It was a festive eve at the Don’s; youth and beauty were there; and as the sable hues of night sunk on silent tree and tower, the harp and guitar woke into melodious action; the hour was late when the waltz and song resigned their votaries to the calmer claims of slumber. My apartment betrayed the rural diversions of some fairy, one whose floral trophies threw their fragrance from every variety of vase. The air was loaded with perfume, and could hardly be relieved by the visits of the night-wind through the lifted window. My dreams ran on tulips and roses. Morn blazed again in the east; the soaring lark sung from its cloud; the guests were up, glad voices were heard in the hall; light forms glanced through the corridors, and a _buenos dios_ rolled in sweet accents from lips circled with smiles. Coffee and tortillas went round, mingled with salutations and those first fresh thoughts which spring from the heart like early birds from the tree, which the sunlight has touched, while the dew yet sparkles on its leaves. The horses of the Don were now driven to the door—a sprightly band—vieing in their hues with the flowers that sprinkled the meadows where they gambolled, and the guests were invited to make their selection. My choice fell, of course, on Leopaldo, who had brought me from Monterey; but his fair owner would want him; no, he was delivered to me, as the señorita took another quite as full of fire. The ladies were now tost into their saddles, and the gentlemen, belted and spurred, vaulted into theirs. We all struck at once into a hand gallop, and swept over the broad plain which stretches from the acropolis of the Don, to the broken line of a mountain range. Here we spurred into a broad shadowy ravine, overhung with toppling crags, and breaking through the bold ranges of rock, which threw their steep faces in wild fantastic forms on the eye. “A coyote!” shouted those in the van, and started in chase; but this prairie-wolf had his den near at hand, and soon vanished from sight. Another, and a third, but the chasm yielded its instant refuge. A fourth was started, who gave us a longer pursuit; but he soon doubled from sight around a bold bluff into a jungle. Here the horse of señorita S—— dashed ahead of the whole caballada, with his dilated eye fastened on a noble buck, and swept up the sloping side of the ravine to gain the ridge, and cut off his escape in that direction, while the whole troop spurred hot and fast upon his retreat below. We were now in for a chase, brief though it might be. The buck seemed confused; and no wonder, with such a shouting bevy at his heels, and with the señorita streaming along the ridge, and dashing over chasm and cliff like the storm-swept cloud where “leaps the live thunder.” But the proud buck was not to be captured in this way; and as soon as the other side of the ravine began to slope from its steep line, up its bank he sprung, and bounded along its ridge as if in exulting