"Well, we met a herder on the road, a few miles back, with a beautiful drove. We dismounted, my boy and I, and I paraded my wooden leg to the marvel of the Indio; took a pack of cards from my saddle-bag and wrought divers tricks of magic—vanishing cards and the like—thou knowest; swallowed a horseshoe nail and took it out of mine ear; swallowed it again and took it out of his ear. He was spellbound with wonder—turned to stone, as if he had looked upon the ægis of Minerva,—and at this juncture my boy threw his jacket over the head of one of the calves, or lambs, or colts, or pups, or whatever Heaven may be pleased to call the offspring of these heathen quadrupeds, and vanished into the bush. He might have removed the herd entire! I patted the Indio on the back, embraced him as a brother—found he had no pockets!—and sent him on his way. When last we saw him his jaws were still agape!" As Pedro finished, his face grew red, his eyes closed in a convulsion which gradually extended over his broad body, and from the depths came a succession of wheezes that shook his frame. He made no other sound. Apoplexy seemed imminent, and Cristoval exclaimed:— "Gods, man! Be sparing of thy laughter, if that is the form it taketh. Thou ’rt too plethoric to do it safely, Pedro!" Pedro’s symptoms subsided, and he stumped away to send Pedrillo with the roast. A few minutes later an orderly entered, seeking De Soto. The latter rose, and, saying that he would return presently, followed the messenger, leaving Cristoval dawdling over his supper. There were few besides himself in the room—a spacious apartment with walls of unadorned stone, a flagged floor, and great doors opening upon the court. In the rear Pedro had his fire on the pavement, the smoke escaping through a hole in the roof, which, like all thus far seen, was of thatch. Rough tables and benches had been thrown together by the soldiers, always willing to do Pedro a service, and in the corner sat two troopers and three or four of the infantry. They had been conversing over their _chicha_, with heads together, and evidently occupied with a subject of interest. After De Soto went Cristoval noted casually that they were referring to him and glancing in his direction. Finally Moreno, one of the troopers, caught his eye, and beckoned him to join them. He sauntered over. "Sit, _compañero_, and have a cup with us," said the trooper, pouring for him. "We would have thine opinion." "My opinion!" said Cristoval, in slight surprise. "In what connection?"