with such a roar that the Indian women screamed
and even the men shuffled their feet uneasily. But
neither combatant was interested in aught but the
other. The one sought to gore, his enemy to strike
or hug. The vaqueros teased them with arrows
and cries, the dust flew; for a few moments there
was but a heaving, panting, lashing bulk in the
middle of the arena, and then the bull, his tongue
torn out, rolled on his back, and another was driven
in before the victor could wreak his unsated ven-
geance among the spectators. The bear, dragging
the dead bull, rushed at the living, who, unmartial
at first, stiffened to the defensive as he saw a bulk
of wiry fur set with eyes of fire, almost upon him.
He sprang aside, lowered his horn and caught the
bear in the chest. But the victor was a compact
mass of battle and momentum. His onslaught
flung the bear over backward, and quickly disen-
gaging himself he made another leap at his equally
agile enemy. This time the battle was longer and
more various, for the bull was smaller, more active
and dexterous. Twice he almost had the bear on his
horns, but was rolled, only saving his neck and back
from the fury of the mountain beast by such kick-
ing and leaping that both combatants were indis-
tinguishable from the whirlwind of dust. Out of
this they would emerge to stand panting in front
of each other with tongues pendant and red eyes
rolling. Finally the bear, nearly exhausted, made
a sudden charge, the bull leaped aside, backed again