Blood-lusting, the great crowd screamed importunities for more. "Bring
out the bear!" was their demand. "Let us see that she-bear fight the big
bull which has been reserved for the combat!"
Now, this was ticklish work for the Picardo vaqueros who were
stage-managing the sport. From the top of the corral above the
bear-cage they made shift to slide the oaken gate built across an
opening into the adobe corral. Through the barred ceiling of the pen
they prodded the bear from her sulking and sent her, malevolent and
sullen, into the arena. (Senoras tucked vivid skirts closer about stocky
ankles and sent murmurous appeals to their patron saints, and senoritas
squealed in trepidation that was at least half sincere. It was a very
big bear, and she truly looked very fierce and as if she would think
nothing of climbing the adobe wall and devouring a whole front seat full
of fluttering femininity! Rosa screamed and was immediately reassured,
when Teresita reminded her that those fierce gringos across the corral
had many guns.)
The bear did not give more than one look of hatred at the flutter above.
Loose-skinned and loose-jointed she shambled across the corral; lifted
her pointed nose to sniff disgustedly the air tainted with the odor of
enemies whom she could not reach with her huge paws, and went on. Clear
around the corral she walked, her great, hand-like feet falling as
silently as the leaf shadows that splashed one whole corner and danced
all over her back when she passed that way; back to the pen where her
two cubs whimpered against the bars, and watched her wishfully with pert
little tiltings of their heads.
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