry "Mas caballos |" An
other is led in and killed. Then the
bugle sounds, and the second part of the
performance commences.
Two Of the matadOrs step to the side
of the arena, leaving their cloaks, and
taking in each hand a banderillo-a
wooden stick about eighteen inches
long, with a metal forked point, the
whole covered with gay colored paper
and ribbons. They step into the center
of the ring, and, poising themselves on
tlptoe, holding the banderillos far
above their heads at arms length, face
the bull. A moment the now furious
beast pauses, then with a charge makes
for one of his adversaries; for a second
all is q cloud of dust, in which the ad-
vancing forms of bull and man are
scarcely discernible; the next, the bull
Is believing round the ring with the
points of the banderillos fast in his
shoulders, and the banderillos is smil-
ing and bowling unscathed. There is no
Four times does he receive the sharp
forked points, and four times does ne
miss bis man.
The bugle sounds.
Sebastian, who up till this time has
gazed in a careless way at the scene.
steps forward, takes the sword and the
flag, and with a gallant stride marches
to the administrators box, where he
swears to kill the bull.
There is a deafening cheer as he
throws his hat among the people, to be
held till he returns victorious-or dead.
[ turn instinctively toward Juanita;
she wa leaning back in her seat, slowly
tanning herself, her half-closed eyes
scarcely conveying an expression of in
terest n the proceedings.
Sebastian faces the bull, the flag in
his left hand, his eyes watching the
beasts. His hand is as steady as a
rock.
The bull charges; I drew a quick
breath; Sebastian is all right: gracefully,
with the ease Of a practiced bull fighter,
he escaped the horns which merely
touched the scarlet flag.
A cheer rings out from the crowd,
bringing a flush to his cheek.
Again the bull charges, again and
again; each time Sebastian is unscatheG,
but as vet he has had no chance of kill
ing the bull. He is facing it now; slow
ly he raises the sword-the point never
trembles. For one second all is dust,
the next | saw his manly form laid out
full length in the sand.
Accustomed as I am to bull fights, [
shuddered.
"He is killed % cry the people .ehe
is killed. % The bull never looks at
him again, passing on to attack the
cloak ofone of the matadors. | gazed
at Juanita once more. Her expression
has not altered to the least degree; her
fan merely vibrates a little quicker. /
hated that woman.
A shout from the people recalls my
attention. Sebastian has risen, picked
up the sword and flag, and is facing the
bull to death. Again the sword is
raised, again all is dust, again a form
lies PROSTATE in the sand-but this time
it is the bull Sebastian has killed it at
n stroke, a feat seldom accomplished
by even the masters of art.
Never have I heard such a shout as
rang through and through the building
as Sebastian approached the gobernador
and bowed. He is paler than ever, but
a smile of victory lights up his lips.
Then, sword In hand, he turned and ap-
preached and faced Juan1ta, his dark
eyes gazing into her face. His ex-
preston is the same as ever; as he bows
to her, she never alters a feature.
There is no smile of encouragement,
scarcely a sign of recognition; she
plucks a rose, however, from her breast
and throws it to him.
He stoops and picks it up, and with
his eyes fixed on hers, lifts it toward
his lips-hesitates-throws it to the
ground, and tramples it under foot.
A deafening cheer arises from the
crowd-cheer upon cheer.
l look for Juanita. She has left the
ring.
Five minutes later, as Sebastian
passed through the archway into the
open air, still in his scarlet and gold,
a dagger was buried deep in his breast.
l saw Juanita do it, and it was the
only time l ever saw her smile.