alled corral, liberated by the quick knife of one of
the vaqueros, who sprang through the door just in time to save himself.

There was an angry guest on the ranch that night. The bear's lungs,
which were of the best, had little repose, and he flung himself against
the earth walls of the corral until they quivered with the impact. The
horses in the neighbouring corrals whinnied; the cows in the fields
bellowed. It was a vocal night, and few slept.

Nevertheless everybody was excited and good-natured next morning.
Immediately after breakfast they went out to the corral, and by means
of a ladder mounted the wall and stood on the broad summit. At a signal
from Don Emilio a vaquero opened the gate cautiously and drove in a
large bull, who had been carefully irritated since sunrise.

The two unamiable beasts, glad of an object to vent their spleen upon,
flew at each other. The bear, giant as he was, was ignominiously rolled
in the dust by the furious onslaught of bulk and horns. He recovered
himself with surprising alacrity, however, and rushed at the bull. The
latter, off guard for the moment, and struggling for his lost breath,
was hurled on his back. He rolled over quickly, but before he could
gather his legs under him, the bear sat himself squarely upon the heavy
flanks. The bull jerked up his head, his eyes injected, his tongue
rolling out. The bear raised one of his mighty paws and dealt him a box
on the ear. The head fell with an ugly thud on the hard floor of the
corral. The bear adjusted himself comfortably and licked his paws.

On the wall the onlookers were far more excited than the gladiators in
the arena. The Perezes sympathised with their personal property, but
Roldan and Adan felt that the bear was their menagerie, and that their
honour was at stake. Party feeling ran very high. Roldan and Benito
were twice separated by their anxious elders.

"Ay! yi!" cried Carlos. "The bull wakes."

The poor bull, in truth, despite the crushing weight on his vitals,
raised his head again, shook himself feebly, and was once more boxed
into unconsciousness. The side of his face was crushed; his body was
slowly flattening. The family encouraged him with tears and spirit.

"Ay, Ignacio, Ignacio, my poor one!" cried Don Jose. "Arouse thyself
and kill the brute. Ay! thou wert so beautiful, so elegant, thy sleek
sides like the satin of Dona Theresa--and he like a wild man that has
never washed. Where is thy pride, Ignacio? Ar