at a slight
angle to the thighs of pitahaya, and in such a way that the rim of the
ample cloak came down over their tops. The huge spurs were allowed to
remain on the boots, and could be seen from a distance gleaming in the
blaze of the fire.

A few more touches and the counterfeit was complete.

He that had made it now stepped back to the edge of the glade, and,
passing around, examined it from different points. He appeared
satisfied. Indeed, no one would have taken the figure for anything but
that of a sleeping traveller who had lain down without taking off his
spurs.

Carlos now returned to the fire, and uttering a low signal brought the
horse up to his hand. He led the animal some paces out, and tightened
the bridle-rein by knotting it over the horn of the saddle. This the
well-trained steed knew to be a command for him to give over browsing,
and stand still in that same place until released by the hand of his
master, or by a well-known signal he had been taught to obey. The lazo
fastened to the bit-ring was next uncoiled. One end of the rope was
carried to the prostrate figure, and placed under the edge of the manga,
as though the sleeper held it in his hand!

Once more the cibolero passed round the circumference of the glade, and
surveyed the grouping in the centre. Again he appeared satisfied; and,
re-entering the thicket, he brought out a fresh armful of dry wood and
flung it on the fire.

He now raised his eyes, and appeared to scrutinise the trees that grew
around the glade. His gaze rested upon a large live-oak standing at the
inner entrance of the avenue, and whose long horizontal limbs stretched
over the open ground. The top branches of this tree were covered
thickly with its evergreen frondage, and laced with vines and
_tillandsia_ formed a shady canopy. Besides being the tallest tree, it
was the most ample and umbrageous--in fact, the patriarch of the grove.

"'Twill do," muttered Carlos, as he viewed it. "Thirty paces--about
that--just the range. They'll not enter by the avenue. No--no danger
of that; and if they did--but no--they'll come along the bank by the
willows--yes, sure to do so:--now for Cibolo."

He glanced for a moment at the dog, that was still lying where he had
been placed.

"Poor fellow! he has had it in earnest. He'll carry the marks of their
cowardly knives for the rest of his days. Well--he may live long enough
to know that he has been avenged--yes! that may