“It looks as if he is provoked enough, he will fight. But he must fight bravely to survive.” Luis extended his good hand.
Ramon dropped the lances, climbed over the fence, and pressed his head against his father’s chest. He hugged him like a mama bear hugged her cubs. “I love you, Papa. I love you.”
A brisk breeze came up. Toro lifted his head, stuck his nostrils in the air. The grizzly roared from the arena. Toro jerked, trotted around the corral, head high, tail outstretched.
Ramon looked into his father’s eyes. “We must save Toro.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Kathleen Crowley spent most of the day shopping in San Juan Capistrano. She placed the last package in her buggy and took the reins. Approaching the main road from town, she saw the wide banner tacked to the livery stable. She pulled up her horse and stared at the hand-painted sign. GREATEST FIGHT EVER—CHAMPION BULL FIGHTS WILD GRIZZLY. She blinked, read it again. “Put on at Rancho Ortega. What an outrage!” She shook the reins and hustled her horse to a quick trot.
Once outside of town, she whipped her steed to a gallop. When she arrived at the Crowley ranch, her horse was lathered with sweat and panting, its tongue hanging out. She reined up, jumped from the seat, and beckoned a ranch hand. “Take care of this horse and my packages.”
“Si, Señora.”
She hurried into her husband’s office. “Edward, this is the last straw.”
Mr. Crowley looked up. “What is, my dear?”
“Ortega! I thought you called in his mortgage.”
“I did. What now?”
“He’s having a fight.”
“A fight?”
“A bull against a grizzly.” She paced back and forth.
“He’s trying to raise the money.”
She stopped, turned to him. “Well, he’s not going to— it’s inhumane.”
Ed Crowley leaned back in his chair. “Yes it is, but it’s been going on a long time. Grizzlies prey on the cattle and cattle are our livelihood.”
“It’s got to stop.”
“But bear and bull fights have been a tradition. They are mortal enemies.”
She glared at him. “Are you defending this fighting; this is sport—not tradition—to make money at the expense of dumb animals?”
He reddened for a moment. “True, money is at stake. There is a lot of gambling—and the bear seldom wins after three of four bulls go at him.”
“I won’t have it.” Mrs. Crowley’s voice pitched upward. “I want it stopped.” She stamped around with her fists jammed into her apron pockets.
“I’ll see what I can do.” He rose.
“Please be quick or I’ll get an injunction from the circuit judge and bring the sheriff.”
He still saw the blaze in her eyes. “I’ll speak to Ortega.”
Kathleen Crowley continued her penetrating gaze for a few minutes then turned and walked out of the room.
“Oh, no.” Tears ran down Ramon’s cheeks. “Toro is not ready. He will be killed.”
Luis put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “There is no choice. The Señor is out of money.”
“I thought I would have more time.” Ramon pulled back from his father.
Luis’s face twisted. “The rancho is at stake—and our spread as well.”
“Why now? All of a sudden.”
“Mr. Crowley called in the mortgage.”
Ramon dropped his head. “I should have known. Did he say anything about me?”
“Why would he?”
“Because Mrs. Crowley caught me and Betsy.”
“Where were you?”
“At the Mission.”
“What were you doing?” Luis’s voice was stern.
Ramon looked at the floor. “Nothing... talking.”
“That is all?”
“We hugged once.”
Luis’s eyes widened. “You hugged that girl?”
“Yes, we like each other.”
Luis shrugged his shoulders. “Ramon, my boy, she is above our class—she is rich. Her father is one of the largest land-owners in California.”
“And, we are Mexicans...” He looked up.
“Yes, that too.”
Ramon sighed. “But, she likes me.”
“It makes no difference. You are still children.”
Ramon stood tall. “I will be a matador someday.”
“Until that day, you must do as your elders order.”
“You are my Papa, I will do as you say.”
Luis patted Ramon’s shoulder. “Now, prepare Toro.”
“I have tried. Are there not other bulls, older bulls?”
