elegance of adornment; while groups of young girls, gaily dressed and
crowned with flowers, may be seen seated in the boats, singing to the
inspiriting accompaniment of the harp or mandolin.

The situation in which the hacienda of Las Palmas stood had been chosen
with a view to provide against these annual floods. It was upon the
north side of a plait apparently boundless towards the south, east, and
west. The house stood upon an eminence of no great elevation--a sort of
outlying spur of a higher ridge that backed it upon the north. It was
isolated, however, and at some distance from the ridge, whose direction
was eastward and westward. The hill upon which the hacienda stood was
one of those singular eminences known in Spanish-America by the name of
_mesa_ (table). Its flat top formed an oblong parallelogram, at one end
of which stood the dwelling-house, the other being occupied by the
storehouses and stables. These were upon an extensive scale, all
enclosed within a wall of strong mason-work. In the same enclosure were
rows of chambers for the lodgment of the _peons, vaqueros_, and other
retainers of the establishment.

The dwelling-house, standing upon the southern extremity of the _mesa_,
fronted towards the great plain. In its centre a massive double door
opened into the courtyard, or _patio_; and this entrance was reached by
a broad causeway, sloping upward with a gentle declivity from the plain,
and fenced along each edge by a parapet of strong mason-work. Thus
situated, the hacienda of Las Palmas--so named from the numerous topes
of palm-trees which mottled the plain in front--not only defied the
flood, but might have served as a fortress of no despicable strength.
The proprietor of this dwelling, as well as the extensive estate
surrounding it, was Don Mariano de Silva.

The bell of the hacienda had tolled the evening _oration_, and the
tinkling of the _angelus_ was sounding the summons to prayer. At that
moment might be witnessed an interesting spectacle upon the plain
adjoining the dwelling of Don Mariano de Silva. The Indian labourers,
who never work a moment beyond the prescribed time, at the first sound
of the bell had all suddenly stopped as if struck by paralysis. The
pickaxe raised aloft, the spade half buried in the earth, the goad
lifted to prick forward the ox, fell simultaneously from their hands;
while the oxen themselves, accustomed to imitate their drivers, came at
once to a stand, l