An old man, but remarkably bony and hale, accompanied by a bare-footed lad, brought the beasts. He was the proprietor of them, and intended to accompany us to Evora with the lad, who was his nephew. When we started the moon was shining brightly, and the morning was piercingly cold. We soon entered a sandy, hollow way, emerging from which we passed by a large edifice, standing on a high, bleak sand-hill, on our left. We were speedily overtaken by five or six men on horseback, riding at a rapid pace, each with a long gun slung at his saddle, the muzzle depending about two feet below the horses belly. I questioned the old man as to the cause of their going thus armed; he answered that the roads were very bad (meaning that they abounded with robbers), and that these people carried arms for their defence. They soon turned off to the right towards Palmella. We reached a sandy plain studded with stunted pine; the road was little more than a footpath, and as we proceeded the trees thickened and became a wood, which extended for two leagues with clear spaces at intervals, in which herds of cattle and sheep were feeding. The sun was just beginning to show itself, but the morning was misty and dreary, which together with the aspect of desolation which the country exhibited had an unfavourable effect on my spirits. I got down and walked, entering into conversation with the man. He seemed to have but one theme of conversation, 'the robbers' and the atrocities they were in the habit of practising in the very spots we were passing. The tales he related were truly horrible, and to avoid them I mounted again and rode on considerably in front.