"_Bravo, toro! bravissimo_!" was heard on all sides. All eyes were now
turned upon the enraged animal, and his one remaining pursuer. Both
were still near enough to be well observed, for the chase had led
hitherto, not in one line, but in different directions over the plain;
so that the bull was actually no farther from the crowd than when first
overtaken by the dragoon. He was at this moment running in a cross
course, so that every movement of both pursuer and pursued could be well
observed from the stand.

At the first glance it was plain that the bull had now behind him the
handsomest horse and horseman upon the field--would they prove the best?
That was to be tried.

The horse was a large coal-black _mustang_, with a long full tail,
pointed at the tip, and carried like the brush of a running fox. Even
while in gallop, his neck slightly curved, and his proud figure,
displayed against the smooth sward, called forth expressions of
admiration.

The rider was a young man of twenty or over; and his light curling hair
and white-red complexion distinguished him from all his competitors--who
were, without exception, dark-skinned men. He was dressed in full
ranchero costume, with its rich broidery and trappings; and instead of
the usual "serape," he wore a purple _manga_--a more graceful, as well
as costlier garment. The long skirts of this he had flung behind him,
in order to have his arms free; and its folds, opening to the breeze,
added to the gracefulness of his carriage in the saddle.

The sudden appearance of this splendid horseman--for, hanging in the
rear with folded manga, he seemed not to have been noticed before,--
caused unusual attention, and many were heard inquiring his name.

"_Carlos the cibolero_!" cried a voice, loud enough to satisfy all at
once.

Some evidently knew who "Carlos the cibolero" was, though by far the
greater number on the ground did not. Of the former, one was heard
inquiring--

"Why hasn't he come up before?--He could have done so if he had wished."

"_Carrambo_! yes," added another. "He might have done so. He only hung
back to give the others a trial. He knew none of them could throw
_that_ bull. _Mira_!"

The speaker's conjecture was, no doubt, correct.

It was plain, at first sight, that this rider could easily overtake the
bull. His horse was still in a gentle gallop, and, though his ears were
set and his red nostrils staring open, it was only through the
ex