hue, as the atmospheric illusions which in that dreary and deceptive
light sometimes gave them the appearance of primeval mountains, and
sometimes that of fleecy and baseless clouds.
(3) Vied Cervantes, spud Don Quixote DE Collins Obed.
“Don Francisco at first dropt the reins on his mule’s neck, and uttered
sundry ejaculations to the Virgin. Finding this did no good,--that the
hills still seemed to wander before his bewildered eyes, and the mule,
on the other hand, remained immoveable, he bethought himself of calling
on a variety of saints, whose names the echoes of the hills returned
with the most perfect punctuality, but not one of whom happened just
then to be at leisure to attend to his petitions. Finding the case thus
desperate, Don Francisco struck spurs into his mule, and gallopped up a
rocky defile, where the hoofs of his beast struck fire at every step,
and their echo from the rocks of granite made the rider tremble, lest he
was pursued by banditti at every step he took. The mule, so provoked,
gallopped fiercely on, till the rider, weary as he was, and somewhat
incommoded by its speed, drew up the reins more tightly, at hearing the
steps of another rider close behind him. The mule paused instantly. Some
say that animals have a kind of instinct in discovering and recognizing
the approach of beings not of this world. However that may be, Don
Francisco’s mule stood as if its feet had been nailed to the road, till
the approach of the traveller set it once more into a gallop, on which,
as it appeared, the gallop of the pursuer, whose course seemed fleeter
than that of an earthly rider, gained fast, and in a few moments a
singular figure rode close beside Don Francisco.
“He was not in a riding dress, but muffled from head to foot in a long
cloke, whose folds were so ample as almost to hide the flanks of his
beast. As soon as he was abreast with Aliaga, he removed that part of
the cloke which covered his head and shoulders, and, turning towards
him, disclosed the unwelcome countenance of his mysterious visitor the
preceding night. “We meet again, Senhor,” said the stranger, with his
peculiar smile, “and fortunately for you, I trust. Your guide has ridden
off with the money you advanced him for his services, and your servants
are ignorant of the roads, which, in this part of the country, are
singularly perplexed. If you will accept of me as your guide, you will,
I believe, have reason to congratulate yourself on our encounter.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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