It runs all the way under the ground from hence to the cathedral of Compostella."Passing through the village, which he likewise informed me possessed baths, and was much visited by the people of Santiago, we shaped our course to the north-west, and by so doing doubled a mountain which rose majestically over our heads, its top crowned with bare and broken rocks, whilst on our right, on the other side of a spacious valley, was a high range, connected with the mountains to the northward of Saint James.On the summit of this range rose high embattled towers, which my guide informed me were those of Altamira, an ancient and ruined castle, formerly the principal residence in this province of the counts of that name.Turning now due west, we were soon at the bottom of a steep and rugged pass, which led to more elevated regions.The ascent cost us nearly half an hour, and the difficulties of the ground were such, that I more than once congratulated myself on having left my own horses behind, and being mounted on the gallant little pony which, accustomed to such paths, scrambled bravely forward, and eventually brought us in safety to the top of the ascent.
Here we entered a Gallegan cabin, or choza, for the purpose of refreshing the animal and ourselves.The quadruped ate some maize, whilst we two bipeds regaled ourselves on some broa and aguardiente, which a woman whom we found in the hut placed before us.I walked out for a few minutes to observe the aspect of the country, and on my return found my guide fast asleep on the bench where I had left him.He sat bolt upright, his back supported against the wall, and his legs pendulous, within three inches of the ground, being too short to reach it.
I remained gazing upon him for at least five minutes, whilst he enjoyed slumbers seemingly as quiet and profound as those of death itself.His face brought powerfully to my mind some of those uncouth visages of saints and abbots which are occasionally seen in the niches of the walls of ruined convents.There was not the slightest gleam of vitality in his countenance, which for colour and rigidity might have been of stone, and which was as rude and battered as one of the stone heads at Icolmkill, which have braved the winds of twelve hundred years.I continued gazing on his face till I became almost alarmed, concluding that life might have departed from its harassed and fatigued tenement.On my shaking him rather roughly by the shoulder he slowly awoke, opening his eyes with a stare and then closing them again.For a few moments he was evidently unconscious of where he was.On my shouting to him, however, and inquiring whether he intended to sleep all day instead of conducting me to Finisterra, he dropped upon his legs, snatched up his hat, which lay on the table, and instantly ran out of the door, exclaiming, "Yes, yes, Iremember - follow me, captain, and I will lead you to Finisterra in no time." I looked after him, and perceived that he was hurrying at a considerable pace in the direction in which we had hitherto been proceeding."Stop," said I, "stop!
will you leave me here with the pony? Stop, we have not paid the reckoning.Stop!" He, however, never turned his head for a moment, and in less than a minute was out of sight.The pony, which was tied to a crib at one end of the cabin, began now to neigh terrifically, to plunge, and to erect its tail and mane in a most singular manner.It tore and strained at the halter till I was apprehensive that strangulation would ensue.
"Woman," I exclaimed, "where are you, and what is the meaning of all this?" But the hostess had likewise disappeared, and though I ran about the choza, shouting myself hoarse, no answer was returned.The pony still continued to scream and to strain at the halter more violently than ever."Am I beset with lunatics?" I cried, and flinging down a peseta on the table, unloosed the halter, and attempted to introduce the bit into the mouth of the animal.This, however, I found impossible to effect.Released from the halter, the pony made at once for the door, in spite of all the efforts which I could make to detain it."If you abandon me," said I, "I am in a pretty situation; but there is a remedy for everything!" with which words I sprang into the saddle, and in a moment more the creature was bearing me at a rapid gallop in the direction, as I supposed, of Finisterra.My position, however diverting to the reader, was rather critical to myself.I was on the back of a spirited animal, over which I had no control, dashing along a dangerous and unknown path.I could not discover the slightest vestige of my guide, nor did I pass anyone from whom I could derive any information.Indeed, the speed of the animal was so great, that even in the event of my meeting or overtaking a passenger, I could scarcely have hoped to exchange a word with him."Is the pony trained to this work?" said Imentally."Is he carrying me to some den of banditti, where my throat will be cut, or does he follow his master by instinct?"Both of these suspicions I however soon abandoned; the pony's speed relaxed, he appeared to have lost the road.He looked about uneasily: at last, coming to a sandy spot, he put his nostrils to the ground, and then suddenly flung himself down, and wallowed in true pony fashion.I was not hurt, and instantly made use of this opportunity to slip the bit into his mouth, which previously had been dangling beneath his neck; Ithen remounted in quest of the road.
