of a lion, and made a rush with
lowered horns at the captain. Now, this was not the course laid down on
his chart for her to take; and he and the rest of us were struck all
aback, as he afterwards expressed it; but he met the emergency with
spirit. He broke his big, Spanish-oak stick on the nose of the brute,
and then the old mariner rolled in the dust.

"'Lay aboard of her, men!' shouted the old hero, in a voice like a
fog-horn, flourishing the fragments of his stick. 'Lay aboard of the old
cuss, I say! Cast your grapplings, Greaser! Seize her helm, some of
ye, and throw it hard over to port!'

[Illustration: "LAY ABOARD OF THE OLD CUSS!"]

"These orders were obeyed with alacrity. Not a man flinched. The loop of
the lasso settled over the polished horns to the roots, and Don Juan San
Diego set it tight with a twang. Napoleon Bonaparte and George
Washington rushed headlong upon her and hung to horns and ears; while
the man from Michigan fastened a grip on her lifted tail, as she tore
past him, which straightened him out like a lathe. As to myself, I could
only stand and gaze with solicitude upon the terrific contest, on the
issue of which depended not only the chances of my speculation, but even
the preservation of my self-esteem.

"The combat deepened and enlarged itself, as it were. A bull-dog, who
was wandering along the road in search of adventure, and two foxhounds
joined in the fight. The calf, the only one of the seven thousand five
hundred and twenty-three I was ever destined to behold, broke from its
pen and ran bellowing to its mother. The dogs bayed, the niggers yelled,
the Mexican swore in his delightful tongue; and the stuttering
Michigander remained silent, simply from his inability to pronounce the
profanity of his feelings.

"Suddenly the cow, which had been slowly working her way, with her
several attachments clinging to her, toward the road which ran along the
front of the field, turned and started pell-mell toward the river, which
flowed wide and deep, through the rushes, at the rear of it. She left
the path and took to the corn, and through the mass of growing stalks
she swept like a whirlwind. Onward she came. I anticipated the awful
catastrophe, and stood riveted to the spot. The old captain still sat in
the gravel, where the cow had bowled him, his hand grasping the
shattered cane, and his game leg extended. He too foresaw the
inevitable. Through the corn came the cow, like a black Saturn att