Then, with a wild bellow of satisfaction and defiance, the animal ran into the middle of the arena and stopped, its horns dripping crimson, its eyes full of fiendish fury.
Behind the bull lay two dying horses, struggling in their blood, their bodies ripped open. Another horse was staggering around the arena, blood gushing from the terrible wound in its breast.
And now the spectators went wild. They leaped to their feet and howled their delight, waving hats, parasols, fans and papers in the air. The fight had begun to their entire satisfaction.
Frank was both horrified and fascinated. He had felt himself turn ghastly pale and sicken, and yet he was chained to his seat, and his eyes had watched every movement of the bull. At his side he heard Ephraim Gallup gasping for breath. When the bull rushed to the center of the ring and stopped the boy from Vermont groaned:
“I wish I was aout uv this! By gum! I’d give a dollar ef I was to hum on the farm!”
Professor Scotch was so overcome that he could not speak. He was choking and swallowing in a convulsive way.
“Look!” howled the crowd. “The banderilleros! Bueno! Brava!”
Several men rushed at the bull and planted darts in his neck and shoulders. He charged them, and they escaped one after the other. They were very agile and daring.
Then came others just when the bull seemed infuriated beyond measure. They flaunted scarlet cloths in the animal’s face, provoking him still more. He charged one after the other, and they dodged and avoided him, flying from him, and then turning to come back and torment him again.
Sometimes the bull would pursue one of them to the barrier, and the fellow would barely vault over in time to escape those bloody horns. The bull would strike its head with terrible force against the barrier, kick, bellow, roar and then charge on the dead horses.