At the waving of the president’s handkerchief, the bugles sounded the death-signal, and the _Matador_ came forward. _Pepe Illo_, the pride of this town, and certainly one of the most graceful and dextrous fighters that Spain has ever produced, having flung off his cloak, approached the bull with a quick, light, and fearless step. In his left hand he held a square piece of red cloth, spread upon a staff about two feet in length, and in his right, a broad sword not much longer. His attendants followed him at a distance. Facing the bull, within six or eight yards, he presented the red flag, keeping his body partially concealed behind it, and the sword entirely out of view. The bull rushed against the red cloth, and our hero slipped by his side by a slight circular motion, while the beast passed under the lure which the _Matador_ held in the first direction, till he had evaded the horns. Enraged by this deception, and unchecked by any painful sensation, the bull collected all his strength for a desperate charge. Pepe Illo now levelled his sword, at the left side of the bull’s neck, and, turning upon his right foot as the animal approached him, ran the weapon nearly up to the hilt into its body. The bull staggered, tottered, and dropped gently upon his bent legs; but had yet too much life in him for any man to venture near with safety.--The unfortunate _Illo_ has since perished from a wound inflicted by a bull in a similar state. The _Matador_ observed, for one or two minutes, the signs of approaching death in the fierce animal now crouching before him, and at his bidding, an attendant crept behind the bull and struck him dead, by driving a small poniard at the jointure of the spine and the head. This operation is never performed, except when the prostrate bull lingers. I once saw _Illo_, at the desire of the spectators, inflict this merciful blow in a manner which nothing but ocular demonstration would have made me believe. Taking the poniard, called _Puntilla_, by the blade, he poised it for a few moments, and jerked it with such unerring aim on the bull’s neck, as he lay on his bent legs, that he killed the animal with the quickness of lightning. Four mules, ornamented with large morrice-bells and ribbons, harnessed a-breast, and drawing a beam furnished with an iron hook in the middle, galloped to the place where the bull lay. This machine being fastened to a rope previously thrown round the dead animal’s horns, he was swiftly dragged out of the amphitheatre. I have now given you a more minute, and, I trust, more correct description of every thing connected with the bull-fights than has ever been drawn by any traveller. Townsend’s is the best account of these sports I ever met with; yet it is not free from mistakes. So difficult is it to see distinctly, scenes with which we are not familiarly acquainted.