the
woman; and, picking up her jar, with a smile, she left us.

"I say, Raowl, does she consint?"

"She hasn't made up her mind yet."

"By the holy vistment! thin it's all up wid Murt. The saints won't save
him. Take another dhrap, Raowl!"

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

THE DANCE OF THE TAGAROTA.

Night fell, and the blazing fagots threw their glare over the patio,
striking upon objects picturesque at all times, but doubly so under the
red light of the pine fires. The grouping of guerilleros--their broad,
heavy hats, many of them plumed--their long black hair and pointed
beards--their dark, flashing eyes--their teeth, fierce and white--the
half-savage expression of their features--their costumes, high-coloured
and wild-like--all combined in impressing us with strange feelings.

The mules, the mustangs, the dogs, the peons, the slippered wenches,
with their coarse trailing tresses, the low roofs, the iron-barred
windows, the orange-trees by the fountain, the palms hanging over the
wall, the glistening cocuyos, were all strange sights to us.

The sounds that rang in our ears were not more familiar. Even the
voices of the men, unlike the Saxon, sounded wild and sharp. It was the
Spanish language, spoken in the _patois_ of the Aztec Indians. In this
the guerilleros chatted, and sang, and swore. There was a medley of
other sounds, not less strange to our ears, as the dogs howled and
barked their bloodhound notes--as the mustangs neighed or the mules
whinnied--as the heavy sabre clanked or the huge spur tinkled its tiny
bells--as the _poblanas_ (peasant-women), sitting by some group, touched
the strings of their bandolons, and chanted their half-Indian songs.

By a blazing pile, close to where we sat, a party of guerilleros, with
their women, were dancing the _tagarota_, a species of fandango.

Two men, seated upon raw-hide stools, strummed away upon a pair of
bandolons, while a third pinched and pulled at the strings of an old
guitar--all three aiding the music with their shrill, disagreeable
voices.

The dancers formed the figure of a parallelogram, each standing opposite
his partner, or rather moving, for they were never at rest, but kept
constantly beating time with feet, head, and hands. The last they
struck against their cheeks and thighs, and at intervals clapped them
together.

One would suddenly appear as a hunchback, and, dancing out into the
centre of the figure, perform various antics to attra