citement of the chase, and chafing at being hitherto checked. The
bridle-rein was, in fact, still tightly drawn.

As the speaker uttered the cautionary phrase "_Mira_!" a change was
suddenly observed in the manner of the horseman. He was about twenty
paces from the chase and directly in the rear. All at once his horse
sprang forward at double his former speed, and in a few stretches laid
himself alongside the bull. The rider was observed to grasp the long
outstretched tail, and then lean forward and downward. The next moment
he raised himself with a sudden jerk, and the huge horned creature
turned sprawling upon his back. The whole thing seemed to cost him no
more effort than if the bull had been a tom-cat. Loud "_vivas_!" broke
from the spectators, and the victorious horseman rode back in front of
the stand, modestly bowed his thanks, and then retired into the depth of
the crowd.

There were not wanting those who fancied that in bowing the eyes of the
cibolero were directed on the fair Catalina de Cruces; and some went so
far as to assert that she smiled and looked content; but that could not
be. The heiress of the rich Don Ambrosio smile to a compliment from a
cibolero!

There was one, however, who _did_ smile. That was a fair-haired,
fair-skinned girl, who stood upon one of the carretas, by the side of
which the victor had placed himself. Side by side those two faces
seemed one. They were of one blood,--one colour,--one race: were they
not brother and sister? Yes,--the fair girl was the sister of the
cibolero. She was smiling from happiness at the thought of her
brother's triumph.

A strange-looking woman was seated in the bottom of the carreta--an old
woman, with long flowing hair, white as flax. She was silent, but her
sharp eyes were bent upon the cibolero with a triumphant expression.
Some regarded her with curiosity, but most with fear, akin to awe.
These knew something of her, and whispered strange tales to one another.

"_Esta una bruxa_!--_una hechicera_!" (She is a witch! a charmer!) said
they.

This they muttered in low tones lest they might be heard by Carlos or
the girl. _She was their mother_!

CHAPTER FOUR.

The sports continue. The bull thrown by the cibolero, now cowed, walks
moodily across the plain. He would not serve for a second run, so he is
lazoed and led off,--to be delivered to the victor as his prize.

A second is brought forth and started, with a fresh dozen