Luis put his arm around Ramon’s shoulder. “Toro is the champion, the strongest. Did you not see when he was brought in from the range? He acted like a killer.”
“But when he saw me, he became my pet again.” Ramon’s eyes brightened.
Luis removed his arm from Ramon’s shoulder. “He cannot be your pet ever again.”
The gruffness of his father’s voice jolted Ramon. He knew he must do what his father said but the pain seared through him like a festering burn. No Betsy, no more Toro after the fight. He lifted his head skyward. Surely, the Virgin Mother would not forsake him.
* * *
Kathleen Crowley stopped in front of the sheriff’s office. A banner advertising the bear and bull fight hung above a window. She lingered for a moment, then stomped through the door.
“Mornin’, Mrs. Crowley.” The sheriff rose from his desk.
She glared at him. “Did you authorize that sign outside on the wall?”
“Why yes, what’s wrong?”
“You’ve got to stop that fight.”
“The bear and bull fight?” His eyes widened.
“It’s savage.”
The sheriff laughed. “Be a lot of cowpokes wantin’ to string me up if I stop that fight.”
“Oh, I see, they want to gamble their money away.”
“The boys do want to gamble, but the fights are also traditional.”
Kathleen flared. “It’s not traditional, it’s outrageous, such cruelty to dumb animals.”
“Meanin’ no disrespect, ma’am, but these fights are big business in California.”
“Disgusting! Killing animals just for sport and gambling on the outcome.”
The sheriff scratched his head. “Betting is a big part of it, but the fight also has a purpose.”
“What possible purpose?”
“Grizzlies prey on ranchers’ cattle – surely your own husband is aware of that.”
“Are you defending this terrible spectacle?” She put her hands on her hips.
The sheriff looked sheepish. “Sort of. I’ve been to many fights, even seen Mr. Crowley at some—betting.”
She ignored his last remark. “Well, the only way you’re going to this one is to shut it down. It’s your duty.”
“I... I... ah... don’t know if...”
“I do know. My husband was instrumental in getting you this job and he can take it away.”
The sheriff sat down in his chair behind the desk. “I’ve seen the most upstanding citizens bet at the fights.”
She fixed her sharp eyes on him. “I don’t care what you’ve seen, you better stop it.”
He pinched his chin and wrinkled up his mouth for a few moments. “We should go see Señor Ortega.”
Several days passed. The banners promoting the bear and bull fight still swayed in the breeze. Posters had been distributed to towns as far away as Los Angeles and San Diego.
Early on a sunny morning, Kathleen Crowley and the sheriff rode their horses through the gate at Rancho Ortega and reined up at the main house.
Señor Ortega opened the door and walked onto the veranda. “Buenos Dias, Sheriff, Mrs. Crowley.”
“Mornin’,” the sheriff said.
Mrs. Crowley looked at the ground.
“Please,” Señor Ortega said, “have a seat at my table. Would you like some coffee?”
&nb
sp; The sheriff nodded. Mrs. Crowley dismounted and took a seat.
Señor Ortega waved a hand at a servant. “Now, what can I do for you, Sheriff?”
The sheriff removed his hat. “Actually, it’s Mrs. Crowley who wants to talk to you.”
Kathleen Crowley sat straight in her chair. “Yes, Señor. All those posters I see promoting a fight between a bull and a grizzly bear—I think it’s disgusting and inhumane. I want you to cancel it.”
Ortega raised his folded hands from the table. “But your husband called in the rancho’s mortgage. I have no other way to raise the money.”
“Then you will lose your rancho. I can’t let you go through with this cruel fight.”
“But, Señora, there is no choice. The fight is set. You cannot stop it.”
Her eyebrows raised. “Yes, I will stop it. Even if I have to go to Los Angeles and get a court order.”
Señor Ortega looked at the sheriff. “These fights have been going on for years. Can she do that?”
“Yes, she can.” He pushed back from the table. “If she gets the judge to go along with her. But the judge is a traditional old boy, I’ve seen him bet a few times myself.”
