"Poor little Rosy!" he continued; "she _shall_ marry Don Juan this time! I won't withhold my consent any longer? It would be better, too. He's a bold fellow, and can protect her while I'm off on the plains again: though one more journey, and I have done with the plains. One more journey, and I shall change my title from Carlos the cibolero to Senor Don Carlos R--, Ha! ha! ha!" Again he laughed at the prospect of becoming a "rico," and being addressed as "Don Carlos." "Very odd," thought he, "I don't meet anyone. I don't see a soul upon the road up or down. Yet it's not late--the sun's above the bluff still. Where can the people be? And yet the road's covered thick with fresh horse-tracks! Ha! the troops have been here! they have just passed up! But that's no reason why the people are not abroad; and I don't see even a straggler! Now I could have believed there was an alarm of Indians had I not seen these tracks; but I know very well that, were the Apaches on their war-trail, my Comandante and his Whiskerandos would never have ventured so far from the Presidio--that I know. "Well, there's something extraordinary! I can't make it out. Perhaps they're all up to the town at some fiesta. Anton, my boy, you know all the feast-days! Is this one?" "No, master." "And where are all the folks?" "Can't guess, master! Strange we don't see some!" "So I was thinking. You don't suppose there have been wild Indians in the neighbourhood?" "No, master--_mira_! They're the tracks of the `lanzeros'--only an hour ago. No Indians where they are!" As Antonio said this, both his accent and look had an expression which guided his master to the true meaning of his words, which might otherwise have been ambiguous. He did not mean that the fact of the lancers having been on the ground would prevent the Indians from occupying it, but exactly the reverse. It was, not "lancers no Indians," but "Indians no lancers," that Antonio meant. Carlos understood him; and, as this had been his own interpretation of the tracks, he burst out into a fit of laughter. Still no travellers appeared, and Carlos did not like it. As yet he had not thought of any misfortune to those he loved; but the unpeopled road had an air of loneliness about it, and did not seem to welcome him. As he passed on a feeling of sadness came stealing over him, which after it had fairly taken possession he could not get rid of. He had not yet passed a settlement. There were none before reaching his own rancho, which, as already stated, was the lowest in the valley. Still the inhabitants fed their flocks far below that; and it was usual, at such an hour, to see them driving their cattle home. He neither saw cattle nor vaqueros. The meadows on both sides, where cattle used to graze, were empty! What could it mean?