The cheers and yells which arose from the peon audience were deafening, and then an ominous calm. The bull advanced towards me and—I must confess it—loomed large as a locomotive! But perhaps fortune favours the brave, and whether from often having seen it done or whether from good luck alone, I placed the decorated banderillas successfully in the animal's neck, and instantly leaped aside with instinctive agility, having felt the breath from his nostrils upon my face, whilst the animal, smarting with the pain from the barbed points, bounded some paces away, and the audience cheered itself hoarse and gave repealed vivas for the inglés. Now was the moment to retire in "peace with honour," but desirous of showing how little I cared for the animal—a sentiment I did not really feel—I turned my back to the bull, and ostentatiously unrolled a Havana cigar from its lead-foil covering, and calmly cutting off the end, I proceeded to light it. The bull saw it. With a bound he was upon me, and as I turned to leap aside his horns passed clean under my waistcoat and shirt, and ripped them open to the flesh. Hurled aside by the impact, I lost my balance and staggered wildly, but faced the brute again, whilst deafening yells—whether of delight at possible disaster or encouragement to go on, I could not tell—arose from the spectators who thronged the barriers. But up came the capeadores, and diverting the animal's attention as was their office, I retired, not without dignity, and received the congratulations of my friends, and a Spanish sash from the presiding "queen" of the entertainment. But I took no credit for it myself; rather I felt that I had done wrong and barely escaped punishment, in countenancing and taking part in what every Englishman must consider an uncivilising form of sport.

Horsemanship and its accompanying callings play a prominent part in rural life in Mexico. The hacendado, or estate owner, or ranchero, mounts his horse directly after early morning coffee, in order to make the round of his plantations. The vaquero, or cowboy of Mexico, is possibly the most expert horseman in the world, and the method of training the horse to the lightest touch of the rein, and the comfortable yet swift paso, or rapid march to which the animal is trained, are such as the foreign observer notes with interest. Indeed, is he wise he adopts this paso himself, instead of the English trot.

A distinctive riding dress is used by the Mexican horseman—the charro costume, which is a remarkable and even gorgeous habiliment, both as regards man and horse. The short coat and tightly-fitting trousers are made of soft deerskin, tanned to a rich burnt-sienna hue. Down the edges of the coat and upon its lappels a border of luxuriant gold or silver lace is worked, and round the buttonhole similar profuse ornament is planted, and upon the cuffs. A stripe of intricately patterned gold lace runs down the seams of the trousers, which latter, tight-fitting at the top, are adjusted very closely at the calf of the leg. For riding in rough country a further leg-covering is worn; a kind of loose trousers put over the others and buckled round the waist, called chaparreras, made and ornamented with similar material. The crowning glory of the whole is the huge Mexican hat. This is made of thick beaver-looking felt, with a soft silky surface. Its form is well known with a very high tapering dome-like crown and very broad brim. This great headgear is also profusely ornamented with gold or silver lace, worn principally by the rancheros, and the owner's initials are generally worked upon the front of the crown in large gold letters. The hat is of considerable weight. To return to the lower members again, the feet are armed with a pair of spurs of appalling size and weight, the "wheel" portion being several inches in diameter, and the whole weighing several pounds each. These are often of steel inlaid with gold or silver, and are buckled upon the foot with an elaborate strap and embossed medallion. These spurs do not lacerate the horse, as their points are blunt. The effect of the whole dress is almost dazzling, but the big hat set over the tight trousers and short coat gives a somewhat top-heavy appearance.

