Young Zorro by Diego Vega Page A

flannel rags to warm them before the sun came. They hobbled to the cook fire for porridge and hot chocolate.
    Diego awoke stiff and sore. He rode every day, but he didn’t herd cattle on cow ponies: this was another kind of riding that used a new set of muscles. And every one of those muscles was aching. His eyes were crusty and his tongue felt like a saddle blanket.Bernardo brought him a mug of chocolate and pointed toward the horses. Most of the vaqueros had saddled their first mounts of the day.
    â€œI’ll be ready in a heartbeat,” Diego said.
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    Later they stopped their first mounts at a little stream to wash their faces. As they knelt in the sand, Bernardo pointed to a patch of soil nearby. There was a big print in it, still moist and clear.
    â€œSt. Bernard’s bees!” Diego whispered, then looked quickly around for danger. “That’s one big grizzly bear! I don’t want to meet him, and for sure not in a gully like this. Let’s get out of this streambed.”
    They splashed another handful of water on their faces and mounted up. Then they heard the roar and the squeal.
    It was a deep, throaty rumble, as loud as a landslide. The squeal was from a horse in pain. Diego’s horse sidestepped nervously, but he touched the flanks with his spurs and got up the slope.
    A stone’s throw away they saw a massive grizzly bear, as big as a haystack. His brown, loose fur quivered and shook as he roared again, one massive paw on the neck of a downed horse that was kicking feebly, screaming in pain. Some of the camp’s tethered horses had pulledout their stakes and were galloping away, trailing their tethers between their legs. Some of the stakes held. The horses tied to them reared and screeched, their eyes almost all white in terror.
    Diego was frozen, so frightened he couldn’t move. He could see Bernardo in the corner of his eye, just as terrified by the awful spectacle.
    Over the earsplitting roar, they heard whoops and drumming hooves. Scar, Juan, and most of the crew galloped almost right up to the grizzly. It was difficult for Diego to understand, but they seemed delighted.
    The grizzly’s rubbery nose was turned up, and his lips pulled back to bare his teeth as he stood his ground. He wasn’t giving up his prey. The bleeding horse whimpered; the tethered horses continued to scream.
    The vaqueros circled, their reatas whistling above their heads. Scar’s was the first to dart out, tightening around the bear’s thick, shoulderless neck.
    The bear swiped at the reata, sending a jerk along it that jolted Scar and his pony, but they held firm as Juan’s loop folded around the bear’s head over Scar’s. Both men dallied and backed down their ponies. The loops tightened.
    The grizzly’s roar rose. He wanted to swat these newcreatures with the snaking vines, but their vines choked him. Angrier than ever, he rose on his hind feet, bellowing defiance.
    Mesmerized, the boys leaned back in unison. A grizzly on all fours was big. A standing grizzly was huge, taller than a man on a horse. They had only heard of elephants, but they couldn’t be any bigger than this!
    The bear dropped down on all fours to make a charge, but as soon as his hind leg rose for another step, a third loop from Pedro Cinque caught it. Another loop caught his neck. Another snagged his forepaws as he swiped the air. The circle of ponies backed down unsteadily, straining at the live load. The grizzly toppled to the grass, bawling and flailing.
    Diego’s mind was working at an incredible rate. He saw everything sharply, in the same way that ideas and solutions sometimes came to him. The grizzly’s claws were as big as boot knives. He could see the wet, quivering nose, the big pouchy cheeks, the tiny eyes set deep.
    The vaqueros were excited. This was their own grand sport. Spaniards could talk about bullfights with their fancy matadores , but let them come to California