"No; they are prowlers brought here by the drought; and are the more dangerous because, as they do not belong to these parts, they rest where they please—sometimes at one place, sometimes at another, and it becomes very difficult to follow their trail."
"I only hope they will not think of coming here," the mother said, anxiously.
"I do not believe they will, for wild beasts shun the vicinity of man. Still, Doña Marianna had better, for some days to come, restrict her rides, and not venture too far into the forest."
"What can I have to fear?"
"Nothing, I hope; still it is better to act prudently. Wild beasts are animals whose habits it is very difficult to discover, especially when they are in unknown parts, as these are."
"Nonsense!" the young lady said, with a laugh; "You are trying to frighten me, tocayo."
"Do not believe that; I will accompany you with Bigote to the hacienda."
The dog, which had returned to its master's side after performing its duties, wagged its tail, and looked up in her face.
"I will not allow that, tocayo," the young lady replied, as she passed her hand through the dog's silky coat, and pulled its ears; "let Bigote have a rest. I came alone, and will return alone; and mounted on Negro, I defy the tigers to catch me up, unless they are ambuscaded on my road."
"Still, niña—" Mariano objected.