of the mustang, the fierce brute, maddened with the pain, only grew
more furious at each fling, and it was natural enough he should do his
utmost to rid himself of so cruel a rider.

How long he might have kept up the pitching frolic before his
involuntary tormentor could have freed himself, is a matter of
conjecture. It would have been an unfortunate "fix" to have been placed
in, alone upon the prairies.

Lige, however, found a compassionate bystander; who, having flung his
lazo around the neck of the mustang brought the spectacle to a
termination.

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE.

A LOVER ON THE TRAIL.

Taking advantage of the distraction caused by Quackenboss and his
troubles, I despatched the black upon his interesting errand, and with
no slight anxiety awaited the result.

From my position on the roof, I saw my messenger climb the hill, leading
the proud steed, and saw him enter the great portal of the hacienda.

Promptly--almost directly--the groom came out again _without_ the horse.
The present had been accepted. So far well.

I counted the moments, till heavy footsteps were heard upon the
escalera, and a shining black face rose over the roof.

There was no letter, no message beyond "_mil gracias_."

I felt a pang of chagrin. I had expected thanks more formal than this
mere phrase of compliment.

My man appeared better satisfied. A gold _onza_ gleamed in his purple
palm--a handsome perquisite.

"By whom given?" I inquired.

"Golly, mass cap'n, a gal guv it! De handsomest quaderoom gal dis nigga
ever see."

Beyond a doubt, Isolina herself was the donor!

I could have broken the rascal's thick skull, but that the queenly
douceur gave proof of the satisfaction with which my offering had been
received. Even on this trivial circumstance, I built my hopes of yet
receiving a fuller meed of thanks.

Absorbed in these hopes, I continued to pace the azotea alone.

It was a _dia de fiesta_ in the rancheria. Bells had already commenced
their clangour, and other notes of rejoicing fell upon the ear. The
poblanas appeared in their gayest attire--the Indians in bright naguas,
with red and purple threads twisted in their black hair; the denizens of
the ranchitos were pouring into the piazza, and processions were being
formed by the church; _jararas_ were twanging their guitar-like music;
and pyrotechnic machines were set up at the corners of the streets.
Tinsel-covered saints were carried about on the shou