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Updated: May 5, 2025
Mexican Juan says that an Indian devil has taken possession of the big brute and that only a silver bullet blessed by a priest can kill him; and, in proof of his belief, he told me that he himself had shot five lead bullets at El Feroz and that he had heard the devil laugh when the bullets struck and fell hot and flattened to the ground.
In the meantime Bud had thrown the great hide of the grizzly to the ground with the information that it was the skin of El Feroz himself. "How did you kill him?" "Who shot him?" and, with shouts of wonder and delight, all the men and the boys, who had not gone into the sala with the body of the dead miner, crowded around the skin of the fallen monarch.
"No," panted the boy, as he leaped into his saddle. "It's El Feroz; and if I've got anything to say about it, he has made his last kill. Come on," and his eyes glinted with wrath and excitement, as he dug his spurs into the flanks of Gray Cloud and galloped furiously up the hill. "El Feroz! Bully!" and Thure, with an exultant yell, struck the spurs into his horse and galloped along by his side.
And you, Juan, take the hide of El Feroz and let us see how fine a robe you can make out of it." "Si, si, señor," answered the old Mexican exultingly. "He, the ugly brute, kill my wife's brother, Pedro, whom I, like my own brother, loved, and 'twill give my soul peace one fine robe to make out of his big skin. A great glory, the killing of El Feroz, señor," and his old eyes kindled.
They knew he would fight; and, if they had been afoot, they would not have dared to attack the evil monster, armed though they were with rifles and so skilful in their use that they could cut the head off a wild goose at a hundred yards. But, seated on the backs of their fleet and well-trained horses and on a smooth and open field like the one before them, they did not fear even El Feroz himself.
The tomb of Feroz Khan, opposite to the third milestone on the Gwalior road, is an interesting building of Akbar's time, richly carved and decorated with tile-work. Close by is the tomb of the Pahalwari, where a celebrated wrestler of Shah Jahan's time is buried.
Evidently El Feroz had only contempt for the puny prowess of man. "Well, we'll soon teach him better manners, the ugly brute! Come on," and Bud Randolph and Thure Conroyal both started slowly toward the grizzly, loosening the strong ropes that hung from the pommels of their saddles as they rode. There was no need of haste.
"Well," grinned Thure reminiscently, "if it don't turn out better than did our attempt to rope a grizzly when I was with Fremont, I say shoot the grizzly first and rope him afterward. Now, it won't be no joke roping El Feroz, even if everything is in our favor," and his face sobered.
Now he always carries a silver bullet with him that he had a priest bless when he was down to San Francisco last fall; and the next time he meets El Feroz he expects to kill him with the holy bullet. He showed me the silver bullet," and Thure laughed. "But I'm willing to put my trust in lead, if it hits the right spot, Indian devil or no devil. Now, look at El Feroz.
Then he saw that Thure was slowly gaining, that the rope, which still clutched the hind leg of the grizzly, was slowly tightening; and, with breathless haste, he began reloading his rifle. He had had all the roping of El Feroz he wanted; and now his only desire was to get a bullet into the huge body, where it would kill quickly, as speedily as possible.
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