He thought, furthermore, that in his farm he was at Plumitas' mercy, in the country life which was only possible if he kept on good terms with that extraordinary person. Certainly this bull must be for him.
He smiled at the bandit, who was placidly watching him. He took off his montera, shouting towards the heaving crowd, but with his eyes on Plumitas.
"This bull is for you!"
He threw his montera towards the benches, where a hundred hands were outstretched, fighting to catch the sacred deposit.
Gallardo signed to El Nacional, so that with opportune cape play he should bring the bull towards him.
The espada spread his muleta, and the beast attacked with a deep snort, passing under the red rag. "Olé!" roared the crowd, once more bewitched by their old idol, and disposed to think everything he did admirable.
He continued giving several passes to the bull, amid the exclamations of the people a few steps from him, and who seeing him close were giving him advice. "Be careful, Gallardo! The bull still has his full strength. Don't get between him and the barrier. Keep your retreat open."
Others more enthusiastic excited his audacity by more daring advice.
"Give him one of your own!... Zas! Strike and you pocket him!"
But the brute was too big and too mistrustful to be put in anybody's pocket. Excited by the proximity of the dead horse, he constantly returned to it, as though the stench of the belly intoxicated him.