The Doomswoman | Page 7

this
far strip of land, away from all other civilization. We should be more
contemptible than Indians if we were not true to our flag."
"No wonder that you and that famous patriot of ours, Doña Eustaquia
Ortega, are bonded friends. I doubt if you could hate as well as she.
You have no such violence in your nature; you could neither love nor
hate very hard. You would love (if you loved at all) with majesty and
serenity, and hate with chili severity." While he spoke he watched her
intently.
She met his gaze unflinchingly. "True, señor; I am no 'bundle of
shallow emotions,' nor have I a lion in me, like Eustaquia. I am a
creature of deliberation, not of impulse: I love and hate as duty
dictates."
"You are by nature the most impulsive woman I ever saw," he said,
much amused, "and Eustaquia's lion is a kitten to the one that sleeps in
you. You have cold deliberation enough, but it is manufactured, and the
result of pretty hard work at that. Like all edifices reared without a
foundation, it will fall with a crash some day, and the fragments will be
of very little use to you." And there the conversation ended: they had
reached the plaza, and a babel of voices surrounded them. Governor
Alvarado stood on the upper corridor of his house, throwing handfuls
of small gold coins among the people, who were shrieking with delight.
The girl guests mingled with them, seeing that no palm went home
empty. Beside the governor sat Doña Martina, radiant with pride, and
behind her stood the nurse, holding the infant on its pillow.
"We had better go to the house as soon as possible," said Estenega. "It
is nearly time for the bull-bear fight, and we must have good seats."

They forced their way through the crowd, dismounted at the door, and
went up to the corridor. The Castros and I were already there, with a
number of other invited guests. The women sat in chairs, close to the
corridor railing; several rows of men stood behind them.
The plaza was a jagged circle surrounded by dwelling-houses, some
one story in height, others with overhanging balconies; from it radiated
five streets. All corridors were crowded with the elegantly-dressed men
and women of the aristocracy; large black fans were waving; every eye
was flashing expectantly; the people stood on platforms which had
been erected in four of the streets.
Amidst the shouts of the spectators, two vaqueros, dressed in black
velvet short-clothes, dazzling linen, and stiff black sombreros, tinkling
bells attached to their trappings, jingling spurs on their heels, galloped
into the plaza, driving a large aggressive bull. They chased him about
in a circle, swinging their reatas, dodging his onslaughts, then rode out,
and four others entered, dragging an unwilling bear by a reata tied to
each of its legs. By means of a long chain and much dexterity they
fastened the two beasts together, freed the legs of the bear, then retired
to the entrance to await events. But the bull and the bear would not
fight. The latter arose on his haunches and regarded his enemy warily;
the bull appeared to disdain the bear as too small game; he but lowered
his horns and pawed the ground. The spectators grew impatient. The
brave caballeros and dainty doñas wanted blood. They tapped their feet
and murmured ominously. As for the populace, it howled for slaughter.
Governor Alvarado made a sign to one of the vaqueros; the man rushed
abruptly upon the bull and hit him a sharp blow across the nose with
the cruel quirto. The bull's dignity vanished. With the quadrupedian
capacity for measuring distance, he inferred that the blow had been
inflicted by the bear, who sat some twenty feet away, mildly licking his
paws. He made a savage onset. The bear, with the dexterity of a
vaquero, leaped aside and sprang upon the assailant's neck, his teeth
meeting argumentatively in the rope-like tendons. The bull roared with
pain and rage and attempted to shake him off, but he hung on; both lost
their footing and rolled over and over amidst clouds of dust, a mighty
noise, and enough blood to satisfy the early thirst of the beholders.

Then the bull wrenched himself free; before the mountain visitor could
scramble to his feet, he fixed him with his horns and tossed him on
high. As the bear came down on his back with a thud and a snap which
would have satisfied a bull less anxious to show what a bull could do,
the victor rushed upon the corpse, kicked and stamped and bit until the
blood spouted into his eyes, and pulp and dust were indistinguishable.
Then how the delighted spectators clapped their hands