The trappings of the horse are not unworthy of the gorgeous habiliments of the jinete, or horseman. The Mexican montura, or saddle, is of beautifully tanned leather of a high colour, and profusely-embroidered with silver patterns and ornamentations, and the whole is exceedingly heavy. It is, however, remarkably comfortable, and "the horse carries the weight," the Mexican will inform you if you criticise its bulk in comparison with an English saddle. For work in the country no experienced traveller would ever think of using the English form of saddle. In Mexico or South American countries it is altogether unsuitable, both for horse and rider, giving a maximum of fatigue and minimum of comfort. Also the heavy Mexican bit and single rein are better for travel in these regions, as ever used by the natives. This bit is not necessarily cruel, and in fact the Mexican horses are so remarkably trained as to their mouths, that the faintest touch of a single finger on the bridle is sufficient for instant obedience. As to the huge spurs they are not necessarily cruel, indeed they are less so than the sharp English kind, which draw blood easily where the native instrument does not abrade the skin.

The remarkable and dexterous management of the lasso, or riata, by the rural Mexican is such as fills the beholder with admiration and surprise that so skilful a combination of hemp and horseflesh, managed by a man's hand, could exist. Behold the vaquero, with his riata whirling aloft as at full gallop he pursues a fleeing bull! Closing upon it a few yards away the lasso swings its unerring coils through the air, the noose descends upon horns or hoofs at the will of the vaquero, and it is quite common to lasso the two hind legs of the animal whilst he is in full gallop. And now the horse plays his intelligent part. The noose has fallen with the accuracy desired; the vaquero winds his end rapidly around the horn of the saddle; the horse gives a half-turn in the quickness of thought, in obedience to his own knowledge and a touch of the bridle, so presenting his flank and a long base to the direction of the strain; the rope tightens tense and smoking with the pull; horse and rider stand unmoved, but the great bulk of the arrested bovine falls prone to the ground. It is an art, a wonderful dexterity we have witnessed, acquired from birth. I ambitiously tried it once, but failed to turn the horse quickly enough, and was pulled over to the ground. Of sports on horseback the Mexicans indulge in several. Mark our friend the ranchero, in his holiday dress, upon a dia de fiesta. He is going to show us the "raya." His man marks a spot on the flat ground; the horseman retires with his steed to a short distance, put spurs to the animal, comes thundering along towards us at full gallop, and as he reaches the mark on the soil he suddenly draws rein, and the obedient horse putting his legs rigidly together, slides forward on his hoofs with his own momentum, scoring out a mark about his own length on the ground, and stops dead without moving a muscle. This mark is the "raya." Another diversion is that where gaily-be-ribboned chickens—alive—are provided by the novias, or sweethearts of the young men: and these, mounted on their steeds, ride fast and furious to capture the bird from the one who holds it. The unfortunate chicken is generally torn to pieces, and sometimes in jealous anger and rivalry other blood is shed than that of the innocent bird!

The riata at times serves the Mexican as a lethal weapon. Perhaps a quarrel between two hot-blooded vaqueros has taken place. One draws his revolver—if his circumstances permit him the possession of so expensive a weapon, and they are generally carried—whilst the other lays hand to his riata. It might be supposed that the man with the revolver would triumph, but woebetide him if he fails to bring down his enemy—both are darting about on their agile horses—before the chambers are exhausted, for the other, whirling the rope aloft, lassoes him, and putting spurs to his own beast, drags the unfortunate man from his horse and gallops away across the plain, dragging him mercilessly to death among the rocks and thorns. For the Mexican when aroused to anger—and his fiercest passions are generally the outcome of love affairs or of drink—is mercilessly cruel and revengeful, and thinks little of shedding the blood of a fellow-creature in the heat of a personal encounter. Among the lower class the knife, or puñal, is a ready weapon, and a stab, whether in the dark or in the daylight, is a common way of terminating a personal question. This is the shadow of the Aztec war-god thus thrown across the ages! Again it may be said of the Mexicans—love blood, wine, dust!

