A BULL FIGHT AT SANTA CRUZ.

Waikato Argus, Volume IV, Issue 288, 14 May 1898, Page 1 (Supplement)

A BULL FIGHT AT SANTA CRUZ.

It was two o clock in the afternoon, end fiercely hot, when wo treaded through an eager crowd, moving beneuth tho lines of flags, which everhung the scorching streets towards the "Plaza de fcTOS," or bull-ting. Half the city seemed to be progressing that way, and from every flat-topped roof and green shuttered window laughing faces looked down, and merry voices exchanged badinage with the throng below. There is no doubt that the Lintin races can enjoy themselves heartily, in a manner unknown to the North, for among them all we heard no uncivil word, nor saw any signs of drunkenness. ....

Baying two dollars ahead, we eutered the bull-ring, and seated ourselves " en la som'ora," or on the shady side. Imagine an immense ci/cular building, open to the sky. and surrounding a central arena on the model of a .Roman amphitheatre, and you have a " plaza de toros"—they are all the same from Madrid to Mexico. The strangely diversified groups that poured steadily in would have repuid a visit alone. There were peasants from the volcanic heights, attired in unstarched linen garments, which reached only to the knee, with raw hide sandals on their naked feet, each one carrying a massy blanket, the dearest made in England, rolled about their shoulders. This cost the wearer two months earnings, and lasts a lifetime—he never goes anywhere without it, and .staunchly resists the temptation to buy one "made iu Germany" at a third of the cost The shrill call of a bugle ran? through the heated air, and the murmur of many many voice became suddenly still as the the great doors swung open, and the gorgeous troupe or " cuaderilla," rode into the ling. The scene was a kaleidos' copic change of colour. Man after man dressed in gorgeous silks, with crimson, green, or yellow cloak fluttering behind him, filed in, and the biawny chests of the leaders were covered from neck to waist with jewels. Many of these gems were the gifts ol governors and deputies, for in Spain and her colonies a successful bull-fighter is much better paid than a prime minister—and considerably more respected.

After the Governor had bowed in answer to the salute of raised lances, and thrown down the keys, which the " maestro" caught, tbe troupe withdrew all save two men and a few attendants. The former was swathed from waist to ankle in leather, and mounted on worn, out, blind-folded horses, while the latter stood beside the circular barricades, with brilliant hued cloaks in their hands. A sudden hush fell upon the immense multitude, and the dry rustle of palm fronds outside came sharply through the stillness, as the first picador rode slowly iuto the centre of the glaring, sunlit arena. Some one cried " Listo ?" and with a bellow of rage, a tawny, Andalusian bull, bred from fighting pedigree and rendered furious through huuger and dark comfinement, bounded into the ring. For a few rr.omonts it stood half-bliadcd, pawing up the sand, and then loweriug its long, keen horns leapt forward, straight for the mounted man. Tho writer fancied he could hear the crowd in a deep breath as the picador drew himself up and sat stiffly erect, holding the lance before him. The trenchant steel met the charging bull square in the shoulder, but the point leing designed to torture, not kill, only ploughed a deep groove acro»s its neck, and roaring savagely while its shoulders dripped blood, the furious beast charged on. The man made a futile effort to wheel his steed aside, but the poor jade was not intended for a display of horsemanship—it was only there to be killed. Next moment, hoise and rider went down together before a blow like that o' a battering ram, and there would speedily have been an end of both but that an attendant leapt past the bull, and waved a crimson cloak before its eyes. The second picador, wisely for himself, kept near the barricade, and when the bull charged him furiously endeavoured to avoid the rush. He was too late, however. The keen horns slid into the side of the wretched horse, somewhere beneath the siirrup leathers, and both were hurled bodily against the timbering. The man grasped at the topmost rail, and dragged himself across, amid the howls and groans of the spectators, who would gladly have seen him killed; while the bull proceeded to gore and trample the life out of the helpless steed until a capero drew it away with his cloak. Meanwhile, the attendants had been busy plugging the streaming wounds of the first bursa with straw and tow —a custom common enough—and now they proceed to urge it forward by stabs and blows, the rider, whose face was asheygrey, swaying in his saddle. There was good reason for this -as we afterwards heard—two of his ribs had been broken in the previous encounter. When the bull charged he met it pluckily with the lance, but the shaft snapped like a pine stem, and the next moment the pair were dashed one nbove the other to the ground. The man lay very quiet and still until he was dragged away, while in spite of the efforts of the caperos the bull btamped the horse into a shapeless, quivering heap. Then the Governor raised his hand, a bugle announced that scene one was over, and some of the British spectators felt curiously cold and sick " Get me out for heaven's sake— I've seen enough !" said one who was visiting the Islands for his health, but every passage way was blocked, and we were hemmed iu hard and fast. One of tho most striking things about the whole scene was the way in which women and young children—and there were many ladies of station among them —smiled and clapped their hands in delight at the most revolting incidents. Their plaudits, also, were mostly lavished upon the bull, and they seemed strangely indifferent to the fate of the man who risked life and limb for their amusement. The capero scene, however, is always the worst, for it is a mere dis* play of butchery, and almost devoid of skill. ___________