men on matters which seemed to begin in nothing and end in dust.
Musicians were quartered in the mansion for the period of the festivities; there was the sound of harp and violin far into the night. Carcasses of beeves were spread on spits over deep channels of coals; white bread, viands of the mighty of that land, were set out each evening when the laborers returned from the fields. It was a season of generosity for those under the hand of Don Abrahan, transcending any event of the kind within the recollection of the oldest peon.
On the last day of this celebration Don Abrahan feasted his guests on cabeza de toro, which is to say bull's head, a dish not unknown to Californians who are descendants of the dons of that period, even in this unromantic day. On this climax of the celebration of Don Roberto's return, four bulls' heads were served, a magnificence of entertainment unequaled, attesting to the love Don Abrahan bore for his only son.
The manner of preparing cabeza de toro grew out of expediency in the beginning, perhaps; in the end it had become a thing almost reverential, equal to a sacrificial rite. The head was taken, just as separated from the body, horns, hair, ears, eyes, and all, and singed as carefully as might be over a blaze of light brushwood. No water ever touched the head in process of preparation. Water would have been a profanation of ancient customs; perhaps one drop would have spoiled the dish.
