of the Spanish horse; still the mustang is a very useful animal, and although it is difficult to cure him of his "Indian tricks," he is strong, hardy, runs about fifteen or sixteen hands, and may be purchased for a trifle, compared to the price required for an American horse.

The mustang is ofttimes hunted for his hide by the settlers, which is used for various purposes, but more particularly for the manufacture of the larriet or lazo (noose). When buffalo and deer are scarce, the Indians hunt the mustang for food.

Several plans are resorted to to catch them. One is, to be in ambush and well mounted near to their watering places, dash in amongst them, and noose them with the lazo. Another plan is to form a large temporary inclosure, driving them into it, and then they are easily noosed. Then, to crease them: the hunter has to get within a near rifle shot, planting the ball in the upper part of the neck; if properly done, the animal staggers, bleeds a little, and is easily taken, when ofttimes the wound heals, and he is fit for service. But when the skin, mane, and tail are merely required, then a mortal wound is generally given. Formerly, vast numbers roamed all over Texas, particularly in the west, where the nutritious musquit-grass is in abundance, and many clear streams, Their numbers are fast diminishing; and as the country gets settled, the wild horse, as will be the fate of even wilder animals, must disappear. At present herds are seldom seen of more than from forty to fifty, and from having been hunted a great deal they are very shy, so that much care is required in approaching them to get a sure shot.

On this day's hunt we formed ourselves into an extended line, or rather half-moon, so as to have command of some extent of country, when about noon were seen some dark specks on a hilly ridge ahead of

us.

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Mustangs!" shouted Castro, whose piercing eye first saw the wild horse of the desert.

The plan now resorted to was to surround them ere they saw us, and thus we stood a good chance of getting a shot at them, for none of us had a horse sufficiently fleet to come up with them. Onward we went, and making now our circle smaller and smaller-for the mustangs had evidently caught sight of us-we dismounted, unsaddled, got to leeward of our horses, walking by their sides, urging them quietly onwards. The mustangs stood firmly for some time, now stamping, starting, coming to a rest again, snorting holding a council of war amongst themselves, when off they bounded towards a narrow dell.

We had now to mount, bare back, towards the dell; our fleetest horses headed them in the deep valley, others went below, whilst the remainder of our party took possession of the heights, and then gently getting down into the valley. We had in a measure hemmed the mus tangs into the bed of the stream; they pranced and galloped about, generally altogether, and it appeared pretty clear that, seeing themselves thus beset, meditated a rush up or down the valley. We had got to within pretty fair range of them, but the celerity of their movements prevented us getting a good shot. At last our backwoodsman aimed at one of them, intending to crease them, but the wound was mortal.

The Indians managed to get two, at which they were delighted. Skinning now commenced, and, had we been short of food, doubtless

the prime parts would have been roasted. pleased with our day's sport.

We returned to camp,

On our route next day the country was literally alive with deer and antelope, hares and shunks (pole-cats), with now and then a wolf or fox. Some good settlements might be made in this part of the country, if emigrants would be contented with springs and small streams, and good prairie pasturages for sheep.

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We nooned" at the Olmos springs, the waters of which run into the San Antonio River, and a favourite place of the San Antonio folks for hunting, and particularly for wild turkeys and the prairie hen. Saddling up," about two P.M., we had a pleasant ride towards Bejar, the ancient capital of Texas, and on gaining the summit of the ridge known as the " Comanche Look-out," the valley of San Antonio was seen in great perfection. The cupola of the church, the Alamo, the castellated houses, and dense foliage here and there, make it a picture.

As we approached the town, we heard firing as if of musketry. We halted for a while, when it was unanimously decided at all events to enter the town. If the Mexicans had taken possession during our absence, they might shoot us, but in all probability they would send us to the City of Mexico, which would have given us an opportunity of beholding the "Halls of the Montezumas, and not at our own expense. In a few minutes our views relative to a probable residence in the dungeons of the Inquisition, or in the Castle of Perote, or mending the roads, were changed; for in a labor, or field, we perceived a Mexican family of our acquaintance, eating water melons, and learnt from them that the firing was occasioned by the sportsmen of the town being out partridge-shooting.

