852 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS. 
or security, on an expedition such as this, depended very 
much upon the character and mettle of our horses. It was 
in vain to regret the noble fellow I had lost, for he would be 
across the Rio Grande in the shortest possible time. I could 
only mutter vengeance against Mexican horse thieves in 
general, and hope he might be at least tolerably replaced. 
It will be seen in the event, that we did not attach too much 
importance to this circumstance. 
When the detachment arrived, I was agreeably surprised 
to find a powerful, wild-eyed, fine-looking animal assigned to 
me; but my pleasure was not a little dashed at discover'ng, as 
soon as I undertook to handle him, that he had never had a 
saddle on his back! Here was a poser with a vengeance! 
What was I to do with an untamed Mustang, as strong as a 
buffalo, and vicious as a wild cat? After enjoying a laugh 
at my chap-fallen, chagrined look, on realizing this astounding 
fact, my tormentors suggested to me the only alleviation, 
which was to pay one of our Mexican guides a dollar, mount 
his horse, and let him take mine in hand for a day or two, in 
which time he would make him “cadello de buena rienda” 
for me. 
In a little while the copper-skinned knave was careering 
like the wind over the plains on my frantic steed, while the 
mischievous Rangers comforted me with the assurance, that 
we would probably catch up with him “in a day or two!” 
However, he came into camp late at night, with the horse 
sweltering in foam, and nearly exhausted by a run of some 
ten miles and back, and assured me that he was “muey buena” 
—very good !—that is, he had been able to stand this tremen- 
' dous race, without falling dead in his tracks, which constituted 
the Mexican standard of excellence in these cases. I was 
eager to mount him myself next morning, for I did not fancy 
the idea of having his wind broken, by this Mexican and 
summary process of taming. 
I was approaching him incautiously, without paying any 
