e as composed as his
father's, and his tiny hand grasping the end of the flapping rein with
a touch scarcely lighter than the skillful rider's own. It was a lovely
morning; though warm and still, there was a faint haze--a rare thing in
that climate--on the distant range. The sun-baked soil, arid and thirsty
from the long summer drought, and cracked into long fissures, broke
into puffs of dust, with a slight detonation like a pistol-shot, at each
stroke of our pounding hoofs. Suddenly my horse swerved in full gallop,
almost lost his footing, "broke," and halted with braced fore feet,
trembling in every limb. I heard a shout from Enriquez at the same
instant, and saw that he too had halted about a hundred paces from me,
with his hand uplifted in warning, and between us a long chasm in the
dry earth, extending across the whole field. But the trembling of the
horse continued until it communicated itself to me. I was shaking,
too, and, looking about for the cause, when I beheld the most weird and
remarkable spectacle I had ever witnessed. The whole llano, or plain,
stretching to the horizon-line, was DISTINCTLY UNDULATING! The faint
haze of the hills was repeated over its surface, as if a dust had arisen
from some grinding displacement of the soil. I threw myself from my
horse, but the next moment was fain to cling to him, as I felt the
thrill under my very feet. Then there was a pause, and I lifted my
head to look for Enriquez. He was nowhere to be seen! With a terrible
recollection of the fissure that had yawned between us, I sprang to the
saddle again, and spurred the frightened beast toward that point. BUT
IT WAS GONE, TOO! I rode backward and forward repeatedly along the line
where I had seen it only a moment before. The plain lay compact and
uninterrupted, without a crack or fissure. The dusty haze that had
arisen had passed as mysteriously away; the clear outline of the valley
returned; the great field was empty!

Presently I was aware of the sound of galloping hoofs. I remembered
then--what I had at first forgotten--that a few moments before we had
crossed an arroyo, or dried bed of a stream, depressed below the level
of the field. How foolish that I had not remembered! He had evidently
sought that refuge; there were his returning hoofs. I galloped toward
it, but only to meet a frightened vaquero, who had taken that avenue of
escape to the rancho.

"Did you see Don Enriquez?" I asked impatiently.

I saw that the m