Miners from the hills were there, Mexican
sheep-herders, storekeepers from Placerville, strangers from
Sacramento; town and county, mountain and plain, were represented. The
hay-wagon went so well that another was brought into market. The barn
roof was sold out. An ominous crack of the timbers somewhat shook the
prices, but a couple of strong uprights below restored the market, and
all "The Corners" was ready and eager for the great fight. Men who had
been raised among cattle were betting on the bull.
"I tell you, there ain't nothing on earth kin face a big range bull
that hez good use of hisself."
But the hillmen were backing the Bear. "Pooh, what's a bull to a
Grizzly? I tell you, I seen a Grizzly send a horse clean over the
Hetch-Hetchy with one clip of his left. Bull! I'll bet he'll never
show up in the second round."
So they wrangled and bet, while burly women, trying to look fetching,
gave themselves a variety of airs, were "scared at the whole thing,
nervous about the uproar, afraid it would be shocking," but really
were as keenly interested as the men.
All was ready, and the boss of "The Corners" shouted: "Let her go,
boys; house is full an' time's up!"
Faco Tampico had managed to tie a bundle of chaparral thorn to the
bull's tail, so that the huge creature had literally lashed himself
into a frenzy.
Jack's hogshead meanwhile had been rolled around till he was raging
with disgust, and Faco, at the word of command, began to pry open the
door.
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