Among the upper class Mexicans such matters are, of course, unknown, but the challenge and the duel is still a custom of the country, as it is throughout Spanish-America generally. It fell to my lot in one Spanish-American country to receive a challenge. The gentleman who thought himself aggrieved formally sent two friends to wait upon me, requesting that I would name my seconds and select weapons. There was something operatic about the matter to my mind, although they appeared to be in earnest, and I could not help reminding my two visitors of the proposal of a famous American humourist regarding a choice of weapons in such a case—"brick-bats at half-a-mile, or gatling-guns," or something of that nature. However, they would not be turned from their purpose even when I seriously asked if they really desired the shedding of gore. I gravely replied that Englishmen did not enter into such affairs and that I considered it uncivilised; and absolutely refused to have anything to do with them. This they pretended to attribute to cowardice, and said that in such a case I should be exposed to affront or attack in the street, to which I made reply that I expected to be able to take care of myself and to punish any one who should dare to attempt such a course. I easily gathered that an elaborate duel was in their minds, a show or scene, such the Latin races love and the Anglo-Saxon abhors, and I accused them of this. At length, in order to get rid of them I made the following proposal: "If your friend is really desirous that his blood or mine shall be shed, let him meet me alone—I want no seconds, nor friends nor any other fanfare. I go out every morning on horseback along a certain mountain road. To-morrow I will go alone—let your friend meet me, also alone, and there, without more witnesses than Heaven, we can settle all accounts." This grandiloquent-sounding exhortation had the advantage of coming straight from the heart; it was what I had resolved to do, and moreover my side was the just one. The two seconds departed without much comment, and on the following morning I mounted my horse and went out alone, along the described road. But in the front holster of the saddle there was a long-barrelled Colts revolver, and the Winchester carbine I had occasionally brought down a deer with was strapped in its usual place alongside the saddle. Yet upon all that expanse of road not a soul did I meet, neither that day nor on the several following ones during which I remained in the vicinity.

But such matters are comparatively rare, and the Spanish-American is generally a warm and courteous friend, with a considerable regard for Englishmen, and ever ready to show his hospitality, and those general qualities which are ever esteemed of the caballero.

The riata, which appliance or weapon has been described, is ever the accompaniment of the Mexican horseman, and part of his equipment. No rider would ever go forth without, for its multiplicity of uses in woodcraft and travel is remarkable. It is one of the main accoutrements of the rurales, the fine body of county police which were called into being by President Diaz. At the time of the war with the French of Maximilian the riata was sometimes employed by the Mexican soldiers with deadly effect in foraging or scouting parties. Two Mexicans, each with the end of a riata wound round the horn of his saddle, would charge suddenly from ambush upon some unsuspecting Franceses, tearing them from their horses with the taut rope. "The Mexicans have a terrible and barbarous weapon—the riata!"—was recorded by the French soldiery at that time.

As to foreigners in Mexico at the present time, those most in evidence are the Spaniards and the Americans of the United States. Spaniards are continually arriving, and they generally settle down and make good and useful citizens, and often amass much wealth. They are not, however, of the upper or cultivated class from Spain, and their manners and language are far inferior to those of the cultured Mexicans. The Spaniard of a certain class is possibly the worst-spoken man to be met with. His speech teems with indecent words and profane oaths, and whilst he does not mean to use these except as a mere habit, it marks him out from other races, even from the American with his own peculiar and constant "god-dam" and other characteristic terms, both profane and indecent. The most noticeable and objectionable American habit, however, which is shared by the Mexican and South American to the full, is that of continually expectorating. The Anglo-American never leaves it off, whilst, as to the Spanish-American, it is necessary to put up notices in the churches in some places requesting people "not to spit in the house of God!" There is a considerable population of Americans in Mexico, and some of these are of doubtful class and antecedents. But it would be unjust to pretend that only the Americans have furnished a doubtful element for Mexico's floating population. The shores of Albion have furnished a good many examples in the form of "unspeakable" Scotchmen, Englishmen, and Irishmen, at times. Yet the British name has, as a rule, been well established throughout Mexico and Spanish-America, and the American from the United States has often enjoyed the benefit of a reputation he had not earned, for, to the native mind, the distinction between the two English-speaking races is not always apparent at first sight, although it is upon closer acquaintance.