Part 6

One glance at the blazing barn drove all sleep from their eyes and they rushed toward the fire; their one thought being to save the horses and bulls; the bulls that were to fight in to-morrow’s fight and which had been reared and fatted for this express purpose. Apart from the great financial loss, it would spoil to-morrow’s sport for thousands and thousands of Spaniards and Mexicans who were anxiously awaiting the great event. These men, being Mexicans, did not think it cruel to sacrifice bulls and horses and men even in these fights, which are national affairs; but we think if the poor animals knew what was awaiting them on the morrow, they would not have tried so frantically to escape death by fire.

As Stubby and his master were approaching the barn, one end of the roof fell in--that end where Billy’s stall was, and on seeing this Stubby gave a howl of despair; but the next second was blinking to see if his eyes were not deceiving him, for who should come out of the stall door with a bound but Billy! The goat had at last succeeded in chewing his rope in two, and, that done, it was an easy matter to butt down the door. Better yet, the bulls, seeing this opening, had broken out of their stalls and were following Billy. The roof had caught on some strong cross-beams and had not fallen on the cattle in the stalls.

Soon all the bulls were out, but to get the horses out was another matter, for, as you know, horses will remain in a burning building in spite of everything, unless you can cover their heads and lead them out, and even then it is a hard matter to get them to stay out. With the help of all hands, however, they succeeded in saving the horses, but none too soon, for as the last one was led out, the whole barn crushed in and a few minutes more was nothing but a red heap of burning timbers. Stubby’s master was so thankful for the escape of his expensive horses and valuable bulls that he did not give the loss of the barn a second thought, and when it was all over he called Stubby and said:

“Boys, do you see this little dog? Well, if it had not been for him all my valuable stock would have been buried under that bed of burning coals and I should have been a poor man, as all my wealth is tied up in horses and cattle. It was he who awakened me and gave the alarm of fire. For this he shall have a collar of gold with this motto inscribed upon it, ‘_To Stubby for saving forty lives this collar is affectionately dedicated by his master, Carlos Otero._’ Stubby can always wear this collar as Billy does his, telling of this brave deed.”

The night watchman, hearing what had happened through his neglect, never came back, as he was too ashamed and afraid to face his master.

Every one wondered how the barn caught on fire; some thought the watchman had set it on fire, others thought one of the stable boys had been careless about smoking and a spark from his pipe had set fire to the hay; but no one but Stubby really knew about the two tramps whose pipes had done all the mischief.

_The Bull-Fight._

Two days after the fire all was bustle and confusion at the farm, for this was the day of the long anticipated bull-fight that was to occur in Mexico City and for which these especial bulls had been raised and fattened. It was barely sunrise when the little procession started for the city; the object in starting so soon being to avoid the crowd of people anxious to view the bulls before they reached the arena.

Billy Jr. and Stubby went along as a matter of course--they must see everything going--and they had no intentions whatsoever of missing the great fight, particularly as the odds were in favor of their favorite bull. Our Billy knew thoroughbreds when he saw them and could pick the winners. To-day’s favorite was strong of bone, supple of joint, solid of flesh, with a quick eye and a temper like a firecracker. He was handsome to look upon with his fine, short, glossy black coat and beautifully curved horns with tips like needles, that could pierce a horse’s skin and rip him open in the approved Mexican style. His eyes were large and brilliant and his nose with its sensitive nostrils as red as the cactus blossom of his native country. And how he could bellow and paw the ground when mad! Yes, Billy was sure he would win against all odds.

After they reached the city, he could hear the big bull stamping around in his stall and bellowing for his breakfast. His royal highness was not accustomed to be kept waiting, he was always fed on the dot--just at sunrise, and here it was twelve o’clock and not a bite, not even a whisp of hay. Had his master forgotten him? What an outrage after his long walk in from the farm! What in the world could be the meaning of such treatment? He little realized that he was being starved for a purpose.

