though she be
but young. What a joyous creature she is, wild as a mustang filly fresh
caught. I wish, Don Francisco, you could have stayed to make her
acquaintance. I am sure you would be delighted with her."

If the portrait on the wall was anything of a faithful likeness,
Hamersley could not have been otherwise. This was his reflection,
though, for certain reasons, he did not in speech declare it.

"It is to be hoped we shall meet again, Colonel Miranda," was his
ingenious rejoinder. "If I did not have this hope, I should now be
parting from you with greater regret. Indeed, I have more than a
presentiment we shall meet again; since I've made up my mind on a
certain thing."

"On what, Don Francisco?"

"On returning to New Mexico."

"To settle in the country?"

"Not exactly that; only for a time--long enough to enable me to dispose
of a cargo of merchandise in exchange for a bag of your big Mexican
dollars."

"Ah! you intend to become one of the prairie merchants, then?"

"I do. That intention has been the cause of my visiting your country.
I am old enough to think of some calling, and have always had a fancy
for the adventurous life of the prairie trader. As I have sufficient
means to stock a small caravan for myself, I think now of trying it. My
present trip has been merely one of experiment and exploration. I am
satisfied with the result, and, if no accident arise, you may see me
back on the Del Norte before either of us be twelve months older."

"Then, indeed, is there a hope of our meeting again. I am rejoiced at
it. But, Senor Don Francisco," continued his host, changing to a
serious tone, "a word lest I might forget it--a word of counsel, or
warning, I may call it. I have observed that you are too unsuspicious,
too regardless of danger. It does not all lie upon the prairies, or
among red-skinned savages. There is as much of it here, amid the abodes
of our so-called civilisation. When you are travelling through this
country bear your late antagonist in mind, and should you at any time
meet, beware of him. I have given you some hints about the character of
Gil Uraga. I have not told you all. He is worse than you can even
imagine. I know him well. Do you see that little house, out yonder on
the other side of the river?"

Hamersley nodded assent.

"In that hovel he was born. His father was what we call a _pelado_--a
poor devil, with scarce a coat to his back. Himself the same, bu