nts, scattering the commissariat of the major over the prairie.
Fortunately, the hospitality of Don Cosme had already provided a
substitute for this loss.

After a run of about half a mile Hercules began to gain rapidly upon the
mustangs, whereas Doc was losing distance in an inverse ratio. The
Mexicans had got within a couple of hundred yards of the rancho, the
major not over a hundred in their rear, when I observed the latter
suddenly pull up, and, jerking the long body of Hercules round, commence
riding briskly back, all the while looking over his shoulder towards the
in closure.

The vaqueros did not halt at the corral, as we expected, but kept across
the prairie, and disappeared among the trees on the opposite side.

"What the deuce has got into Blossom?" inquired Clayley; "he was clearly
gaining upon them. The old bloat must have burst a blood-vessel."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

A BRUSH WITH THE GUERILLEROS.

"Why, what was the matter, Major?" inquired I, as the major rode up
blowing like a porpoise.

"Matter!" replied he, with one of his direst imprecations; "matter,
indeed! You wouldn't have me ride plump into their works, would you?"

"Works!" echoed I, in some surprise; "what do you mean by that, Major?"

"I mean works--that's all. There's a stockade ten feet high, as full as
it can stick of them."

"Full of what?"

"Full of the enemy--full of rancheros. I saw their ugly copper faces--a
dozen of them at least--looking at me over the pickets; and, sure as
heaven, if I had gone ten paces farther they would have riddled me like
a target."

"But, Major, they were only peaceable rancheros--cow-herds--nothing
more."

"Cow-herds! I tell you, Captain, that those two that galloped off had a
sword apiece strapped to their saddles. I saw them when I got near:
they were decoys to bring us up to that stockade--I'll bet my life upon
it!"

"Well, Major," rejoined I, "they're far enough from the stockade now;
and the best we can do in their absence will be to examine it, and see
what chances it may offer to corral these mules, for, unless they can be
driven into it, we shall have to return to camp empty-handed."

Saying this, I moved forward with the men, the major keeping in the
rear.

We soon reached the formidable stockade, which proved to be nothing more
than a regular corral, such as are found on the great _haciendas de
ganados_ (cattle farms) of Spanish America. In one corner was a house,
cons