Mrs. Crowley leaned forward. “I’m sure my husband’s influence will take care of that. There are others waiting to take his place.”
Ortega put his coffee cup down. “I cannot lose my rancho. I started this place from nothing. When bad times came, I had to put a mortgage on it.”
Kathleen Crowley stood. “You will lose this ranch. My husband will do what I tell him.”
Ortega pulled back, then stood. “I am sorry we must be enemies, Señora Crowley.”
She turned and walked down the steps. “Are you coming, Sheriff?”
“Not yet. I must discuss this further with Señor Ortega.”
She looked up at him. “Just remember what I told you about your job, sheriff.” She mounted and rode out.
“Did she threaten you?” Ortega asked.
“Said she’d have my job if I didn’t stop the fight.”
“She can’t do that,” Ortega said. “She can’t even vote.”
The sheriff’s jaw tightened. “It’s the strength of her husband’s influence she’s counting on.”
“We shall see about that.” Señor Ortega’s eyes narrowed and he stared down the trail leading away from his rancho.
Later that afternoon, Señor Ortega called Luis into his office. “Mrs. Crowley is threatening to shut down the fight. She brought the sheriff, but he is on our side. But she may get a court order. I cannot let her do that.”
“What will we do?” Luis asked.
“We may have to move the fight.”
Luis’s face showed surprise. “But, we have the perfect arena. We are noted for the finest fights. Where would we go?”
“Maybe San Diego or even Mexico.”
“That is a long way—not very practical.”
“Yes, and a dangerous journey with a wild grizzly.”
“Also, the betting might not be so big in Mexico.”
Ortega put a hand to his cheek. “You may be right. We need large bets to make money.”
“And, what about Ramon? What do we tell him?”
“Nothing, Ramon must learn he cannot control things he does not understand.”
Luis scratched his head. “He is growing up fast.”
“Maybe too fast. That Crowley girl could mean trouble to him.”
“She already is trouble. They were caught together.”
“By who?”
Luis sighed. “Mrs. Crowley—at the Mission.”
“So that is why Mrs. Crowley is in an uproar.”
“That must have something to do with it, but she never did like our breeding fighting bulls.”
Ortega stood behind his desk. “The tradition of champion bulls will live on long after all of us are gone.”
“Not if Mrs. Crowley has her way.”
The Padrone locked eyes with Luis. “Then we must find a way to get around her.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The night before the fight, after sitting beside his father’s bed until he fell asleep, Ramon walked past Señor Ortega’s office. The door was ajar; a light was on. He backtracked and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Ortega said.
Ramon entered.
“Oh, it is you, Ramon.”
“Yes, Padrone. My father is sleeping now. The doctor gave him more laudanum. He said it was only a matter of time—to see if his arm heals right.”
“I pray Luis recovers fully. Hopefully, he will have a rancho of his own to run. I am counting on Toro and the grizzly to provide the money to pay Mr. Crowley.”
“That is what I want to speak to you about, Señor,” Ramon said. “There must be another bull that can fight the grizzly. Toro will surely be killed.”
“Enough, Ramon. We have been over this before. There is no choice.”
Ramon pulled back. His eyes pleaded. “But, Padrone, what will it prove? Blood will soak the sand. My Toro will be gone forever.”
“A killer bull against a killer grizzly—a once-in-a-lifetime match. It will save all of us. I will not forget you or Luis for doing this.”
Ramon looked into Ortega’s eyes. “You forgot my Toro.” He turned and walked out the door.
After feeding his pony, Ramon headed for the corral where Toro was penned. He pitchforked some fresh hay and dropped it in the feeding trough. The bull trotted over from the other side of the corral but did not nuzzle up to Ramon. He held out a handful of hay. Toro backed away and dropped a large hoof on the dirt.
“Toro, what is the matter? Do you not know me?”
The bull kept pawing the ground. Ramon walked toward the animal with the hay outstretched. Toro bent his head and sprayed dust with his giant nostrils.
