by J P S Brown
"How are you doing in the competition, Mariano?" Juan Vogel asked.
"No competition today. We are just playing. The first turn of the tailing is over. I won it. We are holding the bull riding and the team roping suertes, events, now."
They walked from the mezquital to the rock wall of the arena and stood between two cars in the sun with their arms resting on top of the wall. A big gate separated the straight part of the keyhole from the round part. When the gate was closed, the round part, called the ruedo, resembled a bullring. The inside of the ruedo, where the action was now taking place, was encircled by a board barrera the same as a bullring. A stocky, bowlegged man in a fine white shirt, now dusty, brown charro hat, and worn leggings stood at the head of his horse in the center of the ruedo. His brown face was intent on a wrinkled piece of paper in his hand. His goatee was pure white.
"That is Don Tomás, the father of my wife and Mariano," Juan Vogel said.
"My father is mayoral of the fiesta today," Mariano said. "He supervises and keeps order in the arena. He is also judging the suertes."
Hacienda vaqueros working at the bucking chutes in the ruedo were having trouble with a bull. The charreada had been suspended for a few minutes while the bull was prepared for the next rider.
"Papá," Mariano called to Don Tomás. "Papá."
The man turned toward his son. He looked over at the bucking chutes and saw that the bull was not in the chute yet. He walked across the dust of the arena to Kane, Vogel, and
Mariano.
"Are you ready to rope your bull in the terna, hijo?" he asked his son.
"Sí, Papá," Mariano said. "Will my father permit me to use the black mare in the terna?"
"Yes, but be careful with her, she is new," Don Tomás said.
"Yes, Papá," the boy said and left them.
"This is Jim Kane, Don Tomás," Juan Vogel said.
"Ah," Don Tomás said. "I asked Juanito to invite you here to show you what true Mexican hospitality is. I understand that Juan was not capable of extending hospitality to you. I have been wanting to meet the man who stood up and pounded my bronco son-in-law. You are welcome here. Pound him whenever you feel like it, with my permission, Juan Vogel took it in good humor. Don Tomás mounted his horse and rode back to the bucking chutes.
A band of mariachis was playing in the back of a truck by the bucking chutes. Mariano Piedras and another charro rode into the ruedo. They built big loops in their maguey ropes and sat their horses facing the bucking chutes.
The bull and rider were ready. The mariachis struck up "El Muchacho Alegre," "The Happy Boy," and the bull was turned out. The bull was a white, humpy Brahma. The rider held on with both hands to a rope around the bull's girth behind the hump. The rider had good balance and was spurring the bull well up in the neck. The bull bucked straight and shook himself and twisted sideways in the air after each lunge. He bucked across the arena and did not falter when he got to Mariano and the other horseman but lowered his head and charged between them and tried to jump the barrera in front of Kane and Vogel. He bounced off the barrera and fell back on his side in the arena. He came up with the boy still on his back. He bucked around the arena close to the barrera and strewed vaqueros out of the arena over the barrera. He bucked around again to where Mariano and his companion sat their horses. He stopped. The rider spurred him to start him again but he just trotted around with his tongue out trying to hook at the spurring feet.
Mariano's companion, an old man with long heavy mousetaches, rode his big sorrel gelding over to the bull. The bull whirled and faced him but did not charge. The man reined away giving the bull the horses hind end for a target. He made two passes at the bull in this way and the bull stood his ground. On the third pass the old man swung his loop overhead and approached the bull from the front. He released the loop in a downward swing by his left stirrup. The wide loop fanned up behind him, climbed higher than his head, and came down and settled exactly around the bull's neck. The old man rode away, took up his slack so that the loop caught only the horns, dallied on the saddlehorn, and led the stiff-legged bull away from the barrera. In the center of the ruedo, the rider untied his rope and dismounted from the bull. He received his applause from the people and the dianas, the short tune of fanfare, of the mariachis, saluted with his hand to his sombrero, and ran out of the arena.
