“Yes. Sometimes a bull is timid, finding himself in so strange a place, and he stands trembling, or tries to retreat. Then everybody despises him for his cowardice and wants him punished and made ridiculous; so they hough him from behind, and it is the funniest thing in the world to see him hobbling around on his severed legs; the whole vast house goes into hurricanes of laughter over it; I have laughed till the tears ran down my cheeks to see it. When he has furnished all the sport he can, he is not any longer useful, and is killed.” “Well, it is perfectly grand, Antonio, perfectly beautiful. Burning a nigger don’t begin.” XII MONGREL AND THE OTHER HORSE “SAGE-BRUSH, you have been listening?” “Yes.” “Isn’t it strange?” “Well, no, Mongrel, I don’t know that it is.” “Why don’t you?” “I’ve seen a good many human beings in my time. They are created as they are; they cannot help it. They are only brutal because that is their make; brutes would be brutal if it was _their_ make.” “To me, Sage-Brush, man is most strange and unaccountable. Why should he treat dumb animals that way when they are not doing any harm?” “Man is not always like that, Mongrel; he is kind enough when he is not excited by religion.” “Is the bull-fight a religious service?” “I think so. I have heard so. It is held on Sunday.” (_A reflective pause_, _lasting some moments_.) Then: “When we die, Sage-Brush, do we go to heaven and dwell with man?” “My father thought not. He believed we do not have to go there unless we deserve it.” Part II IN SPAIN XIII GENERAL ALISON TO HIS MOTHER IT was a prodigious trip, but delightful, of course, through the Rockies and the Black Hills and the mighty sweep of the Great Plains to civilization and the Missouri border—where the railroading began and the delightfulness ended. But no one is the worse for the journey; certainly not Cathy, nor Dorcas, nor Soldier Boy; and as for me, I am not complaining. Spain is all that Cathy had pictured it—and more, she says. She is in a fury of delight, the maddest little animal that ever was, and all for joy. She thinks she remembers Spain, but that is not very likely, I suppose. The two—Mercedes and Cathy—devour each other. It is a rapture of love, and beautiful to see. It is Spanish; that describes it. Will this be a short visit?