A Buffalo Hunt in Northern Mexico. 



107 



IN THE REAR COURT. 



To be sure, there was no barbican defending the entrance, nor 

 portcullis a-swing on creaking chains, nor overshadowed grass-grown 

 ditch ; yet, as we rolled in, I thought of Branksome tower ; of the 

 stag-hounds, weary of the chase, and asleep upon a rushy floor ; of 

 the kinsmen of the bold Buccleuch — the nine and twenty knights of 

 fame, of whom the matchless master sang : 



" They carved at the meal 

 With gloves of steel, 

 And they drank the red wine through the helmet barr'd." 



A very martial vision, by the troth of a paladin ! But instead, some 

 nomadic children of the desert, going, they knew not where nor for 

 what, were in full possession of the patio, resting happily from their 

 travel of the day. 



We alighted from the carnage in a square court-yard, — patio, in 

 the Spanish, — paved and quite spacious. On the four sides door- 

 ways without doors yawned darkly at us. The purposes the cham- 

 bers served in the golden time I knew not ; when we found them 

 they were stables ; out of some, the long-horned cattle of the nomads 

 looked, bellowing for food ; into others, our mules were taken. 



