The Bible in Spain, Vol. 1 [of 2]: 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, Vol. 1 [of 2]: 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
One fine morning I departed from Cordova, in company with the
_contrabandista_; the latter was mounted on a handsome animal, something
between a horse and a pony, which he called a _jaca_, of that breed for
which Cordova is celebrated. It was of a bright bay colour, with a star
in its forehead, with strong but elegant limbs, and a long black tail
which swept the ground. The other animal, which was destined to carry me
to Madrid, was not quite so prepossessing in its appearance. In more
than one respect it closely resembled a hog, particularly in the curving
of its back, the shortness of its neck, and the manner in which it kept
its head nearly in contact with the ground; it had also the tail of a
hog, and meandered over the ground much like one. Its coat more
resembled coarse bristles than hair; and with respect to size, I have
seen many a Westphalian hog quite as tall. I was not altogether
satisfied with the idea of exhibiting myself on the back of this most
extraordinary quadruped, and looked wistfully on the respectable animal
on which my guide had thought proper to place himself. He interpreted my
glances, and gave me to understand that as he was destined to carry the
baggage, he was entitled to the best horse—a plea too well grounded on
reason for me to make any objection to it.
I found the _contrabandista_ by no means such pleasant company on the
road as I had been led to suppose he would prove from the representation
of my host of Cordova. Throughout the day he sat sullen and silent, and
rarely replied to my questions, save by a monosyllable; at night,
however, after having eaten well and drunk proportionably at my expense,
he would occasionally become more sociable and communicative. “I have
given up smuggling,” said he, on one of these occasions, “owing to a
trick which was played upon me the last time that I was at Lisbon: a Jew,
whom I had been long acquainted with, palmed upon me a false brilliant
for a real stone. He effected it in the most extraordinary manner, for I
am not such a novice as not to know a true diamond when I see one; but
the Jew appears to have had two, with which he played most adroitly,
keeping the valuable one for which I bargained, and substituting therefor
another which, though an excellent imitation, was not worth four dollars.
I did not discover the trick until I was across the border, and upon my
hurrying back, the culprit was not to be found; his priest, however, told
me that he was just dead and buried, which was of course false, as I saw
him laughing in the corners of his eyes. I renounced the contraband
trade from that moment.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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