The mounted members of the wedding party returned near the middle of the afternoon.  According to reports, Santa Maria had treated them most hospitably.  The marriage was simple, but the festivities following had lasted until dawn.  The returning guests sought their jacals to snatch a few hours’ sleep before the revelry would be resumed at Las Palomas.  An hour before sunset the four-mule ambulance bearing the bride and groom drove into Las Palomas with a flourish.  Before leaving the bridal couple at their own jacal, Tiburcio halted the ambulance in front of the ranch-house for the formal welcome.  In the absence of her brother, Miss Jean officiated in behalf of Las Palomas, tenderly caressing the bride.  The boys monopolized her with their congratulations and welcome, which delighted Enrique.  As for the bride, she seemed at home from the first, soon recognizing me as the padrino segundo at the time of her betrothal.

Quite a delegation of the bride’s friends from Santa Maria accompanied the party on their return, from whom were chosen part of the musicians for the evening—­violins and guitars in the hands of the native element of the two ranches making up a pastoral orchestra.  I volunteered my services; but so much of the music was new to me that I frequently excused myself for a dance with the senoritas.  In the absence of Uncle Lance, our segundo, June Deweese, claimed the first dance of the evening with the bride.  Miss Jean lent only the approval of her presence, not participating, and withdrawing at an early hour.  As all the American element present spoke Spanish slightly, that became the language of the evening.  But, further than to countenance with our presence the festivities, we were out of place, and, ere midnight, all had excused themselves with the exception of Aaron Scales and myself.  On the pleadings of Enrique, I remained an hour or two longer, dancing with his bride, or playing some favorite selection for the delighted groom.

Several days after the wedding Uncle Lance returned.  He had been successful in contracting a trail herd of thirty-five hundred cattle, and a remuda of one hundred and twenty-five saddle horses with which to handle them.  The contract called for two thousand two-year-old steers and fifteen hundred threes.  There was a difference of four dollars a head in favor of the older cattle, and it was the ranchero’s intention to fill the latter class entirely from the Las Palomas brand.  As to the younger cattle, neighboring ranches would be invited to deliver twos in filling the contract, and if any were lacking, the home ranch would supply the deficiency.  Having ample range, the difference in price was an inducement to hold the younger cattle.  To keep a steer another year cost nothing, while the ranchero returned convinced that the trail might soon furnish an outlet for all surplus cattle.  In the matter of the horses, too, rather than reduce our supply of saddle stock below the actual needs of the ranch, Uncle Lance concluded to buy fifty head in making up the remuda.  There were several hundred geldings on the ranch old enough for saddle purposes, but they would be as good as useless in handling cattle the first year after breaking.