with incredible swiftness, caught the bear in the
belly, tossed him so high that he met the hard earth
with a loud cracking of bone. The vaqueros circled
about the maddened bull, set his hide thick with ar-
rows, tripped him with the lasso. A wiry little
Mexican in yellow, galloping in on his mustang, ad-
ministered the coup de grace amidst the wild
applause of the spectators, whose shouting and
clapping and stamping might have been heard by
the envious guard at the Presidio and Yerba Buena.

As the party on the corridor broke, Rezanov
found no difficulty in reaching Concha's side, for
even Dona Ignacia was chattering wildly with sev-
eral other good dames who renewed their youth
briefly at the bull-fight.

"Did you enjoy that?" he asked curiously.

"I did not look at it. I never do. But I know
that you were not affronted. You never took your
eyes from those dreadful beasts."

"I am exhilarated to know that you watched me.
Yes, at a bull-fight the primitive man in me has its
way, although I have the grace to be ashamed of
myself afterward. In that I am at least one degree
more civilized than your race, which never repents."

The door of one of the smaller rooms stood open,