I got very comfortable quarters in one of the French hotels, of which there were several in the town, besides a number of good American houses; German restaurants, where lager beer was drunk by the gallon; Mexican fondas, which had an exceedingly greasy look about them; and also a Chinese house, where everything was most scrupulously clean. In this latter place a Chinese woman, dressed in European style, sat behind the bar and served out drinkables to thirsty outside barbarians, while three Chinamen entertained them with celestial music from a drum something like the top of a skull covered with parchment and stuck upon three sticks, a guitar like a long stick with a knob at the end of it, and a sort of fiddle with two strings. I asked the Chinese landlord, who spoke a little English, if the woman was his wife. “Oh, no,” he said, very indignantly, “only hired woman—China woman; hired her for show—that’s all.” Some of these Chinamen are pretty smart fellows, and this was one of them. The novelty of the “show,” however, wore off in a few days, and the Chinawoman disappeared—probably went to show herself in other diggings.
One could live here in a way which seemed perfectly luxurious after cruising about the mountains among the small out-of-the-way camps; for, besides having a choice of good hotels, one could enjoy most of the comforts and conveniences of ordinary life; even ice-creams and sherry-cobblers were to be had, for snow was packed in on mules thirty or forty miles from the Sierra Nevada, and no one took even a cocktail without its being iced. But what struck me most as a sign of civilization, was seeing a drunken man, who was kicking up a row in the street, deliberately collared and walked off to the lock-up by a policeman. I never saw such a thing before in the mines, where the spectacle of drunken men rolling about the streets unmolested had become so familiar to me that I was almost inclined to think it an infringement of the individual liberty of the subject—or of the citizen, I should say—not to allow this hog of a fellow to sober himself in the gutter, or to drink himself into a state of quiescence if he felt so inclined. This policeman represented the whole police force in his own proper person, and truly he had no sinecure. He was not exactly like one of our own blue-bottles; he was not such a stoical observer of passing events, nor so shut out from all social intercourse with his fellow-men. There was nothing to distinguish him from other citizens, except perhaps the unusual size of his revolver and bowie-knife; and his official dignity did not prevent him from mixing with the crowd and taking part in whatever amusement was going on.
The people here dressed better than was usual in other parts of the mines. On Sundays especially, when the town was thronged with miners, it was quite gay with the bright colors of the various costumes. There were numerous specimens of the genuine old miner to be met with—the miner of ’49, whose pride it was to be clothed in rags and patches; but the prevailing fashion was to dress well; indeed there was a degree of foppery about many of the swells, who were got up in a most gorgeous manner. The weather was much too hot for any one to think of wearing a coat, but the usual style of dress was such as to appear quite complete without it; in fact, a coat would have concealed the most showy article of dress, which was a rich silk handkerchief, scarlet, crimson, orange, or some bright hue, tied loosely across the breast, and hanging over one shoulder like a shoulder belt. Some men wore flowers, feathers, or squirrel’s tails in their hats; occasionally the beard was worn plaited and coiled up like a twist of tobacco, or was divided into three tails hanging down to the waist. One man, of original ideas, who had very long hair, brought it down on each side of the face, and tied it in a large bow-knot under his chin; and many other eccentricities of this sort were indulged in. The numbers of Mexican women with their white dresses and sparkling black eyes were by no means an unpleasing addition to the crowd, of which the Mexicans themselves formed a conspicuous part in their variegated blankets and broad-brimmed hats. There were men in bonnets rouges and bonnets bleus, the cut of whose mustache and beard was of itself sufficient to distinguish them as Frenchmen; while here and there some forlorn individual exhibited himself in a black coat and a stove-pipe hat, looking like a bird of evil omen among a flock of such gay plumage.
CHAPTER XXIII
BULL FIGHTING
A COMPANY of Mexican bull-fighters were at this time performing in Sonora every Sunday afternoon. The amphitheater was a large well-built place, erected for the purpose on a small hill behind the street. The arena was about thirty yards in diameter, and enclosed in a very strong six-barred fence, gradually rising from which, all round, were several tiers of seats, shaded from the sun by an awning.