Mariano Piedras rode his mare to the left side of the bull and threw his loop over the hind end of the bull. The big loop caught on the hips and whipped around in front of the hooks and under the belly from the other side, building a trap for the hind legs. The bull lunged and did not step into the trap. Mariano backed his mare off and started again with a small loop which he spun back and forth by his side from the mare's head to her tail. When the loop was large enough he flattened it parallel to the ground, the loop spinning like a wheel, brought it under the mare's neck, around the other side, around the mare's hind end, and back around the mare again as he rode up behind the bull. He snapped the rolling loop perpendicular to the ground, brought it around his horse again, and let it go. It yawned and rolled straight to the bull's hind legs and wrapped around them. When the bull lunged. this time both hind legs were caught in the loop. Mariano jerked his slack, turned his mare away from the bull, took a dally on the saddle horn, let the dally run on the horn as he rode away, and stretched the white bull full-length in the arena.
"Beautiful!" Kane said.
"Yes. That is the pial con floreo, heeling with a flowered loop," Juan Vogel said.
"Can you do that, Juan?"
"No, but I'm dangerous a la vieja."
"What kind of loop is that?"
"That is the loop you might throw in the same manner as you would throw a rope to your old lady."
"That is more the way I do it. But I want to learn this."
"Tell Don Tomás. He is always happy to recruit another charro. If he had his way every male on two legs in Rio Alamos would be a charro. He would even like to ban the tejano, the kind of hat you and I wear, in the State of Sonora. He has recruited doctors and lawyers into the association and they are learning tailing and roping. Some of them even ride the bulls."
"I thought charros of the caliber of Mariano and that old man with the moustaches were only to be found in the south of Mexico. I have never seen charros in Sonora."
"Don Tomás is from Puebla. The old moustaches, Don Paco, came here with Don Tomás many years ago, The boy that rode the bull is Don Paco's son. Since the boys have grown up they have formed a team to compete in charro competitions all over Mexico. A team usually consists of five men. The Rio Alamos group always has at least one doctor or lawyer who is willing to take his lumps to go along with them. But don't think there are many charros in Sonora. Rio Alamos has the only charro association in the state."
"Why is it that Sonora vaqueros are not more interested in charreada?"
"The Sonora vaquero likes the way of the American cowboy better. The vaquero is a good practical roper and horseman but charreada is the art of roping and horsemanship. The sons of Don Tomás and Don Paco were given the chavinda, the maguey rope, for their first playthings. Their baby cribs were saddles. The saying is, 'El charro se hace con baba, no con barba.' The charro is made when he is slobbering, cutting teeth, not when his beard is growing."
"We also say a cowboy is born, not made."
"This is true but the art of the charro must be taught to the small child and is much more complicated than the roping and riding of the cowboy. Not many cowboys could become good charros."
"Still, I'm going to learn that roping someday."
"Good luck. Wait until you try it. I don't say you can't learn it, though. Don Tomás tried to keep Adelita, my wife's sister, away from the horses and ropes in order to raise her to be a lady, but I believe she is a better charra even than Mariano. That is her over there by the chutes."
A small, brown girl in a leather split riding skirt and knee-length black English boots was laughing huskily at Mariano for mi
ssing his first loop at the heels of the white bull. The vaqueros at the chutes were enjoying what the girl was saying. The boy was looking down at his saddle horn while she derided him. A quirt hung from her left wrist and she whipped her boot top with it as she laughed up at the boy on horseback. She was bareheaded and her black hair hung straight down below her shoulders. It hung together in wild ropes like the hair of a Yaqui Indian. Don Tomás spoke to her and she turned and stalked out of the arena swinging the quirt in one hand and stroking the thigh of her own striding leg with the other.
"That girl has no pardon. There will be no forgiveness for Adelita Piedras," Juan Vogel said.
Don Tomás walked down the alley between the barrera and the stone wall to where Kane and Juan Vogel stood. Mariano rode in the arena following Don Tomás and leading Don Tomás' horse.