“I tell you what it is, Billy,” he grumbled, “if that crazy stable boy don’t bring me something to eat soon, I’ll toss him over the barn.”

“Hark! what is that? I hear music. Don’t you? And the rumble of many feet as the crowd of people take their places in the amphitheatre.”

“You are right, Billy, the band is playing; it is almost time to begin. Well, if I don’t get something to eat before very long I’ll give them some sport worthy the name when I get into the arena. Shut up in here, treated so badly, and starved to death--I’ll make somebody pay well for it.”

“Listen,” said Billy, “they are clapping and stamping, impatient for the fight to begin.”

“They can’t begin any too soon to please me,” said Little Duke, which was the name of Billy’s favorite bull. “There goes Black Jack on his way to the ring. Billy, just hear the crowd cheer and shout! He must have stepped into the arena. He is a nasty one to handle when he is angry. If he gets a chance to dig his horns into one of those toreadors or horses, the man in the moon pity them and have mercy on them, for Black Jack won’t! It will be the last fight that man or horse ever sees.”

Bull after bull passed by their stall on their way to the arena, but none ever returned; and the band played and the people cheered until at last some one came for Little Duke, the flower of the flock. He, like the others, was led into the ring to be teased and tantalized, tortured and tormented until, crazy with pain and blind with fury, he would rip horse after horse open in his mad rage to get at the toreador who was goading him on with pricks from a long spear. And yet the blood-thirsty Mexicans yelled for more.

But all things must come to an end; and Billy thought that it was high time for this particular fight to come to an end right here. He had heard a bellow of rage from Little Duke, followed by a groan of agony. This was too much for Billy. When a friend called for help he could not stay away; so with one bound he was out of his stall and bang! against the little door that separated him from the arena. This gave way with a crash, and with a rush and a plunge Billy bounded into the ring.

The first thing he saw when clear of splinters and dust was a huge ampitheatre packed from the lowest to the highest row of seats with people, until the faces made a human curtain. In the arena lay disemboweled horses and slaughtered bulls. In the very center stood Little Duke, bleeding from a hundred wounds, but still unsubdued and defending himself nobly. There he stood with head erect, eyes blazing, and nostrils quivering, ready to kill the first man or horse that attacked him.

In a twinkling Billy took in the situation, and before the audience or fighters knew what had happened, Billy had tossed one toreador to one side, nearly breaking his back; had put another to flight; and then made straight for the horseman who had so cruelly tortured Little Duke. Just then an attendant opened a door, the man and horse escaped, and the ring was cleared.

Billy, going back to see how badly Little Duke was hurt, licked his nose in sympathy, and told him to brace up, for the fight was over for that day. This pathetic scene seemed to touch even the hard hearts of the Mexicans. They began to bid for the ownership of the goat and to cheer and cheer until they could have been heard many blocks from the amphitheatre.

At last Billy, perceived that he and his friend were standing alone in the centre of the big ring with every eye upon them. The next thing he noticed was that a little stubby-tailed yellow dog was circling round and round them, barking in great glee. The fight was over and Stubby had come to congratulate them.

Here ends the great bull-fight of the ninth of May, nineteen hundred and four.

_The Escape._

An hour after the bull-fight was over, Billy and Stubby could have been seen running first down one street, then down another, then through an alley, and lastly through the suburbs, leaving a cloud of dust behind them. They were running away from their master and his men who were trying to drive them back to the farm, but Billy and Stubby decided they did not want to return since all their friends, the bulls, but Little Duke whose life Billy had saved, had been killed.

They kept running until they were sure they could not be overtaken and then they stopped for breath and to decide where they wanted to go next. While nibbling the leaves from a bush, Billy, chancing to look up, saw straight ahead of him, looming up above trees and housetops, a high mountain out of which a column of smoke was curling like a black plume against the clear, blue sky.

“Look! Stubby, see what a big bon-fire there is on that mountain.”

