We proceeded in this manner for a long time. The gypsy was silent; I myself was equally so; the rain descended more and more. I sometimes thought I heard doleful noises, something like the hooting of owls. “This is a strange night to be wandering abroad in,” I at length said to Antonio. “It is, brother,” said he; “but I would sooner be abroad in such a night, and in such places, than in the _estaripel_ of Trujillo.” We wandered at least a league farther, and appeared now to be near a wood, for I could occasionally distinguish the trunks of immense trees. Suddenly Antonio stopped his mule. “Look, brother,” said he, “to the left, and tell me if you do not see a light; your eyes are sharper than mine.” I did as he commanded me. At first I could see nothing, but, moving a little farther on, I plainly saw a large light at some distance, seemingly amongst the trees. “Yonder cannot be a lamp or candle,” said I; “it is more like the blaze of a fire.” “Very likely,” said Antonio. “There are no _queres_ in this place; it is doubtless a fire made by _durotunes_. Let us go and join them, for, as you say, it is doleful work wandering about at night amidst rain and mire.” We dismounted and entered what I now saw was a forest, leading the animals cautiously amongst the trees and brushwood. In about five minutes we reached a small open space, at the farther side of which, at the foot of a large cork-tree, a fire was burning, and by it stood or sat two or three figures; they had heard our approach, and one of them now exclaimed, “_Quien vive_!” {132} “I know that voice,” said Antonio; and, leaving the horse with me, rapidly advanced towards the fire. Presently I heard an _Ola_! and a laugh, and soon the voice of Antonio summoned me to advance. On reaching the fire I found two dark lads, and a still darker woman of about forty; the latter seated on what appeared to be horse or mule furniture. I likewise saw a horse and two donkeys tethered to the neighbouring trees. It was, in fact, a gypsy bivouac. . . . “Come forward, brother, and show yourself,” said Antonio to me; “you are amongst friends. These are of the _Errate_, the very people whom I expected to find at Trujillo, and in whose house we should have slept.” “And what,” said I, “could have induced them to leave their house in Trujillo and come into this dark forest, in the midst of wind and rain, to pass the night?” “They come on business of Egypt, brother, doubtless,” replied Antonio; “and that business is none of ours. _Calla boca_! {133a} It is lucky we have found them here, else we should have had no supper, and our horses no corn.”