第50章

What do you think the perverse brute did? Instead of keeping to the path, she turned in the very direction in which we were;there was now no remedy, so we stood still.I was the first upon the terrace, and by me she passed so close that I felt her hair brush against my legs; she, however, took no notice of me, but pushed on, neither looking to the right nor left, and all the other wolves trotted by me without offering the slightest injury or even so much as looking at me.Would that I could say as much for my poor companion, who stood farther on, and was, I believe, less in the demon's way than I was; she had nearly passed him, when suddenly she turned half round and snapped at him.I shall never forget what followed: in a moment a dozen wolves were upon him, tearing him limb from limb, with howlings like nothing in this world; in a few moments he was devoured; nothing remained but a skull and a few bones; and then they passed on in the same manner as they came.

Good reason had I to be grateful that my lady wolf took less notice of me than my poor comrade."Listening to this and similar conversation, I fell into a doze before the fire, in which I continued for a considerable time, but was at length aroused by a voice exclaiming in a loud tone, "All are captured!" These were the exact words which, when spoken by his daughter, confounded the Gypsy upon the moor.I looked around me, the company consisted of the same individuals to whose conversation I had been listening before Isank into slumber; but the beggar was now the spokesman, and he was haranguing with considerable vehemence.

"I beg your pardon, Caballero," said I, "but I did not hear the commencement of your discourse.Who are those who have been captured?""A band of accursed Gitanos, Caballero," replied the beggar, returning the title of courtesy, which I had bestowed upon him."During more than a fortnight they have infested the roads on the frontier of Castile, and many have been the gentleman travellers like yourself whom they have robbed and murdered.It would seem that the Gypsy canaille must needs take advantage of these troublous times, and form themselves into a faction.It is said that the fellows of whom I am speaking expected many more of their brethren to join them, which is likely enough, for all Gypsies are thieves: but praised be God, they have been put down before they became too formidable.I saw them myself conveyed to the prison at -.

Thanks be to God.TODOS ESTAN PRESOS."

"The mystery is now solved," said I to myself, and proceeded to despatch my supper, which was now ready.

The next day's journey brought me to a considerable town, the name of which I have forgotten.It is the first in New Castile, in this direction.I passed the night as usual in the manger of the stable, close beside the Caballeria; for, as Itravelled upon a donkey, I deemed it incumbent upon me to be satisfied with a couch in keeping with my manner of journeying, being averse, by any squeamish and over delicate airs, to generate a suspicion amongst the people with whom I mingled that I was aught higher than what my equipage and outward appearance might lead them to believe.Rising before daylight, I again proceeded on my way, hoping ere night to be able to reach Talavera, which I was informed was ten leagues distant.

The way lay entirely over an unbroken level, for the most part covered with olive trees.On the left, however, at the distance of a few leagues, rose the mighty mountains which Ihave already mentioned.They run eastward in a seemingly interminable range, parallel with the route which I was pursuing; their tops and sides were covered with dazzling snow, and the blasts which came sweeping from them across the wide and melancholy plains were of bitter keenness.

"What mountains are those?" I inquired of a barber-surgeon, who, mounted like myself on a grey burra, joined me about noon, and proceeded in my company for several leagues.

"They have many names, Caballero," replied the barber;"according to the names of the neighbouring places so they are called.Yon portion of them is styled the Serrania of Plasencia; and opposite to Madrid they are termed the Mountains of Guadarama, from a river of that name, which descends from them; they run a vast way, Caballero, and separate the two kingdoms, for on the other side is Old Castile.They are mighty mountains, and though they generate much cold, I take pleasure in looking at them, which is not to be wondered at, seeing that I was born amongst them, though at present, for my sins, I live in a village of the plain.Caballero, there is not another such range in Spain; they have their secrets too -their mysteries - strange tales are told of those hills, and of what they contain in their deep recesses, for they are a broad chain, and you may wander days and days amongst them without coming to any termino.Many have lost themselves on those hills, and have never again been heard of.Strange things are told of them: it is said that in certain places there are deep pools and lakes, in which dwell monsters, huge serpents as long as a pine tree, and horses of the flood, which sometimes come out and commit mighty damage.One thing is certain, that yonder, far away to the west, in the heart of those hills, there is a wonderful valley, so narrow that only at midday is the face of the sun to be descried from it.That valley lay undiscovered and unknown for thousands of years; no person dreamed of its existence, but at last, a long time ago, certain hunters entered it by chance, and then what do you think they found, Caballero? They found a small nation or tribe of unknown people, speaking an unknown language, who, perhaps, had lived there since the creation of the world, without intercourse with the rest of their fellow creatures, and without knowing that other beings besides themselves existed!

Caballero, did you never hear of the valley of the Batuecas?