they slackened their pace at the sight, riding very
slowly towards him.

As they approached, he commenced shaking his head, pawing the earth, and
bellowing furiously. Then he began to move slowly around in a circle,
throwing clouds of dust high in the air, and almost making the ground
shake with his angry bellowings; finally turning, however, he galloped
slowly away over the plain.

Away went the ox, and away went the boys after him: it was a run for life
on the one side; on the other, a chase for glory.

Hal, who was a short distance in advance of Ned, anxious to get his rope
first over the horns, finally made a cast with his lasso. At the same
moment, his pony stumbled, and away went Hal over his head, landing some
feet nearer the ox than he expected to do when he made the cast.

Ned, who was just behind, now thundered past with lasso in hand, ready
raised to take advantage of Hal's mishap. He threw it; but the noose fell
short of the object aimed at, and encircled a stout _yucca_, that
_would_ stand directly in the way.

And now the ox, as though understanding the misfortunes that had befallen
his pursuers, turned, and made a furious charge in the direction of the
already discomforted _lazadors_. Seeing him coming towards them,
with lolling tongue, protruding eyes, and angry bellowings, they began to
realize, that, in their case at least, discretion was the better part of
valor. Both turned and fled, leaving pony, lasso, and their courage,
behind them.

The race now assumed another phrase: it was for safety on the one side,
and revenge on the other.

On came the boys, Ned in the lead, on his pony, and Hal bringing up the
rear on foot; behind them, the ox, whose bellowing each moment grew
louder and more furious. Suddenly, Hal disappeared behind a clump of
mesquite; but the ox kept on in his efforts to overtake Ned, whose pony
was straining every nerve to reach the wagons in advance of his pursuer.

When the animal came within rifle-range, Jerry quietly stepped out and
shot him through the head. Ned rode up breathless, upon his panting pony,
and said to one of the Mexicans,--

"Say, Juan, how do you throw a lasso? I thought I knew all about it; but
I reckon I don't."

Hal soon came in, his hands full of thorns, his eyes full of dust, and
his clothes much the worse for his encounter with the ground, protesting,
however, that, if his pony hadn't stumbled, he should have had the old
fellow, sure.

"But your