When the sun arose, which it did gloomily and amidst threatening
rain-clouds, we found ourselves in the neighbourhood of a range of
mountains which lay on our left, and which, Antonio informed me,
were called the Sierra of San Selvan; our route, however, lay over
wide plains, scantily clothed with brushwood, with here and there a
melancholy village, with its old and dilapidated church.
Throughout the greater part of the day, a drizzling rain was
falling, which turned the dust of the roads into mud and mire,
considerably impeding our progress. Towards evening we reached a
moor, a wild place enough, strewn with enormous stones and rocks.
Before us, at some distance, rose a strange conical hill, rough and
shaggy, which appeared to be neither more nor less than an immense
assemblage of the same kind of rocks which lay upon the moor. The
rain had now ceased, but a strong wind rose and howled at our
backs. Throughout the journey, I had experienced considerable
difficulty in keeping up with the mule of Antonio; the walk of the
horse was slow, and I could discover no vestige of the spirit which
the Gypsy had assured me lurked within him. We were now upon a
tolerably clear spot of the moor: "I am about to see," I said,
"whether this horse has any of the quality which you have
described." "Do so," said Antonio, and spurred his beast onward,
speedily leaving me far behind.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 137 of 809
Words from 38737 to 38991
of 222596
