The Padre, instead of replying to me, addressed some words to the Mexican in Spanish, which, whatever they were, the other only answered by a sharp slap of his palm on the stock of his rifle, and a very significant glance at his girdle, where a large bowie-knife glittered in all the freedom of its unsheathed splendor. As if not noticing this pantomime, I drew forth my "Harper's Ferry pistol" from the holster, and examined the priming,--a little bit of display I had the satisfaction to perceive was not thrown away on either the Friar or the layman. At a word from the former, however, the latter began once again his operations with the pole, the Friar resuming his place beside the cattle as if totally forgetful of my presence there. "May I ask the object of this proceeding, Father?" said I, "which, unless it be a 'devotional exercise,' is perfectly unaccountable to me." The Padre looked at me without speaking; but the sly drollery of his eye showed that he would have had no objection to bandy a jest with me, were the time and place more fitting. "I perceive," said he, at length, "that you have not journeyed in this land, or you would have known that at this season the streams abound with caymans and alligators, and that when the cattle have been once attacked by them, they have no courage to cross a river after. Their instinct, however, teaches them that beating the waters insures safety, and many a Mexican horse will not go knee-deep without this ceremony being performed." "I see that your cattle are unusually tired in the present case," said I, "for you have been nigh half an hour here, to my own knowledge." "Look at that black marc's fore-leg, and you ll see why," said he, pointing to a deep gash, which laid bare the white tendons for some inches in length, while a deep pool of blood flowed around the animal's hoof. A cry from the Mexican here broke in upon our colloquy, as, throwing down his pole, he seized his rifle, and dropped upon one knee in the attitude of defence. "What is it, Sancho?" cried the Friar. A few words of guttural followed, and the Padre said it was a large alligator that had just carried off a chiguire--a wild pig--under the water with him. This stream is a tributary of the Colloredo, along the banks of which these creatures' eggs are found in thousands! My blood ran cold at the horrid thought of being attacked by such animals, and I readily volunteered my assistance at the single-stick exercise of my companion. The Friar accepted my offer without much graciousness, but rather as that of an unwelcome guest who could not be easily got rid of. END OF VOL. I. CHAPTER XXI. A NIGHT IN THE FOREST OF TEXAS