At noon to-day we were again in the saddle, and took the road to the Baths of Caratraca.  The tall factory chimneys of Malaga, vomiting forth streams of black smoke, marred the serenity of the sky; but the distant view of the city is very fine.  The broad Vega, watered by the Guadaljorce, is rich and well cultivated, and now rejoices in the verdure of spring.  The meadows are clothed with fresh grass, butter-cups and daisies are in blossom, and larks sing in the olive-trees.  Now and then, we passed a casa del campo, with its front half buried in orange-trees, over which towered two or three sentinel palms.  After two leagues of this delightful travel, the country became more hilly, and the groups of mountains which inclosed us assumed the most picturesque and enchanting forms.  The soft haze in which the distant peaks were bathed, the lovely violet shadows filling up their chasms and gorges, and the fresh meadows, vineyards, and olive groves below, made the landscape one of the most beautiful I have seen in Spain.

As we were trotting along through the palmetto thickets, Jose asked me if I should not like to hear an Andalusian story.  “Nothing would please me better,” I replied.  “Ride close beside me, then,” said he, “that you may understand every word of it.”  I complied, and he gave me the following, just as I repeat it:  “There was once a very rich man, who had thousands of cattle in the Sierra Nevada, and hundreds of houses in the city.  Well:  this man put a plate, with his name on it, on the door of the great house in which he lived, and the name was this:  Don Pedro, without Fear and without Care.  Now, when the King was making his paseo, he happened to ride by this house in his carriage, and saw the plate on the door.  ’Read me the name on that plate!’ said he to his officer.  Then the officer read the name:  Don Pedro, without Fear and without Care.  ’I will see whether Don Pedro is without Fear and without Care,’ said the King.  The next day came a messenger to the house, and, when he saw Don Pedro, said he to him; ‘Don Pedro, without Fear and without Care, the King wants you!’ ’What does the King want with me?’ said Don Pedro.  ’He sends you four questions which you must answer within four days, or he will have you shot; and the questions are:—­How can the Sierra Nevada be cleared of snow?  How can the sea be made smaller?  How many arrobas does the moon weigh?  And:  How many leagues from here to the Land of Heavenly Glory?’ Then Don Pedro without Fear and without Care began to sweat from fright, and knew not what he should do.  He called some of his arrieros and loaded twenty mules with money, and went up into the Sierra Nevada, where his herdsmen tended his flocks; for, as I said, he had many thousand cattle.  ’God keep you, my master!’ said the chief herdsman, who was young, and buen mozo, and had as good a head as ever was set on two shoulders. ’Anda, hombre! said Don Pedro, ‘I am a dead man;’ and so he told the herdsman all that the King had said.  ‘Oh, is that all?’ said the knowing mozo.  ’I can get you out of the scrape.  Let me go and answer the questions in your name, my master!’ ‘Ah, you fool! what can you do?’ said Don Pedro without Fear and without Care, throwing himself upon the earth, and ready to die.