“That isn’t a bon-fire,” said Stubby. “That is a volcano and its name is Popocatapetl. It sounds as if they were saying, poke-a-cat-with-a-paddle. I expect someone at sometime poked a cat with a paddle on that mountain and that is how it got its name, something after the manner of the Indians who give their children the name of the first thing the mother sees after they are born. I suppose the chiefs Blackhawk and Whitehorse got theirs in that way, as for Mud-in-the-face, some one must have thrown mud in the mother’s face at the critical moment.”

“Oh Stubby! You are too funny for anything. Where did you learn so much?”

“Oh! from listening to what the people were saying round me when I was out with my master.”

“You are a very observing dog and it would be a good thing if more people followed your example, then they would learn a great deal even if they never went to school.”

“How far do you suppose it is to that volcano?” asked Stubby.

“I’m sure I don’t know. I have given up guessing distances in this locality or in any mountainous country. That reminds me, did you ever hear the story of the joke on the Englishman who came to Colorado Springs and started to walk to the mountains he saw back of the hotel, thinking he could reach them and return before breakfast? I know you have for every one has.”

“Go ahead and tell it. I want to hear it.”

“These mountains proved to be over a hundred miles away, though they looked only five. So the next day when he went for a walk, coming to a little stream, that one could easily step over, he instead sat down and commenced taking off his shoes and stockings to the surprise of his friend who was with him who asked what he was doing.”

“I was fooled on your distances yesterday, but I won’t be to-day. This may look like a narrow stream, but if I try to step over, it will broaden out and prove to be a river, so I’m getting ready to wade across.”

This story made Stubby roll over on his back and fairly howl with mirth, not only because it was funny but because he had heard it told a hundred times and no two people had told it in the same way, and he wanted to hear how Billy would tell it.

The cunning Stubby took good care not to let Billy know that he had ever heard the story before, for good friends as they were, Billy might not like to be made fun of, besides his horns were sharp.

Stubby’s rolls and laughter were cut short by hearing a great clatter of horses’ hoofs on the hard road behind them.

“Hurry and hide, Billy. It must be a party of Mexicans racing on their way home from the Bull-fight.”

Stubby was right. They were Mexican cow-boys out on a lark. When they saw Billy’s head sticking above the bushes, one said in broken Spanish, “Now for some fun,” at the same time unfastening his lasso from the pummel on his saddle where it always hung and with a twirling tongue, uttered this cry “Cha-r-r-r-ah!” He swung the lasso three times round his head and as he did so the loop widened and lengthened until with a hissing sound it descended, encircling Billy’s neck and the next second he was jerked over the bush he was hiding behind and dragged at a fast run after the cow-boy who was spurring his pony to catch up with those who were ahead.

“Well! Carlos, what have you there?” called one of the boys, when he saw him dragging Billy behind him.

“I’ve got a dandy billy-goat. Now you fellows see what you can lasso and when we get back to the ranch we will raffle off what we catch or cook them for supper.”

“Good for you Carlos. That will be sport. There, I see something now I’m going to lasso,” meaning Stubby, who was following after Billy as fast as he could, for he would have followed Billy into the jaws of death, if need be.

Poor Stubby was very much surprised to feel a rope tighten around his neck and the next minute to feel himself lifted from the ground to the saddle before the cow-boy where he was held as they galloped on in their mad race toward the ranch where the cow-boys lived.

It is astonishing what some cow-boys can do with a lasso and how expert they may become in its use.

Presently, one of the boys spied a big turkey-buzzard sitting on top of a cactus-plant and with a whoop like an Indian, he was after it.

Before Mr. Buzzard had time to spread his wings and fly, he felt something hot twist around his neck, and the last thing he heard in this world was a merry laugh go up from the cow-boys at the idea of lassoing instead of shooting birds.

The cow-boy was going to throw his buzzard away but the others told him to bring it along as every one was to show, when he got back, what he had caught with his lasso.