I took the first opportunity of witnessing the spectacle, and found a very large company assembled, among whom the Mexicans and Mexican women in their gay dresses figured conspicuously. A good band of music enlivened the scene till the appointed hour arrived, when the bull-fighters entered the arena. The procession was headed by a clown in a fantastic dress, who acted his part throughout the performances uncommonly well, cracking jokes with his friends among the audience, and singing comic songs. Next came four men on foot, all beautifully dressed in satin jackets and knee-breeches, slashed and embroidered with bright colors. Two horsemen, armed with lances, brought up the rear. After marching round the arena, they stationed themselves in their various places, one of the horsemen being at the side of the door by which the bull was to enter. The door was then opened, and the bull rushed in, the horseman giving him a poke with his lance as he passed, just to waken him up. The footmen were all waving their red flags to attract his attention, and he immediately charged at one of them; but, the man stepping gracefully aside at the proper moment, the bull passed on and found another red flag waiting for him, which he charged with as little success. For some time they played with the bull in this manner, hopping and skipping about before his horns with so much confidence, and such apparent ease, as to give one the idea that there was neither danger nor difficulty in dodging a wild bull. The bull did not charge so much as he butted, for, almost without changing his ground, he butted quickly several times in succession at the same man. The man, however, was always too quick for him, sometimes just drawing the flag across his face as he stepped aside, or vaulting over his horns and catching hold of his tail before he could turn round.
After this exhibition one of the horsemen endeavored to engage the attention of the bull, and when he charged, received him with the point of his lance on the back of the neck. In this position they struggled against each other, the horse pushing against the bull with all his force, probably knowing that that was his only chance. On one occasion the lance broke, when horse and rider seemed to be at the mercy of the bull, but as quick as lightning the footmen were fluttering their flags in his face and diverting his fury, while the horseman got another lance and returned to the charge.
Shortly afterwards the footmen laid aside their flags and proceeded to what is considered a more dangerous, and consequently more interesting, part of the performances. They lighted cigars, and were handed small pieces of wood, with a barbed point at one end and a squib at the other. Having lighted his squibs at his cigar, one of their number rushes up in front of the bull, shouting and stamping before him, as if challenging him to come on. The bull is not slow of putting down his head and making at him, when the man vaults nimbly over his horns, leaving a squib fizzing and cracking on each side of his neck. This makes the bull still more furious, but another man is ready for him, who plays him the same trick, and so they go on till his neck is covered with squibs. One of them then takes a large rosette, furnished in like manner with a sharp barbed point, and this, as the bull butts at him, he sticks in his forehead right between the eyes. Another man then engages the bull, and, while eluding his horns, removes the rosette from his forehead. This is considered a still more difficult feat, and was greeted with immense applause, the Mexican part of the audience screaming with delight.
The performers were all uncommonly well made, handsome men; their tight dresses greatly assisted their appearance, and they moved with so much grace, and with such an expression on their countenance of pleasure and confidence, even while making their greatest efforts, that they might have been supposed to be going through the figures of a ballet on the stage, instead of risking death from the horns of a wild bull at every step they executed. During the latter part of the performance, being without their red flags, they were of course in greater danger; but it seemed to make no difference to them; they put a squib in each side of the bull’s neck, while evading his attack, with as much apparent ease as they had dodged him from behind their red flags. Sometimes, indeed, when they were hard pressed, or when attacked by the bull so close to the barrier that they had no room to maneuver round him, they sprang over it in among the spectators.
The next thing in the program was riding the bull, and this was the most amusing scene of all. One of the horsemen lassoes him over the horns, and the other, securing him in his lasso by the hind-leg, trips him up, and throws him without the least difficulty. By keeping the lassoes taut, he is quite helpless. He is then girthed with a rope, and one of the performers, holding on by this gets astride of the prostrate bull in such a way as to secure his seat, when the animal rises. The lassoes are then cast off, when the bull immediately gets up, and, furious at finding a man on his back, plunges and kicks most desperately, jumping from side to side, and jerking himself violently in every way, as he vainly endeavors to bring his horns round so as to reach his rider. I never saw such horsemanship, if horsemanship it could be called; nor did I ever see a horse go through such contortions, or make such spasmodic bounds and leaps: but the fellow never lost his seat, he stuck to the bull as firm as a rock, though thrown about so violently that it seemed enough to jerk the head off his body. During this singular exhibition the spectators cheered and shouted most uproariously, and the bull was maddened to greater fury than ever by the footmen shaking their flags in his face, and putting more squibs on his neck. It seemed to be the grand climax; they had exhausted all means to infuriate the bull to the very utmost, and they were now braving him more audaciously than ever. Had any of them made a slip of the foot, or misjudged his distance but a hairbreadth, there would have been a speedy end of him; but fortunately no such mishap occurred, for the blind rage of the bull was impotent against their coolness and precision.