for that, they say, is a sign of valor. The
battles of the heroes are related. There, too, you will see many a
disappointed owner, with a sour face carrying out by the legs, a dead
rooster, stripped of its plumage--the animal which was a favorite
for months, petted, cared for day and night, and on which flattering
hopes had been founded: now, nothing more than a dead fowl, to be
sold for a peseta, stewed in ginger and eaten that very night. Sic
transit gloria mundi! The loser returns to his fire-side, where an
anxious wife and ragged children await him, without his little capital,
without his rooster. From all that gilded dream, from all the care of
months, from daybreak to sunset, from all those labors and fatigue,
from all that, results a peseta, the ashes left from so much smoke.

In this foyer, or vestibule, the most ignorant discuss the coming
contests; the most trifling, examine conscientiously the bird, weigh
it, contemplate it, extend its wings, feel of its muscles. Some of
the people are very well dressed, and are followed and surrounded by
the backers of their game cocks. Others, dirty, with the seal of vice
imprinted on their squalid faces, anxiously follow the movements of
the rich and watch their betting, for the pocketbook can be emptied
and the passion still be unsatisfied. There you see no face that is
not animated, no indolent Filipino; none apathetic, none silent. All
is movement, passion, eagerness.

From this place, one passes into the arena or rueda, as it is
called. The floor, inclosed by bamboos, is generally elevated higher
than the floor of the other two parts of the cock-pit. Running up
from the floor and almost touching the roof, are rows of seats for
the spectators or gamblers--they come to be the same. During the
combat these seats are filled with men and children who cry, shout,
perspire, quarrel, and blaspheme. Fortunately, scarcely any women visit
the cock-pit. In the rueda are the prominent men, the rich class,
the bettors, the bookmaker, and the referee. The cocks fight on the
ground, which is beaten down perfectly smooth, and there Destiny
distributes to families laughter or tears, feasts or hunger.

As we enter, we can see the gobernadorcillo, Captain Pablo, Captain
Basilio, and Lucas, the man with the scar on his face who was so
disconsolate over the death of his brother.

Captain Basilio approaches one of those present and asks him:

"Do you know what cock Captain Tiago is goi