Soon a terrible squealing was heard just ahead where one of the cow-boys had ridden, and when the others caught up to him they found he had succeeded in lassoing a brown and sandy-colored pig.

“Good for you Jake. Now we will have some roast pork and goat chops for supper and we will throw the bones to the turkey-buzzard.”

They did not know then that the big buzzard’s neck was broken.

They were now so near the ranch, it began to look as though some of the boys would fail to find anything to lasso, and they had agreed that those who had not succeeded in getting anything by the time they reached the ranch should clean and cook whatever had been caught.

“Well, I’ll be switched if I’ll do that,” said a great, tall cow-boy. “I’ll find something or die.”

As he said this, his eyes detected a gray something sneaking away behind some rocks, so he gave chase, not knowing what it was going to be. When this gray object heard his pony’s hoofs on the stone, it got frightened and left its hiding place behind a great boulder and took to its heels. Whizz! went the lasso, but instead of catching the wolf, for that is what it was, it coiled around the boulder, and the wolf had several leaps and strides the advantage. His failure to catch the wolf the first time, only made the cow-boy the more determined to have it at all costs in the end, and then the chase began: Over the rocks, round clumps of cacti, across ditches, the cow-boy steadily gaining, until with one long, mighty sweep of his arm the lasso stretched out and fell over the gray wolf’s head and he was captured.

Then like Billy, he was made to trot along behind the cow-boy’s pony until they came into the corral at the ranch. Once there, the cow-boys threw their saddles and bridles up on pegs in the stable and turned their ponies loose in the corral with a bunch of alfalfa to feed on. And now for the fun of seeing the boys, who failed to lasso anything, clean and cook the pig and goat. A coin was tossed to see which should be killed first. The head stood for the goat and the tail for the pig. The coin was flipped and up came tail so it was poor piggy’s fate to be killed first.

While two of the boys went to get a big iron kettle to boil water to scald him with, so they could scrape the bristles off, the others thought they would have some fun teasing Billy, but little did they suspect that their goat was the same goat they had seen that afternoon at the Bull-fight, clear the entire ring of horses, riders and toreadors, or they would not have been so anxious to tease him.

Billy bleated to Stubby to stay near him as he was going to watch his chance to jump the wall of the corral and make his escape before they had time to kill him and cut him up into goat chops.

“I am going to appear very gentle until they take this lasso off my neck and then we will see ‘Who is who and what is what.’”

Stubby barked back “All right, I will watch you and if you get into a fight, I will help you by biting the legs of whoever bothers you.”

“Say, Sam, that is too nice a looking goat to cut up into chops. I say we keep him and turn him loose with our goats on the range. Come here Mr. Billy and I will take the lasso off your neck.” He walked up to Billy and slipped the lasso off, giving his whiskers a parting pull. That settled it. Billy’s docility disappeared in a minute and before the cow-boy had taken a step he felt something sticking into him as if he had sat down on two darning needles and these needles were pushing farther and farther into him and urging him along at a fast trot until he felt a sudden boost and he found himself sitting on top of the corral wall, while the black goat landed on the other side followed by a little stubby-tailed yellow dog and both disappeared down a deep ravine and were lost sight of, and what is more, no one followed them or tried to bring them back.

_The Volcano._

As soon as Billy and Stubby were sure they were not being followed they stopped to rest and to form new plans.

“Stubby, what in the world are you carrying in your mouth?”

Dropping it so that he could answer, Stubby replied, “A nice, large piece of beef.”

“Beef! Where did you get any beef, I should like to know.”

“Well, you see I can’t live on grass and roots as you can and as I was pretty hungry, I took my chance of getting stoned and stole this piece as we ran by the smoke-house. Didn’t you notice the little house in the clump of bushes near the side of the corral wall?”

“No, I did not see it, or know that you were behind me until just now, for you did not bark, and I expected I would have to wait awhile for you to join me, but now I see that you had your mouth so full you could not bark. You go ahead and make a good supper of your steak and I will make mine of these tender, green leaves.”

