But the tumult, far from diminishing, on the contrary rapidly increased; the Hiaquis Indians, in particular, mingled with the crowd, yelled and gesticulated in a truly frightful manner. The windows of the houses were filled with the heads of men and women, who, with looks directed towards the Cerro de la Campana, from the foot of which arose thick clouds of smoke in large volumes towards the heavens, seemed to be in expectation of some extraordinary event. All at once loud cries were heard; the crowd divided in two, like an overripe pomegranate, everyone throwing himself on one side or the other, with marks of the greatest terror; and a young man, or a boy rather, for he was scarcely sixteen, appeared, borne along like a whirlwind by the furious gallop of a half wild horse. "Stop him!" cried some. "Lasso him!" cried others. "_Válgame Dios!_" the women murmured, crossing themselves. "It is the demon himself." But everyone, instead of stopping him, got out of his way as quickly as he could; the bold boy continued his rapid course, with a jeering smile upon his lips, his face inflamed, his eye sparkling, and distributing, right and left, smart blows with his _chicote_ on all who ventured too near him, or whose unfortunate destiny prevented them from getting out of his way as fast as they would have wished. "Eh! eh! _Caspita!_" (said, as the boy jostled him in passing, a _vaquero_ with a stupid countenance and athletic limbs,) "Devil take the madman, he nearly knocked me down! Eh! but," he added, after having cast a glance at the young man, "if I mistake not, that is Rafaël, my neighbour's son! Wait a moment, _picaro!_" While speaking this aside between his teeth, the vaquero unrolled the lasso which he wore fastened to his belt, and set off running in the direction of the horseman. The crowd, who understood his intention, applauded with enthusiasm. "Bravo, bravo!" they cried. "Don't miss him, Cornejo!" some vaqueros encouragingly shouted, clapping their hands. Cornejo, since we know the name of this interesting personage, gained insensibly upon the boy, before whom obstacles multiplied more and more. Warned of the perils which threatened him, by the cries of the spectators, the horseman turned his head. Then he saw the vaquero. A livid paleness covered his countenance; he felt that he was lost. "Let me escape, Cornejo," he cried, choking with tears. "No, no!" the crowd howled; "lasso him! lasso him!" The populace took great interest in this manhunt; they feared to find themselves cheated of a spectacle which gave them much satisfaction. "Surrender," the giant replied; "or else, I warn you, I will lasso you like a ciboto." "I will not surrender," the boy said resolutely. The two speakers still held on their way, the one on foot, the other on horseback. The crowd followed, howling with pleasure. The masses are thus everywhere--barbarous and without pity.