so called in
contradistinction to the _Indios bravos_, the savages who, from the
conquest till this day, have never submitted themselves to Spanish rule.
Though Christianised, after a fashion, by the Franciscans, with others
of the missionary fathers--living in walled towns, each with its
_capilla_ or church, and cultivating the lands around, many of these
so-called Christian Indians still continue to practice Pagan rites, more
or less openly. In some of their villages, it is said, the _estafa_, or
sacred fire, is kept burning, and has never been permitted to go out
since the time of Montezuma, from whom and his people they believe
themselves descended. They are undoubtedly of Aztec race, and
sun-worshippers, as were the subjects of the unfortunate Emperor of
Tenochtitlas.

Travellers who have visited their more remote "pueblos" have witnessed
something of this sun-worship, seeing them ascend to the flat roofs of
their singularly constructed houses, and there stand in fixed attitude,
devoutly gazing at the sun as it ascends over the eastern horizon.

Notwithstanding the epithet "tame," which their Spanish conquerors have
applied to them, they are still more than half wild; and, upon
occasions, the savage instinct shows itself in deeds of cruelty and
blood.

This very instinct has been kindled in the heart of Manuel. It was not
devotion to Don Valerian Miranda that moved him to follow the fortunes
of his master into exile; his love for Conchita accounts for his
presence there. And he loves her with an ardour and singleness of
passion such as often burns in the breasts of his people.

The girl has given him no encouragement, rather the reverse. For all
that, he has pursued her with zealous solicitation, regardless of
rebuffs and apparently unconscious of her scorn.

Hitherto he has had no rival, which has hindered him from despairing.
Conchita is still young, in her earliest teens, having just turned
twelve. But even at this age a New Mexican maiden is deemed old enough
for matrimony; and Manuel, to do justice to him, has eyes upon her with
this honest intent. For months he had made up his mind to have her for
his wife--long before their forced flight into the Llano Estacado. And
now that they are in the desert, with no competitor near--for Chico does
not count as one--he has fancied the time come for the consummation of
his hopes.

But just when the fair fruit seems ripe for plucking, like the fox in
the