Then came the signal for the banderilleros to sink their darts in the shoulders of the bull. One of them would catch the bull's attention and they would rush toward each other. The banderillero would change his course after the bull got under way and by just grazing his horns would plant the darts in his shoulders. The first man got rousing cheers. From his darts two flags unfurled. One was that of Peru and the other that of the United States. It was supposed to be a pretty compliment to the Americans. Bill explained how the banderillero did it: "Say, did y' see that feller? He stands close hauled right up to the weather mark, then he bears up and passes to leeward, with his lee rail awash. He's been whaling all right--we was eighteen months in the Mozambique once, when I was whaling out of New Bedford, and our iron man always took his fish like him. Ye see, ye stands yer course right up to the animal, then give a rank sheer, heave, and let him go by!" The bull was now very tired. Padillo, the second matador, came out, bowed to the authorities and asked the President's permission to kill the bull. He got it and it was up to him to do it. He waved his bright red cape, sheltering his sword, repeatedly in front of the bull, stepping aside just in time to escape the horns. The bull was dazed. Then Padillo stood about ten feet away, poised his sword to take aim and rushed on the bull. The sword did not hit the fatal spot. The thrust was a failure. Bill said: "Ah--he's a bum pointer! A guy what's been in training as long as he has and ain't got no better sense than to fire before he's steady on don't deserve to hold the rate. Mighty poor gunn'ry that!" Again the matador failed. The sword went in deep. Muscular contraction, which had forced the first sword out, failed to move this one and a capeador threw his cloak over the weapon deftly and drew it out. Again there was a failure to kill, but the bull was almost exhausted. He sank to his knees, got up and made one more lunge at Padillo, who then sank the sword to the hilt in the proper place and all was over. There were cheers, but Padillo hadn't done well. Bill said: "Say's he's a bum reefer and a yardarm furler. I'll bet that guy's a trimmer. Ye can tell by the cut of his jib that he's in everybody's mess and nobody's watch. He's jack outside the lift when the liberty party's called away, but sick bay for him when the coal comes alongside." The second bull, Ranger, gave the horsemen plenty to do. He soon had the aged horseman in difficulty. Time and again the horseman, looking over his shoulder, flaunted his cape this way and that; but it was evident that the bull could not be escaped easily. All the fighters became nervous. At last the bull made a thrust that caught the beautiful iron gray pony in the flank with a deep wound. The cape men interfered at once and the horseman rode away to safety. Bill had this to say: