"There, that rider went wrong! The bull was after him under full sail and was yawin' 'round three or four p'ints each side o' the course and rollin' and pitchin' somethin' awful. That man on the horse, the picalilly, or whatever ye call 'im, tried to give the bull the right o' way, although, bein' close hauled, he should a-held his weather helm on 'im. However, not obeyin' the rules o' the road, he starts to give way, but at the critical moment the bull makes a yaw to port, rams the horse in the starboard quarter. The picalilly man tops his boom, stands to the eastward and tries to put his collision mat over. He should a-put his helm over the other way. Poor work, poor work!" So the fight went on. Padillo killed another bull, but he had three failures at thrusts before the beast sank down and died. There were hisses for him, and some of the bluejackets shouted: "Take him out and put him in a minor league!" Lagartijillo chico killed the third bull and did no better work. There was a diversion in this fight. A banderillero sat on a chair and made the bull charge at him. The banderillero rose just as the bull reached him, planted his darts in the animal's shoulders and leaped to one side. It was a beautiful piece of work, and the bluejackets roared their applause. Bill approved the seamanship and said: "That man on the chair apparently didn't have no more chance than an ice skatin' rink in Zanzibar, not to mention a hotter place, usin' a shorter and uglier word. He shifted his moorin's jest in time. It was too late to repel boarders, but he got away. Fine seamanship for the man! Poor work by the bull! He ran down the moorin' buoy, that was all, and splintered it all t'ell and gone. Ye see the man got the right to choose position and fire at will. That's a great thing. Jest remember that lesson." In the same fight one of the men took a long pole, ran straight at the bull, planted the pole directly in front of the animal and vaulted clear over him, coming down just as the bull hit the pole. In his descent the man seized the bull's tail and gave it a twist. Bill was delighted. "Lay aft to the braces! Weather main and lee crojic braces! Hard down there! Lay yer maintops'l to the mast. No! by--! Hard down! He's going to wear sharp 'round and bring up to windward of him! Say, that feller's a sailor all right--every hair a rope yarn, every finger a fishhook and every drop of blood a drop of tar."