It is dead, impaled upon the sharp spikes of the plant, as it came there by falling from above.
A smile curls upon her lips as she sits regarding it.
"So, _yegua_!" she says, bringing the mare to a stand, and half-turning her.

"I've been losing my time and you your labour.

The abominable birds--it's only one of themselves that has dropped dead, and they're holding a _velorio_ over it." She continues, again facing towards the dead vulture.
"Now, I wonder if they are only waking it, or if the wakers are cannibals, and intend making a repast on one of their own kind.

That would be a curious fact for our natural historian, Don Prospero.
Suppose we stay awhile and see ?" For a moment she seems undecided as to staying or going.

Only for a moment, when an incident occurs that changes the current of her thoughts from scientific curiosity to something of fear.
The bloodhounds that have lagged behind in the scurry across the plain, now close up; and, instead of stopping by the side of Lolita, rush on towards the yucca.