could have flung the
stump of a cigar upon the water; in fact, an object dropping vertically
from where I sat--for it was a projecting point--must have fallen plumb
into the stream.

It was not unlike the canon where we had tossed over the dogs; but it
was higher, and altogether more hell-like and horrible.

As I looked down, several small birds, whose species I did not stay to
distinguish, were screaming below, and an eagle on his broad, bold wing
came soaring over the abyss, and flapped up to my very face.

"Well, Captain," broke in the sharp voice of Jarauta, "what do you think
of it? A nice soft floor to dance upon, isn't it, Lopez?"

"Yes, Captain."

"All ready there? Stop! some music; we must have music: how can he
dance without music? _Hola_, Sanchez, where's your bugle?"

"Here, Captain!"

"Strike up, then! Play `Yankee Doodle'. Ha! ha! ha! `Yankee Doodle',
do you hear?"

"Yes, Captain," answered the man; and the next moment the well-known
strains of the American national air sounded upon my ear, producing a
strange, sad feeling I shall never forget.

"Now, Lopez!" cried the padre.

I was expecting to be swung out, when I heard him again shout, "Stay!"
at the same time stopping the music.

"By heavens! Lopez, I have a better plan," he cried: "why did I not
think of it before? It's not too late yet. Ha! ha! ha! _Carambo_!
They shall dance upon their heads! That's better--isn't it, Lopez?"

"Yes, Captain."

A cheer from the Jarochos announced their approval of this change in the
programme.

The padre made a sign to Lopez, who approached him, appearing to receive
some directions.

I did not at first comprehend the novelty that was about to be
introduced. I was not kept long in ignorance. One of the Jarochos,
seizing me by the collar, dragged me back from the ledge, and
transferred the noose from my neck to my ankles. Horror heaped upon
horror! I was to be _hung head downwards_!

"That will be much prettier--won't it, Lopez?"

"Yes, Captain."

"The gentleman will have time to make himself ready for heaven before he
dies--won't he, Lopez?"

"Yes Captain."

"Take out the gag--let him have his tongue free; he'll need that to pray
with--won't he, Lopez?"

"Yes, Captain."

One of the Jarochos jerked the bayonet roughly from my mouth, almost
dislocating my jaw. The power of speech was gone. I could not, if I
had wished it, have uttered an intelligible word.

"Give him his