El Bruto / The Brute

El Bruto / The Brute

by Bill Bethel

Range cattle, particularly in the South Texas brush, can become wild and dangerous.  This is the story of one such animal.

The story is told where vaqueros (1) roam and anywhere cowboys assemble,

     Of a great, feral bull on the South Texas range, so fierce he made the brave tremble.

No cowhand around could e’er take him down—a foe who left all braggarts mute;

     El Bruto’s his name in the Mexican lang, in English they call him The Brute;

Sans ear-notch or brand, and claimed by no man, Bruto knew neither lord nor master;

     No fence that was made could his wanderings dissuade, he grazed any pasto (2) or pasture.

To place a prized bull with vaquilla (3) or cow, was known as a high-risk wager;

     For man and for beast, when Brute was around there was no dearth of danger.

It happened one day at a roundup in May, when cattle were flushed from brush dens,

     El Bruto was found to be hanging around; with the herd he was hazed toward the pens.

A pickup was used—horse not to abuse—to crowd him into the trap;

     Things soon ran amuck, he demolished the truck, and left it a pile of scrap.

The Brute jumped a fence, found some registered cows, and courtship soon began;

     The rancher was bold; despite what was known, he wouldn’t be forced from his plan.

A pedigreed bull he turned in with the cows, though he knew of the El Bruto hazard;

     Word soon quickly spread the herd bull was dead, and scavenged by coyote (4) and buzzard.

The ranch owner looked at the foreman and said—his face turning scarlet with rage,

     “If he’s on my ground, I want The Brute found and forever removed from the range.

“Go put out a call for vaqueros and dogs, bring guns even if they must borrow;

     “If they’ve a brave heart and all do their part, we’ll have Bruto gone by tomorrow.”

The foreman inspected the riders who came: audacious, seasoned, and hard;

     The dogs that were with them were right for the part: lean, strong, eager, and scarred.

Then he noticed a rider who clashed with the rest, a young fellow raised in a town;

     Though a likeable sort who lived on a ranch he evoked from the foreman a frown.

A cowboy named Barrett, on a gold horse named Carrot, with two curs named Mano (5) and Lady;

     With a gun by his side, volunteered for the ride for he knew the matter was weighty.

But the boss shook his head, “You’ve no place here,” he said and concluded with laugh and retort,

     “Your dogs are too tame, your horse would get maimed, go home, you’re too green for the sport.”

Barrett nodded and sighed, let the cowboys ride by, then returned to his own work at home.

     The crew found the place where the herd bull lost face then spread out, the pasture to comb;

The dogs were sent out with barks and with shouts while vaqueros longed for the glory;

     The uproar was such Brute stepped from the brush, and they got their first look at the quarry.

A dark, brindled hide cloaked the devil inside; strength oozed from each muscle and joint;

     Fierce heavy-based horns reached out from the poll, curved forward then up to a point.

With deep, barreled chest; and crested, thick neck; a head—coarse, curly, and wide;

     His lithe, brawny bulk stamped a pit with each step; his legs moved a ton with each stride.

El Bruto turned tail and crashed through the veil of ominous cacti and lotebush;

     The hounds bayed the game and harried the same through a jungle of thorny blackbrush;

“Spread out,” came the cry, “and station yourselves at spots around the thicket.

     “The Brute must come out, and when he does, we’ll be there to punch his ticket.”

One rider moved far from the others afield, to see what fate would reveal,

     When lo, Bruto flushed from the brush to his front, the dogs close at his heel;

When pushed to the bounds, The Brute parried the hounds and flung a pierced dog through the air.

     With dogs brushed aside, he turned and he spied the horse and rider pair.

The rider spurred horse, he raced toward the bull, and twirled a loop as he came.

     El Bruto pawed dirt, he charged to the fray, and lowered his head to maim.

The horse quickly sped, all caution had fled; bull lunged, horse dodged—but too slow;

     A horn ripped his side, fear showed in his eyes, and he died disemboweled by the foe.

The rider rolled free, in haste climbed a tree, his senses were ever so keen.

     He cussed at the bull, he yelled out for help, the venture for him lost its sheen.

Amigo (6) appeared, saw his friend’s deadly peril, The Brute with foul language he dissed;

     He charged for the bull, pulled the gun from his side, fired at El Bruto and missed.

His horse came undone at the sound of the gun; thrown rider was in great alarm;

     The Brute rushed the man, knocked him down in the sand, left him trampled and gored in the arm.

When crew and the dogs closed in from the sides; Bruto fled to the thicket dense;

     The dogs chased The Brute until he got away, o’er the perimeter fence.

Later that day, and some miles away, at the ranch of Barrett’s abode,

     The cowboy was out, he was riding about to check how the well waters flowed.

His dogs drifted off to an encino (7) motte (8), they were looking for some scent to follow;

     Barrett pulled Carrot up and cast eyes about when before him he saw a fresh wallow.

Bruto hid from the heat in the shade of mesquite, near a tank ’neath an old papalote (9);

     He first smelled the man, then watched him ride close, eyes wary as grizzled coyote (10).

When the man looked his way Brute rose from the ground, and into the clearing he barged;

     With pate held aloft, he advanced at a trot then lowered his head and charged.

Carrot side-stepped the charge then flattened both ears and viciously bit Bruto’s rump;

     Brute quickly turned ’round, dropped his head toward the ground, and his horn tips at Carrot he pumped.

Barrett used all his might to hold on real tight; he gleaned from the bull’s grunting sound

     His life was the prize in this death-gamble ride, as Bruto and Carrot spun round.

In the blink of an eye the cur dogs flashed by and brought The Brute to bay;

     His reprisal they dodged; an attack they did launch, their fangs had a few things to say;

Lady grabbed Bruto’s ear without falter or fear; The Brute shook her but could not get free;

     Mano sprang at the face, clamped down on the nose, and brought the great bull to his knees.

Barrett snaked out a loop, heeled El Bruto’s back legs, and tripped him to the ground;

     He stretched out the bull, pulled his gun from his hip, then heard a great bellow sound—

The Brute wasn’t done.  He fought off the dogs and wrest himself free from the pair,

     Then used his great size to struggle and rise…the sound of two shots filled the air.

Time passes away but some memories stay, of things not easily forgotten;

     Like Bruto’s great fame to kill and to maim and the death fight that Barrett was caught in.

But Barrett stands tall in the eyes of most all, when neighbors and friends come to call,

     For they see on the floor that dark, brindled hide, and the head of The Brute on the wall.

1 vaquero—(bah-keh-roh); cowboy

2 pasto—(pahs-toh); grassland, pasture

3 vaquilla—(bah-kee-yah); heifer

4 coyote—(kahy-oht); English pronunciation; small, wolf-like dog

5 mano—(mah-noh); buddy

6 amigo—(ah-mee-goh); friend

7 encino—(ehn-see-noh); oak

8 motte—(maht) English pronunciation; in the southwestern US it is a stand of trees; a grove

9 papalote—(pah-pah-loh-teh); windmill

10 coyote—(koh-yoh-teh) Spanish pronunciation; small wolf-like dog