Thus ended a pleasant and profitable hunting expedition in Western Texas.

DRAFTS FROM "THE BADMINTON.”

ENGRAVED BY J. SCOTT, FROM A PAINTING BY W. BARRAND.

When, at the commencement of another season, the regular subscriber trots up to the "Kirby gate" of his especial pack, how gratefully old faces greet him! and yet how strikingly here and there he notes the absence of some well-known one! The veteran squire and his grown-grey chesnut are already, as usual, in waiting, showing every sign of having renewed their lease on the nobody knows-howmany open winters they have worked through together. "The young master," though, who took the young Hercules horse on at such a bat in our April scurry from the Fir Clumps, is tanning his fresh merry phiz in India, instead of purpling the skirt of his bit of pink in another burst over Deepdean Field, or hazarding all its glory in another shy at the big brook. Still, to make amends, we have a second of our evergreens in Farmer Sandford, who has actually discarded the brown cut away we so long identified him with, but sporting an Oxford grey of something the same style, and, as

you may hear, if you won't trust your eyes for the identity, just as strong as ever in tenant-right and foxes versus pheasants. Iterum iterumque, too, for you must take the bad with the good as they come, hark to friend Crammemon, who, not having broken his neck in the off months, is prepared once more with, as he assures you, a horse that no man yet ever could ride, and that even he himself feels he shall never get a pull at after he is once in his stride. After him, let's have another glance-ay, after him, and here come

"The hounds," says old John, with a touch of his break-o'-day, and a most welcome recognition in his look-" the hounds are coming now, sir!" lighting up his face at the very sound of his own announcement, and "setting fair" his round white jacket, as if he had got his head straight already for the first nick in our morning's march. John is an original and stouter edition of the Cheltenham tailor, and lives upon hunting and half-crowns.

And here comes the hounds, as he says, with Will in the middle of them, on the grey we mean to take his picture on some fine day or another; for the present, though, we will be content with a look at his favourites, and try and see if we can't find a few of our old friends of a few seasons since. That's a pleasure, if you like, for a true lover of hounds, to recognise the tried steady hunter, whose note has so often sent us going again, and mark the well-merited praise with which his huntsman speaks of him. As we can fortunately adopt this course now, we will proceed to the history and estimate of our" Draft" as we have been favoured with it.

Of the three hounds portrayed, the first, and perhaps the best, Potentate, is the only one now in the Badminton kennel; in the new list he occupies with an own sister, Pamela, and one other, the extent of their eight-year-old hunters. He is by Wonder, out of Prudence, and, in Long's own words, "a better hound no man could have." From his very entry he commenced with doing the work of an old hound-a piece of promise generally anything but to be relied on, as these clever young ones, like precocious children, frequently retrograde after the first flash of their excellence has shown itself. In Potentate, however, we have a grand exception to this, as might, indeed, be concluded from his still being continued at work. To quote his huntsman again, "He does all that is wanting in a foxhound, runs hard if the scent serves, and hunts with all the patience required on a bad scenting day."

Frankfort, by Woodman out of Faithful, is gone to Lord Elcho as a stallion; but while in Gloucestershire he proved himself a good steady hunter, as well as being highly thought of in the kennel, Long having some couple of his stock now at work.

The bitch Paragon, which died in the summer of 'forty-six, was by Mr. Foljambe's Cruiser out of Pleasant. Her two sisters of the same litter, Prophetess and Purity, are still in the pack. "Paragon was a particularly hard-running bitch, and very stout; no day too long for her."

The celebrity of the Badminton as a pack of foxhounds, and the popularity of his Grace the Duke of Beaufort as a master, are too well known and appreciated to need any flourish from us in introducing a Draft from them here. As a painting, both in subject and