He partook of a hearty meal, and then, with the good wishes of the villagers, leaped upon the mustang and yelled:
“Away! for life or death!”
Like a rocket the fleet mustang went on the track.
Onward, with fearful bounds, the ground fairly gliding beneath the flying hoofs of the fleet steed; through valleys, through groves, over marshlands and meadows, past tall trees flitting like ghosts in the starlight, and in an incredibly short space of time the gallant little animal dashed into the village, where Carlos stood holding the bridle of a fresh courier.
“Thanks,” cried Pedro, and with one flying leap he was upon the back of the other mustang.
“Away,” he cried, and drove his spurs deep into the side of the steed.
With an angry snort the mustang dashed madly away, the strong hand of the reckless rider guiding him with ease and skill.
With frightful bounds the incensed steed leaped over the irregular ground, and in a few minutes his magnificent burst of speed brought him out upon the level plain, where the mustang was pulled down to a long, swinging gallop, that covered the ground very rapidly.
On, on, steadily onward; and when the noble little steed began to flag the cruel spurs urged it on, and just as the mustang was failing, Pedro dashed into a little town and pulled up at the door of the sole inn of the village.
He leaped from the back of his foaming horse.