Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - XII. The Bullfight
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274 DAYS IN THE SUN
the horse is set up on his legs, but falls again at once;
the picador is led out limping.
The second picador succeeds in facing the bull with
his horse head on and sits, on the defensive, with his
lowered lance resting under his right arm. The bull
moves forward, slowly, determined, his head lowered;
then he stops and paws up clouds of sandy dust.
He moves forward and plunges one horn into the
horse’s chest, at the very moment when the picador
pierces the bull’s shoulder with his lance. The horse
trembles; a thick jet of blood stands out from his chest,
like water from a pump—the horse falls.
The third picador sits on his horse, waiting, full of
eagerness to sacrifice his animal. But the horse stand- |
ing with eyes blindfolded, like the other horses, man-
ages to scent the danger; it snorts and jumps timidly to
one side. But the bull now means business; he pushes
his head under the horse’s belly and slowly draws it
back, the entrails encircling his horns; he weaves them
in a long thread over all the arena until they rip.
Another signal from a horn—the first act is over.
Once more the arena swarms. The quick-footed
capas and banderilleros dance about the bull like gay
butterflies. Now one of them dances forward; he has
no cloth behind which to shield himself; but in his
hands he has two red arrows, each a yard long. He
prances about the arena, swinging his arrows like two
conductor’s wands, one in either hand. The bull
dashes toward him; the banderillero stops. And while
the bull appears to be goring him with his horns, the
banderillero sticks the two arrows into the animal’s
neck—one over each shoulder blade—and lightly
moves off again. The bull snorts and shakes his mane
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