“Thank you! but I believe I’ll wait and see how the bay comes out.  Come, let’s go and see the beauty,” said Hal; and the two started for the corral, to discuss the probable relative speed of the captives.

A couple of hours later, we saw Manuel returning; the mare trotting as quietly as though she had been accustomed to the saddle for years.  Riding up to where we stood, he dismounted; and, handing Ned the end of the lasso, said,—­

“There, youngster, throw this over her head, and lead her to the corral.  She’ll fancy you’re the one who first gained the mastery over her, and you won’t have no trouble in riding her when you want to.”

Ned led her to the corral, and then Hal’s mare was obliged to submit to a similar experience; and, after that, the boys, with Manuel to instruct, mounted their ponies and took their first lesson in mustang riding.

Hal Hyde and Ned Brown were two boys who had arrived from the East the night previous to the morning on which our story opens.

They were the sons of two old friends of mine, and had been sent to Texas that they might learn something of life upon a stock-ranche.

It is not my intention, however, to relate their experience during the few months they remained on the Ranchee; for they found, after the first novelty had worn off, the life was dull and exceedingly tiresome.  So monotonous did it become in fact, that it was with difficulty I persuaded them to remain, even until the fall, when I intended to make a journey overland to California.

As the time drew near for me to start, the boys became so anxious to accompany me, that I finally decided to travel with my own team, instead of taking the stage to San Diego, as I had originally intended.  I purchased four stout wagons, and thirty mules with harness and outfit for the road, complete; and engaged the services of an old Texan named Jerry Vance, as wagon-master for the trip.  We also bought a small but well-selected lot of goods, suitable for either the Mexican or Indian trade; laid in a large stock of stores for use on the road; and then awaited the departure of some “freighter” for the “Upper Country,” that we might take advantage of the better protection afforded by a large party in travelling through a country infested by hostile bands of Indians.

The boys became very impatient to be off; for we had gone into camp near the headwaters of the San Pedro, four miles above the city of San Antonio, and their only amusement consisted in practising with their rifles or revolvers or exercising their ponies.

At last (it was the first day of September) Jerry brought word to camp, that, on the following morning, Magoffin’s train, consisting of seventeen wagons, forty men, and two hundred mules, would start for Fort Fillmore, nearly a thousand miles away upon our direct route.

This was indeed agreeable news; and the boys could hardly contain themselves for joy at the thought of so soon being on the road.