The dark masses had rolled away over the south-eastern horizon, and were now spending their fury upon the dyewood forests of Honduras and Tabasco.
At our feet lay the prairie, spread before us like a green carpet, and bounded upon the farther side by a dark wall of forest-trees.

Several clumps of timber grew like islands on the plain, adding to the picturesque character of the landscape.
Near the centre of the prairie stood a small rancho, surrounded by a high picket fence.

This we at once recognised as the "corral" mentioned by Don Cosme.
At some distance from the inclosure thousands of cattle were browsing upon the grassy level, their spotted flanks and long upright horns showing their descent from the famous race of Spanish bulls.

Some of them, straggling from the herd, rambled through the "mottes", or lay stretched out under the shade of some isolated palm-tree.

Ox-bells were tinkling their cheerful but monotonous music.