"You shouldn't stand here in the sun without beer," Don Tomás said. He turned to Mariano. "Go and get beer for us, son," he said. The boy was still smarting from his sister's teasing. He handed Don Tomás his reins.
"Three?" he asked.
"And one for yourself"
The boy rode away sitting his horse as proudly as he could, knowing Kane and Juan Vogel were watching him.
"How do you like the charreada?" Don Tomás asked Kane.
"Very much," Kane said.
"Are you a horseman?"
"After a fashion."
"He wants to be a charro," Juan Vogel said.
"Anytime you wish to join us you are welcome, Señor Kane. This is our national sport. It is Mexican one hundred per cent," Don Tomás said.
"The Lion says Jim is a good jinete, a good rider of bucking horses," Juan Vogel said.
"Why not? The Americans have great style in riding bucking horses and bulls," Don Tomás said. "The charro rides to stay on until the animal quits bucking. The cowboy rides to contest the horse or the bull for a short time to make a good picture of a horse bucking and a rider spurring. The American way of riding is an art."
"Mariano's roping is an art," Kane said.
"Yes, we attempt to make our horsemanship and roping an art. Did you see the tailing today?" Don Tomás asked.
"No, we came too late," Kane said.
"Tailing requires the art of horsemanship. Someday I'll invite you to try it," Don Tomás said.
"I'd like to," Kane said.
"Would you like to ride a bucking horse today?" Don Tomás asked Jim Kane.
"I had not thought of it."
"He has a bad knee," Juan Vogel said.
"The knee is all right," Kane said. "I could ride a bareback horse.
"All our bucking-horse riding in charreada is bareback. We use the pretal, the tight rope, only. We never saddle our bucking horses. "
"His knee is bad," Juan Vogel said.
"We would like an exhibition if you are willing," Don Tomás said.
"I'll attempt it, " Kane said. Mariano rode up with three cans of beer and handed them to Don Tomás.
"Would you like some of the fuerte, the strong drink, first?" Don Tomás asked.
"Let's see," Juan Vogel said. Without dismounting, Mariano leaned over Don Tomás' horse, took a thin, half-pint bottle of clear mezcal out of the saddlebag, and handed it to his father. Don Tomás handed it to Kane and Kane drank a big swallow to brace up his brain, the brain which had crumbled under stupidity when Kane had been faced with the dare of riding a bronc. Juan Vogel drank with relish, wiped off the mouth of the bottle, and gave it back to Don Tomás half empty. The charro drank again and the bottle went around again. Don Tomás emptied it.
"To bucking-horse riding!" Juan Vogel laughed, and saluted Kane with his beer. Kane chased the mezcal, not worrying about crowding its quality, with half of his can of beer.
"The next event is the escaramuza," Don Tomás said. "This is the ladies' horsemanship event. My daughter is captain of the team of Rio Alamos ladies." He handed the empty mezcal bottle to Mariano. "Co replenish this, son," he said. The boy rode away with the bottle.
"Are you married, Señor Kane?"
"No," Jim Kane said. He added immediately, "Nor do I intend to be ten years from now."
"We must introduce Senor Kane to some of our Rio Alamos ladies, Juanito," Don Tomás said. "We have fine women here, Senor Kane. Beautiful and good women."
"I've been watching them," Kane said.
"For example, in the ladies of the escaramuza, you, as a horseman, will see what I mean about our women."
The mariachis began playing the old song of the revolution, "Adelita." The arena was cleared and the gate opened at the far end of the straight track of the keyhole. Six girls on horseback riding sidesaddle streamed through the gate single file. They stopped their horses and stood them abreast halfway up the track. The first horse sprang into a run toward the ruedo. The horse was suffering from what cowboys of Kane's acquaintance called the 'green-eyed runaway.' The girl was spurring with the one stirruped foot and whipping with a long, thin, hardwood rod to get more runaway out of the horse. The girl was Adelita, daughter of Don Tomás. The big black stud horse she rode didn't have a spot of white on him. He stretched and ran as though there was no barrera at the end of the arena for him. The girl was wearing a black and gold brocaded sombrero over her brow. Her hair was plaited in one thick braid down her back.
