rup. For an instant he stood like a breathing statue, with
nostrils wide and ears thrown back, wild with fright; and then,
catching sight of the bull, he sprang clear of the ground, and dashed
off at full speed around the ring, dragging after him the luckless
picador. Around he went, senseless and helpless, his whole body grimed
with dirt, and with no more life in it, apparently, than in a mere log
of wood. At every bound it seemed as if the horse must strike his hind
hoofs into his forehead. A cold shudder ran through the spectators. The
man was a favourite; he had friends and relatives present, and
everybody knew his name. A deep murmur of "_El Pobre_" burst from every
bosom. I felt actually lifted from my seat, and the president of the
Life and Trust would not have given a policy upon him for any premium.
The picadores looked on aghast; the bull was roaming loose in the ring,
perhaps the only indifferent spectator. My own feelings were roused
against his companions, who, after what seemed an age of the rack,
keeping a special good lookout upon the bull, at length started in
pursuit with lazos, caught the horse around the neck, and brought him
up headlong. The picadores extricated their fallen companion, and
carried him out. His face was so begrimed with dirt that not a feature
was visible; but, as he was borne across the ring, he opened his eyes,
and they seemed starting from his head with terror.

He was hardly out of the ring when a hoarse cry ran through the
spectators, "_a pie! a pie!_" "on foot! on foot!" The picadores
dismounted and attacked the bull fiercely on foot, flourishing their
ponchas. Almost at the first thrust he rushed upon one of his
adversaries, tumbled him down, passed over his body, and walked on
without even turning round to look at him. He too was picked up and
carried off.

The attack was renewed, and the bull became roused. In a few moments he
brought another picador to the ground, and, carried on by his own
impetus, passed over the body, but, with a violent effort, recovered
himself, and turned short round upon his prostrate prey, glared over
him for a moment with a low bellow, almost a howl, and, raising his
fore feet a little from the ground, so as to give full force to the
blow, thrust both horns into the stomach of the fallen picador.
Happily, the points were sawed off; and, furious at not being able to
gore and toss him, he got one horn under the picador's sash, lifted
him, and dashe