ed that the Chihuahua trail might have some such
unseen existence as the redoubtable "Banks" aforesaid, which, however
familiar to codfish, are seldom visited by Christians.

"The evening star will rise straight above our heads to-night," said
Hermose,--and he was correct; our path lay exactly in the very line with
that bright orb. The confidence inspired by this prediction increased
as we found that an occasional prickly pear-tree now presented itself,
with, here and there, a dwarf-box or an acacia. As night closed in, we
found ourselves on the skirt of what seemed a dense wood, bordered by
the course of a dried-up torrent. A great wide "streak" of rocks and
stones attested the force and extent of that river when filled by the
mountain streams, but which now trickled along among the pebbles with
scarcely strength enough to force its way. Hermose proceeded for some
distance down into the bed of the torrent, and returned with a handful
of sand and clay, which he presented to Halkett, saying, "The rains have
not been heavy enough; this is last year's earth."

Few as were the words, they conveyed to me an immense impression of his
skill, who, in a few grains of sand taken at random, could distinguish
the deposits of one year from those of another.

"How does it look, Halkett?" cried one.

"Is it heavy?" asked another.

"It is worthless," said Halkett, throwing the earth from him. "But we
are on the right track, lads, for all that; there 's always gold where
the green snake frequents."

It was a mystery at the time to me how Halkett knew of the serpent's
vicinity; for although I looked eagerly around me, I saw no trace of
one.

"I vow he's a-sarchin' for the Coppernose," said a Yankee, as he laughed
heartily at my ignorance.

"Do you see that bird there upon the bough of the cedar-tree?" said
Halkett. "That's the 'Choyero;' and wherever he's found, the Coppernose
is never far off." The mystery was soon explained in this wise: the
"Choyero" is in the habit of enveloping himself in the leaves of a
certain prickly cactus called "Choya," with which armor he attacks the
largest of these green serpents, and always successfully,--the strong,
thorny spines of the plant invariably inflicting death-wounds upon the
snake. Some asserted that the bird only attacked the snake during his
season of torpor, but others stoutly averred that the Choyero was a
match for any Coppernose in his perfect vigor.

The approach of the long-s