The distance between Granada and Murcia is not very accurately measured; but it is computed to be about forty-seven leagues, which is nearly two hundred miles. For this journey, I agreed to pay the muleteer twenty-five dollars; which I thought a reasonable demand for a journey of thirteen days. I did not intend to make much use of the tartana, excepting for carrying my portmanteau, and a basket of provisions; the mule walks the whole of the way; and the daily journey averaging only about thirty-two miles, it would be no difficult matter to keep pace with it. I left Granada at three o’clock, P.M., in order that we might arrive the same night at a village called Huetor; from which an easy journey would carry us to Guadix the night following. By any other arrangement, we should have been obliged to rest every night at a solitary venta. We no sooner got clear of Granada, than we were enclosed among the mountains; and in a wild, uncultivated country, overrun with the Esparto rush,--the Sierra Nevada lying on our right, and a range of other, and somewhat lower, mountains on our left. The road alternately descended into deep narrow valleys, and climbed the heights that separated them; but, upon the whole, we gradually got into a higher country; and it was dusk long before we reached Huetor. I noticed several fires blazing in remote spots of the ravines; and one of these we passed so near, that I was able to distinguish several persons around it: the muleteer told me that these persons were migratory peasantry, who avoided the ventas from economy; or, perhaps, houseless persons, who lived by the produce of their gun. About half a mile before reaching Huetor, we passed a chapel erected in a very dreary spot; a lamp burned before an image of the virgin, and the light, shining upon the road, shewed me a monumental cross standing by the way-side. Soon after, we reached the village and its venta.