unabashed manner, but withdrew not his gaze. We ignored him,
but he took not the hint. Stay there he did until we were remounted, and
then for miles and miles he rode along with us.

We were rather amused than otherwise at his course, though perhaps we
experienced a scarcely recognized feeling of relief when we came to a
place where our roads lay in different directions. He shook hands with
us in the same friendly, impressive, almost warm manner, and then
galloped merrily off as if he had fulfilled an arduous duty and now felt
as if he had a right to enjoy himself.

Shortly afterward we came to a height overlooking the _Yegnare Valley_,
one of the most beautiful and far-reaching scenes it has ever been my
good fortune to behold.

Great pointed peaks kiss the sky on every side, and seem to shut out
all the noise and strife of the world beyond, and like sentinels, grim
and gaunt, guard intact the peace and prosperity of the vast plains
within that natural wall.

Two farms occupy nearly all of the valley, and so extensive are they,
that the farm-houses are four miles apart. The owner of both proved to
be none other than the father of my companion, and though there was
still one more day's journey before us, we already felt quite at home.

We made the descent and entered upon the broad domain of the _Hacienda
de San Francisco_, the boundary of which, to my amazement, I found
indicated by a very familiar American barb-wire fence.

We rode through fields where the grass waved high above our heads, over
pasture plains where hundreds of cattle, mules, and horses roamed at
will, and then, when the sun was sinking low, we came to the farmhouse,
and here we dismounted to make our last night's stop.

The building is a remarkable one, having been a monastery years and
years ago, when the Jesuit missionaries were devoting their energies and
lives to the conversion of the untamed Indians.

It is one hundred and fifty feet long, probably one third as deep, and
has walls a yard thick. All this is divided into five rooms--three large
ones running the whole depth of the house and communicating with each
other, and two smaller ones, one behind the other, and only had access
to from the outside.

The floors are of stone, and it pleased me to fancy that many of the
worn places had been formed by constant contact with the bended knees of
the holy and indefatigable priests. The projecting roof of tiles forms a
sort of porch, we woul