The Bible in Spain: Or, the Journeys, Adventures, and Imprisonments of an Englishman, in an Attempt to Circulate the Scriptures in the PeninsulaBorrow, George
Religion
The Bible in Spain: Or, the Journeys, Adventures, and Imprisonments of an Englishman, in an Attempt to Circulate the Scriptures in the Peninsula
Borrow, George
Borrow, George, 1803-1881 -- Travel -- Spain; Spain -- Description and travel; Spain -- History -- 19th century
We entered upon the moor, and had advanced about a mile when dark night
fell around us; we were in a wild path, with high brushwood on either
side, when the rider said that he could not confront the darkness, and
begged me to ride on before, and he would follow after: I could hear him
trembling. I asked the reason of his terror, and he replied that at one
time darkness was the same thing to him as day, but that of late years he
dreaded it, especially in wild places. I complied with his request, but
I was ignorant of the way, and as I could scarcely see my hand, was
continually going wrong. This made the man impatient, and he again
placed himself at our head. We proceeded so for a considerable way, when
he again stopped, and said that the power of the darkness was too much
for him. His horse seemed to be infected with the same panic, for it
shook in every limb. I now told him to call on the name of the Lord
Jesus, who was able to turn the darkness into light, but he gave a
terrible shout, and, brandishing his gun aloft, discharged it in the air.
His horse sprang forward at full speed, and my mule, which was one of the
swiftest of its kind, took fright and followed at the heels of the
charger. Antonio and the boy were left behind. On we flew like a
whirlwind, the hoofs of the animals illuming the path with the sparks of
fire they struck from the stones. I knew not whither we were going, but
the dumb creatures were acquainted with the way, and soon brought us to
Vendas Novas, where we were rejoined by our companions.
I thought this man was a coward, but I did him injustice, for during the
day he was as brave as a lion, and feared no one. About five years
since, he had overcome two robbers who had attacked him on the moors,
and, after tying their hands behind them, had delivered them up to
justice; but at night the rustling of a leaf filled him with terror. I
have known similar instances of the kind in persons of otherwise
extraordinary resolution. For myself, I confess I am not a person of
extraordinary resolution, but the dangers of the night daunt me no more
than those of midday. The man in question was a farmer from Evora, and a
person of considerable wealth.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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