The sun was just appearing as I awoke. I made several efforts before I could rise from the ground; my limbs were quite stiff, and my hair was covered with rime, for the rain had ceased and a rather severe frost set in. I looked around me, but could see neither Antonio nor the gypsies. The animals of the latter had likewise disappeared, so had the horse which I had hitherto rode; the mule, however, of Antonio still remained fastened to the tree. This latter circumstance quieted some apprehensions which were beginning to arise in my mind. “They are gone on some business of Egypt,” I said to myself, “and will return anon.” I gathered together the embers of the fire, and heaping upon them sticks and branches, soon succeeded in calling forth a blaze, beside which I again placed the _puchero_, with what remained of the provision of last night. I waited for a considerable time in expectation of the return of my companions, but as they did not appear, I sat down and breakfasted. Before I had well finished I heard the noise of a horse approaching rapidly, and presently Antonio made his appearance amongst the trees, with some agitation in his countenance. He sprang from the horse, and instantly proceeded to untie the mule. “Mount, brother, mount!” said he, pointing to the horse. “I went with the _Callee_ and her _chabés_ to the village where the _ro_ is in trouble; the _chinobaró_, however, seized them at once with their cattle, and would have laid hands also on me, but I set spurs to the _grasti_, gave him the bridle, and was soon far away. Mount, brother, mount, or we shall have the whole rustic _canaille_ upon us in a twinkling.” I did as he commanded: we were presently in the road which we had left the night before. Along this we hurried at a great rate, the horse displaying his best speedy trot; whilst the mule, with its ears pricked up, galloped gallantly at his side. “What place is that on the hill yonder?” said I to Antonio, at the expiration of an hour, as we prepared to descend a deep valley. “That is Jaraicejo,” said Antonio; “a bad place it is, and a bad place it has ever been for the _Caló_ people.” {135} “If it is such a bad place,” said I, “I hope we shall not have to pass through it.” “We must pass through it,” said Antonio, “for more reasons than one: first, forasmuch as the road lies through Jaraicejo; and, second, forasmuch as it will be necessary to purchase provisions there, both for ourselves and horses. On the other side of Jaraicejo there is a wild desert, a _despoblado_, where we shall find nothing.” We crossed the valley, and ascended the hill, and as we drew near to the town, the gypsy said, “Brother, we had best pass through that town singly. I will go in advance; follow slowly, and when there purchase bread and barley; you have nothing to fear. I will await you on the _despoblado_.” Without waiting for my answer he hastened forward, and was speedily out of sight.