One for the Bulls

The small red brick and whitewash pueblo of San Sebastian de Los Reyes, ten miles north of Madrid, last week contributed something to the history of the bull ring that lifted the town, in an odd sort of way, to the level of Talavera de La Reina, where the great Joselito was killed by a bull on May 16, 1920, and Linares, where bullfighting's messiah, the classical and sad-eyed Manolete, was killed while slaying another bull on Aug. 28, 1947.

Faster-starting than race horses, more agile than middleweight champions, fighting bulls are semi-invincible. In caged battle, they have destroyed both lions and Bengal tigers. On the other hand, they habitually lose bullfights. If they defeat one matador, the other matadors on the program are present to finish the job.

Last week San Sebastian de Los Reyes made that "almost always." For its annual one-shot fiesta, the village bought half a dozen three-year-old bulls from the unpretentious Castilian ranch of Don Eme-terio del Corral. Three bullfighters were signed--a sandy-haired 22-year-old called Little Angel, a swarthy fellow of the same age known as Little Pete, and a teen-age apprentice marvel known as The Toledo Fox. In the ancient manner, the white-dust town square was barricaded, the trumpet of death sounded, and the bullfight began.

Bull No. i, named Powerful, burst into the sun and immediately shattered a section of the wooden barricade. Little Angel passed him once with a half-veronica, but on the return trip Powerful chose Little Angel instead of the cape. While Little Angel rested in a nearby infirmary, Little Pete finished the bull.

No. 2, called Field Guard, entered the ring with a splintered right horn and a dangerous way of hooking both to the right and the left. "Let me at him," said the ambitious Toledo Fox. After a brief series of passes he turned his back on the animal and walked imperially away in the style of the great dominating matadors. Field Guard, unimpressed, mowed him down like a corn harvester. Little Pete again came in to make the kill--a little raggedly now.

No. 3, Little Ugly, carried fine high horns. "I decided this was the bull for me," said Little Pete later. "I wanted to cut his ears and be carried off on the shoulders of the crowd." His statuary passes were successful; his work with the muleta brought music from the band. His sword thrust was accurate as well; but as Little Ugly fell he let Little Pete have it with a sharp left hook. Little Pete went off to the hospital, too. The remaining three unfought bulls were sent back to the farm, and San Sebastian had a claim on history: every matador in sight had been wiped out by the fighting bulls.

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