their scarlet cloaks in front of the bull to excite him, or to distract his attention as he rushes wildly after some one. They were dressed in beautiful costumes of varied colours with gold embroideries. Last came the Banderillos, holding a dart a couple of feet long and gaily decorated with ribbons in each hand. After waiting for the bull to charge, they rush right up to him and plant the dart into his shoulder, deftly jumping aside. The butcher, with his merciful knife, completed the “Quadrilla.” The signal for the beginning of the Bull-Fight was given. A man dressed in black, as if he had already donned mourning for the death of the bulls, went to the door exactly opposite to us and unlocked it carefully, concealing himself behind the door, and out rushed bull No. I., a magnificent black animal, with a rosette fixed on his shoulder representing the “hacienda” (torril) from which he came. The huge wild beast galloped into the middle of the ring and then stood still, as though bewildered by the noise and sudden transition from darkness to brilliant sunlight. A “Capador,” running swiftly and waving a red shawl, darted before the bull and retreated rapidly backward, leaping over the barrier. The animal dashed at the shawl with a resounding bellow, and lunged with his sharp horns at the cloth. A Banderillo approached him now, holding in his hand his long darts, the ends of which were shod with little barbs that once firmly planted in the flesh, hold on tightly. He awaited the bull, like the spider watches for the fly, in order to plant his banderillas into him. If the bull is not sensitive enough, to complete the cruelty, the banderillas are charged with crackers (fuegos) which burst in his flesh. A slight stream of blood appeared trickling down the bull’s shoulder; he made a mad rush and stood now facing the Banderillero, strictly on the defensive, legs apart, head down, back humped, and tail lashing the air—a picture of power. The ferocious-looking animal with blood-shot eyes, his red nostrils quivering, pawed great lumps of sand and dug furiously with his mighty horns at the banks of the arena, giving thus the time for the Banderillero to jump over the barrier. We were told that at one of the preceding “Corridas” an infuriated bull, following the example of the fleeing Banderillero, jumped after him and found himself in the stalls amidst the audience. That did not sound very promising! Soon the whole body of the bull became one bloody mass. The people shouted in the stalls. Both men and women became unconscious monsters excited by the horrible spectacle. It was too hideously cruel! I burned with indignation and applied bad epithets to the Spaniards, calling them as many bad names as I could in Russian. The Picadores now pushed their horses on the bull, trying to prick him with their lances. The poor animal, with a loud snort, lowered his head, and with tail arched wickedly, he charged