bull. It was then that the men of the hatos-the true Llaneros-had room to exhibit their skill in horsemanship and the manipulation of wild cattle.

The horse galloping furiously, the rider stooping low to the side and neck of it so as to be unseen by the bull, turned quickly and caught its tail, the horse leaning almost to fall on one side, the bull, in a somewhat similar manner, leaning the other way, while the horseman seemed to be the connecting link, his body and one arm extending between, then by a sudden experienced twist of its tail he threw the bull.

When the animal was down, one of the men afoot carelessly approached, and taking it by the tail compelled the bull to rise. Then there was sport to see the bull kicking up and attempting to butt, turning round and round to get at the man, who, still holding on, then changed the play by turning his bovine adversary whichever way he pleased. After that he let go his hold of the tail, and facing the bull dodged cleverly at every thrust of the horns, and at every plunge fluttering

his scarf, and while making it seem to go one way himself taking another direction.

Thus he continued until it was plainly to be seen that the animal acknowledged the superior skill of the man.

At last came another torero, who, after playing with the bull for a time, caught hold of his tail, and jumping on his back plunged his long knife in behind the horns, and sprang to his feet as the beast dropped lifeless to the earth.

CHAPTER XXXI.

CLOSING SCENES.

SEVERAL months had passed since the Saturday morning on which my two fellow-travellers on the Llanos left me in the posada at Soledad, and crossed over the Orinoco to the city of Bolivar or Angostura, as it is popularly called, when I was surprised by a visit from Mr M'Donald. He had found employment in one of the river steamers trading up the Apure, and was contented and happy in his work.

"The Llanos that we passed over in company,' he said, "having deep ravines and numerous streams, drain naturally of themselves; but in the wet season of the Apure the whole land is submerged, and live stock of all kinds fatten the voracious monsters of the water-the Kaiman and the culebra de agua.

"He had had the mortification," he said, "of

seeing some persons with whom he associated on board as friends, fall into the water and instantly dragged down by one of those innumerable monsters that infest those waters. No man was safe either descending from the steamer into the boat, or travelling in a small craft, for any accident that caused a fall into the river or an upset was mostly attended with fatal results. world," continued Mr M'Donald,

This

was not an

abiding home, and he had learned to leave the time and manner of his departure from life in the hands of Him who gave life, and is the wise and benevolent disposer of events."

But," continued he, "I have sought you out at the request of M. Wilhelm, who wishes to see you before he dies. He, poor man, fell in with a company of Germans of kindred tastes and habits, and so abandoned himself, as he confesses, to every excess, that, his constitution previously impaired, broke down. His last desire is to see you."

"What is his mind with regard to his future state?"

"He is quite penitent. He acknowledges that his physical decay is the effect of a moral suicide. He says that he knows he has disappointed the good and wise object for which he was sent into the world; and like a mad mariner who deranged his chronometer and steered wildly, shattering his vessel on quicksands; so he by studying to make out right to be wrong, and wrong right, and by acting upon false principles has wrecked himself. He is astonished at the mercy vouchsafed to him of a hope of salvation."

Mr McDonald continued-" A young priest visited him regularly; they have had some arguments in which the youth could not always satisfy him, and if he seemed satisfied one day, he doubted on the next. But he has accepted the Faith as defined by the priest. I have heard him struggling with his doubts and saying, 'Oh, if I could have faith in Faith!' But Faith conquered, and he is truly penitent. His only inducement to desire a continuance of life would be that he might amend his course. He feels that not one worthy action will precede him to the world of spirits."