Barton County democrat. [volume] (Great Bend, Kan.) 1885-1915, 1898-08-11
tance between herself and the around;


it is seven feet-quien sabei
She is trembling from her dainty
head down to her tiny, pink-bowed
Spanish slippers all the time that Gel
Largo" is torturing the furious, paw
ing bull with his sharp banderillas.
The gate swings open at last, and SCI
Largo" still leases the bull as SCI
Chatto' moves forward slowly, and
bows first to the president and then
to the public. In spite of his magnii-
cent silver and violet costume, the gold
lace, the red bullion trimming, with
capa of gold brocade, he looks deathly
nI-his face is white and drawn, and
under his eyes great black rings show,
that extend almost halfway down his
face. Everyone remarks it, and a for
eigner who has looked keenly at the
bull-fghter, says, sharply: THAT fell
low ought to drop out and go home;
he's in no condition to fighti"
But Sci Chatto'' is game, if he is sick
perhaps the presence of his wife in
spires him with fresh courage, for he
unsheathes his bright, keen sword.
mods briefly to Gel Largo" who gets
out of his way, smiles once at Lolita,
who is, beneath her mantilla, far
winter than he; then makes a tam
talizing movement at the bull.
That animal-one of the huge, fiery
Andalusians that are the very terror.
of Mexican bull-fghters on
with a roar of fury, head swinging
low to the ground, and the angry foam
flying. Gel Chatto" lodges, and places
himself nearer the wall to meet the
bulls return rush. On he comes again,
with an angry below, and ''E1 Chatto"
shakes his sword playfully in the
brute's face. as is the Spanish custom,
six or seven fancy passes, and then
the kill!
After all. no enc can fight bull as
does the Spanish matador. At least,
during Gel Chatto's" splendid work of
the next seven minutes, that is what
the people think. All of them are on
their feet, shrieking, some breathless
with delight! Silver dollars, and hats,
and flowers rain down into the ring,
but Gel Chatto" has not time to bow
his thanks; he is too busy parrying
the plunges of the Andalusian; ''furi-
ouser and furiouser," as Alice in Won
derland might say, the beast is making
it quick work for the matador.
On her feet, as is everybody else,
for that matter, Lolita is watching
every motion, her heart beating in
great leaps, and so excited and
wrought up now that she has forgotten
to feel afraid. y
Bull and matador are just IN
derneath her, and twice her husband
has glanced at her significantly; she
is watching with her heart in her eyes.
L.
eyes; one leap over his back; one pass
of the sword backward over the shout
der-now then, Dios help-a-h-h!
In the twinkling of an eye there
goes up from the thousands of people
loud groan of horror, pity, terror
they are all on their feet, watching.
For all in a second it happens; the
matador, suddenly Keeling, after a
fancy pass at the bull, has cast one
agonized look up at his wife, and fallen
prone ON the ground. The bull does
not see, for the furious impetus of his
last charge has taken him several
feet beyond the matador. At the lat
ter's side, on the ground, is the bright
sword, that now viii not save him. The
man was sick, unable to fight.
But before the people have we'll seen
that, however, there is a quick leap
and flash; a slight childish figure is
in the ring, her mantilla is cast back,
the pink rose has fallen into The dust;
her tiny, white hands have caught up
the sword. AS the QUILL swings madly
forward, she meets him. He is an
enormous beast, and to be on a line
even with his shoulder she has to rise
on tiptoe. She does it. Her face is
white and calm as the brute rushes at
her, lowering his head. She springs
forward and upward; the sword sinks
out of sight in the bleeding shoulder
no fancy passes for her!-ano the bull
topples over on his knees, the blood
gushing out in torrents. He is d dying
dead!
The mantilla is trampled into the
dust the pink rose is now faded, red
dened scrap, but the woman, her hands
blood-stained and her face white as
death, knows nothing about that. On
her knees, sobbing like baby, from
over-wrought passion and nervous
ness, she is holding her husbands un-
conscious head in her trembling arms.
AS for the popu1ace, they have
passed from horror-stricken silence
and terror into historical shouts.
screams, applause and even tears.
Every woman in the audience is weep
ing copiously, every man is shrieking
and stamping and applauding at the
top of his voice Gin his heart envying
the matador) as the girl, who has in
some mysterious way revived her hus-
band, rises to her feet, and the two
stand together for moment, bowling.
Then comes the exciting part of it,