acrificed in his
honor the best of the cattle, sheep, and horses they captured on their
raids. And the utter helplessness of the Spanish authorities gave a
certain color to these rumors, for the giants snapped their fingers
at their pursuers and went on killing, looting, burning, running off
stock, always appearing in unexpected places and disappearing like
mists at sunrise. Thus, two and a half years went by, and the offer of
five thousand dollars each for the heads of the devil-brigands had come
to nothing. Finally the Havana authorities were prayed and pestered
into a spell of activity. They organized a troop of one hundred and
fifty men and sixty dogs, put twenty officers at the head, and sent
along four chaplains to pray the evil charms away. The three savages
were cornered on a mountain, where two of them were killed after they
had inflicted many hurts on their pursuers. The heads of these two
were lopped, forwarded to the capital, and every one supposed that
the reign of terror was at an end.

But, as if the strength of the slain ones had passed into his arm,
the third man, Taito Perico, who had escaped during the fight, became
a greater scourge than ever. He was fury incarnate, and so sudden
were his visitations, so quick and deadly his work, so complete
his disappearances, that more than ever it was believed he was a
fiend. He resumed the work of slaughter in the Vuelta Arriba. He
had a horse now, carried a huge lance, and killed or wounded almost
every one he met,--but not all. There was in this black heart a core
of sympathy. Once he stole a little child and kept her with him for
some time, lavishing on her the affection of a barbarian big brother,
and so endearing him to her that when she was rescued from his jungle
haunt, while he was absent hunting, she wept for the kind Taito Perico,
even in her parents' arms. Then he stole a boy of eight years and
kept him for some months, allowing him at the end of that time to
return unharmed to his parents.

It was in one of these abductions that he worked his own undoing. Near
St. John of the Remedies lived the pretty Anita de Pareira, daughter
of a frugal and worthy couple and fiancee of a prosperous planter of
the district. The time for the wedding having been set, the father
and mother were in their little garden discussing ways and means,
and Anita was indoors trimming the gown in which she was to walk to
the altar. Her head was full of pretty fancies, and she