The girl checked the big black in the center of the ruedo and he braked and slid on his hind legs, his front legs pawing the air together. The girl stilled the horse there and made a hand salute to her sombrero and rode to one side to wait for her companions to introduce themselves in the same manner. The team performed an intricate drill in the ruedo at full speed. Their final move was another headlong charge to the barrera. Adelita did not check the stud until his nose was about to strike the boards. When she turned him, his feet went out from under him and he went down. The girl arched her supple back and kept her seat and seemed to hover over the stud, unaffected by his struggles, while she switched and spurred him so thoroughly that Kane could see the hair fly off him. He scrambled to his feet and slammed against the barrera on the off side, the stirrupless side of the sidesaddle, regained his balance, and was spurred in a charge out of the arena. The rest of the team followed.
When the girls were gone and the gates had been shut on the ruedo, Mariano Piedras rode over to Kane and said, "My father says you are going to ride."
"I guess so," Kane said.
"When you are ready I will help you mount. We have a buckskin in the chute. He is the best we have. He bucks very well."
"Let's go then."
Kane climbed over the rock wall and walked down the alley of the barrera to the chutes. The buckskin was the same color as the Mortgage Maker colt Kane had ridden for Bob Keys. He was much smaller. This buckskin didn't weigh seven hundred pounds. He was narrow as a board. Kane looked at Mariano.
"This is him," Mariano said.
"He is very good to buck," a smiling vaquero who was perched on the back of the chute said.
"Well, let's have him then," Kane said and climbed onto the chute and strapped on spurs he borrowed from Mariano. Mariano and the vaquero wrapped a braided rope around the buckskin's girth and pulled out the slack. Kane got down on the black-striped back and planted his feet between the boards on both sides of the chute. He got his hand under the rope.
"Use both hands," Mariano said.
"What for? One hand is better style for falling off," Kane said.
Mariano tightened the rope and started to tie off the end.
"Give it to me," Kane said and took the loose, end and wrapped it around his hand and held it.
"You'll hang up to him that way," Mariano said.
"That's what I figure," Kane said. The vaquero smiled.
"Don't fall off then," Mariano said.
"I appreciate that advice," Kane said. .
"Ready?" Mariano asked, and got hold of the gate latch. What the hell, Kane thought. He lay back, looked at the sky, and said, "Turn him loose." He raised his inside foot as high as he
could and drove the wheel-roweled spur behind the buckskin's ear as the gate opened. One thing about these gut hooks I'm wearing, he thought, they'll bring anything back to life that hasn't been dead more than ten days. He kept up the motions of spurring, but he never turned another hair on the buckskin. He never found the ragged little horse again. He could see no head, no shoulders, no withers in front of him. He could feel no barrel under his thighs. He was riding a bumpy rail that was the buckskin"s backbone. The buckskin stretched and snapped the backbone under him and Kane was sure every vertabra the horse possessed passed beneath Kane's buttocks like the teeth of a chain saw. Kane spurred high with one foot to keep his balance when the buckskin turned off the barrera, and missed. When the horse raised his head after the turn, both of Kane's feet were on the same side of the buckskin's neck. The horse wheeled away from the feet and Kane lay out over him off balance. He turned loose his hold on the rope. Gravity took over. Kane sailed out flat in the air, parallel to the ground, and landed on his back in the arena. He got up and leaned against the barrera to get his breath and looked squarely into the sun-flecked, yellow-brown, coyote-like eyes of Adelita Piedras, who was standing behind the barrera.
"¡Así me bajo yo!" Kane said. "That is the way I get off a horse." The girl did not say a word, showed absolutely no expression. She had seen nothing and Kane was not there. Kane looked away.
"You are supposed to hold with your spurs on the animal's sides and you are supposed to hold on with both hands to the pretal," Mariano Piedras said, trotting up to Kane, shaking his hand, and laughing.
