on
eagerly in spite of his English training.

"Caramba!" he cried, "but that old bull is tough. Look, Elena! The
little one is down. No, no! He has the big one. Ay! yi, yi! By Jove! he
is gone--no, he has run off--he is on him again! He has ripped him up!
Brava! brava!"

A cheer as from one throat made the mountains echo, but Elena still held
her fan before the field.

"How canst thou like such bloody sport?" she asked disgustedly. "The
poor animals! What pleasure canst thou take to see a fine brute kicking
in his death-agony, his bowels trailing on the ground?"

"Fie, Elena! Art thou not a Californian? Dost thou not love the sport of
thy country? Why, look at the other girls! They are mad with excitement.
By Jove! I never saw so many bright eyes. I wonder if I shall be too
stiff to dance to-night. Elena, she gave me a beating! But tell me,
little one, why dost thou not like the bull-fight? I feel like another
man since I have seen it."

"I cannot be pleased with cruelty. I shall never get used to see beasts
killed for amusement. And Don Dario Castanares does not like it either.
He never smiled once, nor said 'Brava!'"

"Aha! And how dost thou know whether he did or not? I thought thy face
was behind that big black fan."

"I saw him through the sticks. What does 'By Jove' mean, my Santiago?"

He enlightened her, then stood up eagerly. Another bull had been brought
in, and one of the vaqueros was to fight him. During the next two hours
Santiago gave little thought to his sister, and sometimes her long
black lashes swept above the top of her fan. When five or six bulls had
stamped and roared and gored and died, the guests of Los Quervos went
home to chocolate and siesta, the others returned to their various
ranchos.

But Dario took no nap that day. Twice he had seen an Indian girl at
Elena's window, and as the house settled down to temporary calm, he saw
the girl go to the rancheria among the willows. He wrote a note, and
followed her as soon as he dared. She wore a calico frock, exactly like
a hundred others, and her stiff black hair cut close to her neck in the
style enforced by Dona Jacoba; but Dario recognized her imitation of
Elena's walk and carriage. He was very nervous, but he managed to stroll
about and make his visit appear one of curiosity. As he passed the girl
he told her to follow him, and in a few moments they were alone in
a thicket. He had hard work to persuade her to take the note to her
mist