Ramon stopped. Maybe Toro forgot him. Maybe all men were his enemy now. “Toro, Toro, it is Ramon. I nursed you, fed you, protected you, best I could. It is not my fault you will have to fight the dreaded grizzly.” He wiggled the hay between his fingers. “I still love you. I will help you beat the grizzly.”
Toro did not move. Ramon laid the hay on the ground and walked, head bowed, to the corral fence closest to the large arena where the bear was chained. He slumped by a fence post, leaned his head against it. The moon shone across his saddened face. He raised his eyes, wondered about the gray shadows on the moon. And Betsy—would he ever see her again? Before he closed his eyes to an exhaustive sleep, Ramon gazed one more time at his Toro. The great bull turned and trotted to the darkest corner of the corral. He did not turn back.
Earlier that evening, after everyone in the household was in bed, Betsy had dressed and climbed out her bedroom window. She saddled her horse and led him out the back gate of the ranch. She mounted and rode to Rancho Ortega. After tying her horse to the main gate, she crawled through the fence and headed for the corral.
From the shadows, she watched Ramon talking to his bull and lay some hay on the ground. Then he leaned against a post and fell asleep.
After waiting a short time, Betsy slipped through the fence slats and sat next to Ramon. The moonlight illuminated his handsome boyish face, but Betsy could see his torment. She wanted to throw her arms around him and hug him but thought better of it. Instead, she tugged at his sleeve.
“Uh... uh... what?” He stirred, half-opened his eyes. Her image was blurred. He rubbed his eyes and straightened up. “Who—Betsy! How did you get here?”
“I snuck out. Everybody’s asleep. I wanted to see you.”
“How did you know I’d be here.”
“I heard my father say the big fight was tomorrow –figured you would have to stay by your bull tonight.” She squeezed his arm.
Ramon put his other hand over hers. “But your mother, she forbade you to see me.”
“She did, but she’s actually trying to stop the fight.”
“She is?”
“Not because she cares about you or your bull, but
because she thinks it’s cruel.” Betsy released his arm. “She doesn’t realize how cruel she is sometimes.”
“But, she is your mother.”
“Yes, I know,” Betsy said, “and Father says she’s strict for my own good.”
“Maybe he is right.”
“I think she sees rebellion in me like she had as a young girl.” Betsy took a breath. “My mother was raised in Ireland by a very strict father. She had to attend church every morning, confession every week, and could not entertain boys. She didn’t even know my father when they married. She just wanted to escape. That’s how she got to California.”
“My mother came from Mexico with my father. He was a great matador.” Ramon sighed. “My mother was killed by a grizzly when I was nine.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Betsy pressed his arm again.
Ramon tensed his muscles. “I know much about the grizzly. I cannot let the bear kill my Toro.”
Betsy kissed his cheek. “I will stay with you and help.”
“Thank you. The Virgin Mary will not fail us.” He lifted his head skyward.
Betsy saw the moon’s light reflected in his eyes and stared at him for a few moments. She leaned against his shoulder and gazed toward the heavens with him. Soon, they fell asleep.
Toward early morning, the breeze picked up, whisked Ramon’s, Betsy’s, and Toro’s scents to the large arena. The grizzly raised its head, breathed in its enemy. It growled, fought the twenty-foot chain binding its leg to the post. Each lunge to the chain’s full length quivered the post and kicked up dirt. Then the bear thrust its weight against the pole and ripped at its bonds.
Clawing the air, the grizzly roared and slashed at the moon. The bear backed away from the post, charged it savagely. The force broke the pole near the ground. Recovering from its assault, the bear turned, pulled the chain off the wood, picked up the post, and hurled it at the gate across the arena.
Snarling, the grizzly crawled over the wall, dropped to the ground, and thundered across a clearing to the corral. The giant bear crashed through the fence, sending large splinters flying onto the bunkhouse roof.
Lights popped on inside the bunkhouse. Doors opened. Sleepy vaqueros, in nightshirts, darted into the cool morning air.
The Bear and the Bull Page 6
