We were now standing at a great altitude between two bays:  the wilderness of waters before us.  Of all the ten thousand barks which annually plough those seas in sight of that old cape, not one was to be descried.  It was a blue shiny waste, broken by no object save the black head of a spermaceti whale, which would occasionally show itself at the top, casting up thin jets of brine.  The principal bay, that of Finisterra, as far as the entrance, was beautifully variegated by an immense shoal of sardinhas, on whose extreme skirts the monster was probably feasting.  From the northern side of the cape we looked down upon a smaller bay, the shore of which was overhung by rocks of various and grotesque shapes; this is called the outer bay, or, in the language of the country, Praia do mar de fora:  a fearful place in seasons of wind and tempest, when the long swell of the Atlantic pouring in, is broken into surf and foam by the sunken rocks with which it abounds.  Even in the calmest day there is a rumbling and a hollow roar in that bay which fill the heart with uneasy sensations.

On all sides there was grandeur and sublimity.  After gazing from the summit of the Cape for nearly an hour we descended.

On reaching the house where we had taken up our temporary habitation, we perceived that the portal was occupied by several men, some of whom were reclining on the floor drinking wine out of small earthen pans, which are much used in this part of Galicia.  With a civil salutation I passed on, and ascended the staircase to the room in which we had taken our repast.  Here there was a rude and dirty bed, on which I flung myself, exhausted with fatigue.  I determined to take a little repose, and in the evening to call the people of the place together, to read a few chapters of the Scripture, and then to address them with a little Christian exhortation.  I was soon asleep, but my slumbers were by no means tranquil.  I thought I was surrounded with difficulties of various kinds amongst rocks and ravines, vainly endeavouring to extricate myself; uncouth visages showed themselves amidst the trees and in the hollows, thrusting out cloven tongues and uttering angry cries.  I looked around for my guide, but could not find him; methought, however, that I heard his voice down a deep dingle.  He appeared to be talking of me.  How long I might have continued in these wild dreams I know not.  I was suddenly, however, seized roughly by the shoulder and nearly dragged from the bed.  I looked up in amazement, and by the light of the descending sun I beheld hanging over me a wild and uncouth figure; it was that of an elderly man, built as strong as a giant, with much beard and whiskers, and huge bushy eyebrows, dressed in the habiliments of a fisherman; in his hand was a rusty musket.

Myself.—­Who are you and what do you want?

Figure.—­Who I am matters but little.  Get up and follow me; it is you I want.