Montes the Matador | Page 8

twentieth
year, by Juan's help, I got employed on trial one Sunday as a chulo.
* * *
"I suppose," Montes went on, after a pause, "I ought to have been
excited and nervous on that first Sunday--but I wasn't; I was only eager
to do well in order to get engaged for the season. The blacksmith,
Antonio, whom I had worked with, had advanced me the money for my
costume, and Juan had taken me to a tailor and got the things made, and
what I owed Antonio and the tailor weighed on me. Well, on that
Sunday I was a failure at first. I went in the procession with the rest,
then with the others I fluttered my capa; but when the bull rushed at me,
instead of running away, like the rest, I wrapped my capa about me and,
just as his horns were touching me, I moved aside--not half a pace. The
spectators cheered me, it is true, and I thought I had done very well,
until Juan came over to me, and said:
"'You mustn't show off like that. First of all, you'll get killed if you play
that game; and then you fellows with the capa are there to make the

bull run about, to tire him out so that we matadores may kill him.'
"That was my first lesson in professional jealousy. After that I ran
about like the rest, but without much heart in the sport. It seemed to me
stupid. Besides, from Juan's anger and contempt, I felt sure I shouldn't
get a permanent engagement. Bit by bit, however, my spirits rose again
with the exercise, and when the fifth or sixth bull came in I resolved to
make him run. It was a good, honest bull; I saw that at once; he stood in
the middle of the ring, excited, but not angry, in spite of the waving of
the capas all round him. As soon as my turn came, I ran forward, nearer
to him than the others had considered safe, and waved the challenge
with my capa. At once he rushed at it, and I gave him a long run, half
round the circle, and ended it by stopping and letting him toss the capa
which I held not quite at arm's length from my body. As I did this I
didn't turn round to face him. I knew he'd toss the capa and not me, but
the crowd rose and cheered as if the thing were extraordinary. Then I
felt sure I should be engaged, and I was perfectly happy. Only Juan said
to me a few minutes later:
"'You'll be killed, my boy, one of these fine days if you try those games.
Your life will be a short one if you begin by trusting a bull.'
"But I didn't mind what he said. I thought he meant it as a friendly
warning, and I was anxious only to get permanently engaged. And sure
enough, as soon as the games were over, I was sent for by the director.
He was kind to me, and asked me where I had played before. I told him
that was my first trial.
"'Ah!' he said, turning to a gentleman who was with him, 'I knew it,
Se–or Duque; such courage always comes from--want of experience,
let me call it.'
"'No,' replied the gentleman, whom I afterwards knew as the Duke of
Medina Celi, the best aficionado, and one of the noblest men in Spain;
'I'm not so sure of that. Why,' he went on, speaking now to me, 'did you
keep your back turned to the bull?'
"'Se–or,' I answered, ''twas an honest bull, and not angry, and I knew

he'd toss the capa without paying any attention to me.'
"'Well,' said the Duke, 'if you know that much, and aren't afraid to risk
your life on your knowledge, you'll go far. I must have a talk with you
some day, when I've more time; you can come and see me. Send in
your name; I shall remember.' And as he said this, he nodded to me and
waved his hand to the director, and went away.
"Then and there the director made me sign an engagement for the
season, and gave me one hundred duros as earnest money in advance of
my pay. What an evening we had after that! Juan, the tailor, Antonio
the blacksmith, and I. How glad and proud I was to be able to pay my
debts and still have sixty duros in my pocket after entertaining my
friends. If Juan had not hurt me every now and then by the way he
talked of my foolhardiness, I should have told them all I knew; but I
didn't. I only said I was engaged at