As they ate they talked of their future and Billy said he was getting tired of Mexico as it had too much sand, cacti and other stickly plants and not enough water and grass.

“Now, I say, we get out of it as soon as we can, but how we are going to do that is a puzzle to me, for it seems to me the further we travel south from California the hotter it gets, and I say instead of traveling south as we have been doing, that we change our course and keep to the west. In that way we will come to the Pacific coast.

“When we get there we can follow the shore until we come to some town or city where we can take an ocean steamer and be carried away anywhere. Who cares where? just so that we get away from this hot, dusty country. Besides, I am very anxious for another ocean voyage and always have been since Day and I came from Constantinople.

“My! Stubby, how I should like to see my sweet little sister and dear father and mother again. And would it not be strange if we should happen to get on a ship bound for Boston? I can tell you, if we should have such luck I would not let the grass grow under my feet until I was back on the farm again.”

“I believe you are homesick,” said Stubby.

“You’re right I am.”

“Well, I don’t blame you for I, too, would be homesick if I had ever had a home with a sister and dear parents in it, but you see I have never known what it was to have a home or any one to care for me.”

“Just see how that old volcano is smoking now, and what a bright reflection it throws on the sky above it!”

“It is due west from here. What do you say to our going to the top of it and seeing what a volcano really does look like at close range? It may be our only chance to see one for they don’t have any in the United States.”

“Say we do, and perhaps, it is so high, we can see the ocean from its top. We shall then be able to see how far we have to travel before reaching the coast.”

“That is a good idea and we will follow it out. Now let us lie down here and spend the night and start early in the morning before the sun gets too hot.”

Ten minutes later they were both asleep with Stubby curled up under Billy’s nose. He always got as close to him as possible for company.

It took our travelers several days to reach the volcano and its summit, and those days were days of hardships, with little to eat or drink, and both were looking tired and thin when we met them again within a few feet of the opening of the crater.

“Billy, I think sight-seeing is pretty hard work, especially when you have to walk all the way and nearly die of thirst and hunger. These hot cinders and hardened lava are burning and cutting my feet all to pieces and I wish I had hoofs like yours.”

“Well, if you wish you had my hoofs, I wish I had your short hair, for I am almost suffocated with my long coat, besides the air in this altitude is hard to breathe. One gets out of breath so easily and feels as if there was nothing to the air. Phew! what’s that terrible odor? It smells as if a whole factory of sulphur matches had gone off at once. Hark! What is that rumbling noise? It sounds like thunder, but it can’t be that for the sky is without a cloud and is as blue as blue can be. Say, Stubby, did you feel the earth shake then? If we were down on the level I should think it were an earthquake. Gracious! did you hear that explosion and feel the earth shake again? We had better get out of this.”

Just then the smoke rolled away for a minute and they saw they were within a few feet of the top so they decided they would not give up, bad as the sulphur and smoke were, until they had taken one peep into the crater.

This one peep nearly cost Stubby his life, for just as he had crawled to the very brink and was looking down, down, down into the very bowels of the earth where lava was boiling and steam hissing, an extra whiff of sulphur arose from the boiling, seething mass below which choked and strangled him so he could not move.

Billy had jumped back barely in time to escape it and was just starting on a run down the cone away from this dangerous place when he heard a little whine and saw Stubby drop over on his side as if dead. With a bound Billy was back, and grabbing him by the nape of his neck, as a cat carries her kittens, he carried him down the volcano’s side to safety.

It took Stubby a long while to come to and when he did so he found his poor little torn and bleeding feet as well as his nose resting in the cool sands of a little stream, and all he had to do, if he wanted a drink, was to stick out his tongue and let the water run through his mouth.

“Well, Stubby, are you feeling better?” he heard Billy say when he tried to open his eyes to see where he was.

“How in the world did I get here? Can you tell me that? for I had given up the hope of ever getting off that hot volcano again.”