Among the various crack herds that of Don Eduardo Miura of Sevilla had always occupied a prominent rank; while during recent years the power and dashing prowess of the _Miureno_ bulls had raised that breed almost to a level apart, invested with a halo of semi-mysterious quality. Captures occurred at every _corrida_; man after man had gone down before these redoubted champions, and the minds of surviving matadors--saturated one and all with gipsy-sprung superstition--began to attribute secret or supernatural powers to the dreaded herd. Not a swordsman but felt unwonted qualm when meeting a _Miureno_ on the sanded arena. Showy players with the _capa_ and the banderillos proved capable of giving attractive exhibitions, but it was another matter when the matador stood alone, face to face with his foe. Even second-class _toréros_ can, with almost any bull, show off their accomplishments in these lighter séances; but in the supreme rôle--that of killing the bull as art demands--there is no room for half-measures or deceptions. To valour, ability must be united. When those two qualities are not both coupled and balanced, then one of two things happens: Either the scene becomes a dull one, a mixture of funk and feebleness made patent all round; or disaster is at hand. This one hears forecast in the strange cries of this meridional people--from all sides come the shouts of "_Hule! Hule!_" Now _Hule_ is the name of the material with which the stretchers for the killed and wounded are covered! At this period (summer of 1908) a combination of the bull-fighting craft attempted a boycott of the Miura herd, or at least double pay for killing them. This was done secretly at first, since neither would open confession redound to the credit of the "pig-tail," nor did it promise favourable reception by the public. At this conjuncture a notable _corrida_ occurred at Seville--six _Miurenos_ being listed for the fight. Ricardo Torres (Bombita II.) despatched his first with all serenity and valour; with his second, a magnificent animal worthy of a royal pageant, he would doubtless have comported himself with equal skill but for an extraneous incident. Upon rushing into the arena this bull had at once impaled a foolhardy amateur named Pepín Rodriguez who (quite against all recognised rule) had madly sprung into the ring. The poor fellow was borne out only in time to receive the last religious rite.