“The burra,” I replied, “appears both savage and vicious.”

“She is both, brother, and on that account I bought her; a savage and vicious beast has generally four excellent legs.  You are a Calo, brother, and can manage her; you shall therefore purchase the savage burra, giving my daugher Antonia a baria of gold.  If you think fit, you can sell the beast at Talavera or Madrid, for Estremenian bestis are highly considered in Castumba.”

In less than an hour I was on the other side of the pass, mounted on the savage burra.

CHAPTER XI

The Pass of Mirabete—­Wolves and Shepherds—­Female Subtlety—­Death by Wolves—­The Mystery Solved—­The Mountains—­The Dark Hour—­The Traveller of the Night—­Abarbenel—­Hoarded Treasure—­Force of Gold--The Archbishop—­Arrival at Madrid

I proceeded down the pass of Mirabete, occasionally ruminating on the matter which had brought me to Spain, and occasionally admiring one of the finest prospects in the world; before me outstretched lay immense plains, bounded in the distance by huge mountains, whilst at the foot of the hill which I was now descending, rolled the Tagus, in a deep narrow stream, between lofty banks; the whole was gilded by the rays of the setting sun; for the day, though cold and wintry, was bright and clear.  In about an hour I reached the river at a place where stood the remains of what had once been a magnificent bridge, which had, however, been blown up in the Peninsular war and never since repaired.

I crossed the river in a ferry-boat; the passage was rather difficult, the current very rapid and swollen, owing to the latter rains.

“Am I in New Castile?” I demanded of the ferryman, on reaching the further bank.  “The raya is many leagues from hence,” replied the ferryman; “you seem a stranger.  Whence do you come?” “From England,” I replied, and without waiting for an answer, I sprang on the burra, and proceeded on my way.  The burra plied her feet most nimbly, and, shortly after nightfall, brought me to a village at about two leagues’ distance from the river’s bank.

I sat down in the venta where I put up; there was a huge fire, consisting of the greater part of the trunk of an olive tree; the company was rather miscellaneous:  a hunter with his escopeta; a brace of shepherds with immense dogs, of that species for which Estremadura is celebrated; a broken soldier, just returned from the wars; and a beggar, who, after demanding charity for the seven wounds of Maria Santissima, took a seat amidst us, and made himself quite comfortable.  The hostess was an active bustling woman, and busied herself in cooking my supper, which consisted of the game which I had purchased at Jaraicejo, and which, on my taking leave of the Gypsy, he had counselled me to take with me.  In the meantime, I sat by the fire listening to the conversation of the company.

“I would I were a wolf,” said one of the shepherds; “or, indeed, anything rather than what I am.  A pretty life is this of ours, out in the campo, among the carascales, suffering heat and cold for a peseta a day.  I would I were a wolf; he fares better and is more respected than the wretch of a shepherd.”