Up on the side of the mountain, where a torrent springs, a cabin hides under the trees, built on their gnarled trunks. Over its thatched roof creep the branches of the gourd, heavy with fruit and flowers. Antlers and wild boars' heads, some of them bearing their long tusks, ornament the rustic hearth. It is the home of a Tagalo family living from the chase and the cup of the woods. Under the shade of a tree, the grandfather is making brooms from the veins of palm leaves, while a girl fills a basket with eggs, lemons, and vegetables. Two children, a boy and a girl, are playing beside another boy, pale and serious, with great, deep eyes. We know him. It is Sisa's son, Basilio. "When your foot is well," said the little boy, "you will go with us to the top of the mountain and drink deer's blood and lemon juice; then you'll grow fat; then I'll show you how to jump from one rock to another, over the torrent." Basilio smiled sadly, examined the wound in his foot, and looked at the sun, which was shining splendidly. "Sell these brooms, Lucia," said the grandfather to the young girl, "and buy something for your brothers. To-day is Christmas." "Fire-crackers, I want fire-crackers!" cried the little boy. "And what do you want?" the grandfather asked Basilio. The boy got up and went to the old man. "Senor," he said, "have I been ill more than a month?" "Since we found you, faint and covered with wounds, two moons have passed. We thought you were going to die----" "May God reward you; we are very poor," said Basilio; "but as to-day is Christmas, I want to go to the pueblo to see my mother and my little brother. They must have been looking everywhere for me." "But, son, you aren't well yet, and it is far to your pueblo. You would not get there till midnight. My sons will want to see you when they come from the forest." "You have many children, but my mother has only us two; perhaps she thinks me dead already. I want to give her a present to-night--a son!" The grandfather felt his eyes grow dim. "You are as sensible as an old man! Go, find your mother, give her her present! Go, my son. God and the Lord Jesus go with you!" "What, you're not going to stay and see my fire-crackers?" said the little boy. "I want you to play hide and seek!" pouted the little girl; "nothing else is so much fun." Basilio smiled and his eyes filled with tears. "I shall come back soon," he said, "and bring my little brother; then you can play with him. But I must go away now with Lucia." "Don't forget us!" said the old man, "and come back when you are well." The children all accompanied him to the bridge of bamboo over the rushing torrent. Lucia, who was going to the first pueblo with her basket, made him lean on her arm; the other children watched them both out of sight.