he bull, as soon as
ever he caught sight of the horses, made straight for the grey.
Maddened by the shouts of the people and the cloaks of the "chulos,"
his charge was not a light one, and he buried his horns deep in the
poor brute's flank, the picador meanwhile scooping a large piece of
flesh out of his back with his garrocha. Maddened and exasperated, he
then made for the brown, this time fortunately missing him, only,
however, to reserve the poor beast for a worse fate. Another furious
charge now unhorsed the picador, at which the chulos leaped into the
ring, and distracted the bull's attention with their red cloths while
the fallen picador scrambled over the barrier into safety, a feat
which his heavy accoutrements rendered by no means easy.
The trumpets now sounded for the approach of the banderilleros, while
the horses were led away out of sight, to be patched up for the
succeeding engagement; a quantity of sand was thrown over the blood
stains, which were pretty numerous throughout the arena. The
banderilleros were three in number, and smart, dapper, little fellows,
beautifully dressed in light blue satin and gold. Each was armed with
the _banderillo_, small barbed darts, about a foot long, ornamented
with coloured paper. Their duty is to go straight up to the bull,
facing him, and as soon as he stoops his head to charge them, stick
their barbs, one on each side of his neck, and slip aside. This seemed
to be the most graceful feat of the day, and one requiring nearly as
much nerve as that of the "espada," whose arrival a final flourish of
trumpets now announced.
The espada, or man of death, now stands _alone_ with his victim, and
having bowed to the royal box, he throws his _montero_, or cap, among
the audience, and swears to do his duty. In his right hand is the long
Toledan blade _la espada_, while in his left he holds the _muleta_, or
small red flag about a foot square, which is his weapon of defence,
and on the skill of using which his safety depends. The now maddened
bull's first tactic was to charge furiously at the red flag, which the
espada held at arm's length, and so wonderfully skilled was Frascuelo
that he never moved an inch, while the animal rushed by him beneath
his arm. Gradually decoying him along the edge of the ring with the
_muleta_, Frascuelo paused in front of the royal box with his victim,
and played him for a while, preparing in the meantime to give him the
_coup de grace_. This is don
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