The Bible in Spain Volume I Part 8

CHAPTER X.

The Gypsy's Granddaughter-Proposed Marriage-The Alguazil-The a.s.sault-Speedy Trot-Arrival at Trujillo-Night and Rain-The Forest-The Bivouac-Mount and Away!-Jaraicejo-The National-The Cavalier Balmerson-Among the Thickets-Serious Discourse-What is Truth?-Unexpected Intelligence.

We remained three days at the gypsies' house, Antonio departing early every morning, on his mule, and returning late at night. The house was large and ruinous, the only habitable part of it, with the exception of the stable, being the hall, where we had supped, and there the gypsy females slept at night, on some mats and mattresses in a corner.

"A strange house is this," said I to Antonio, one morning as he was on the point of saddling his mule and departing, as I supposed, on the affairs of Egypt; "a strange house and strange people. That gypsy grandmother has all the appearance of a _sowanee_."

"All the appearance of one!" said Antonio; "and is she not really one?

She knows more crabbed things and crabbed words than all the _Errate_ betwixt here and Catalonia. She has been amongst the wild Moors, and can make more _draos_, {122} poisons, and philtres than any one alive. She once made a kind of paste, and persuaded me to taste, and shortly after I had done so my soul departed from my body, and wandered through horrid forests and mountains, amidst monsters and _duendes_, during one entire night. She learned many things amidst the _Corahai_ which I should be glad to know."

"Have you been long acquainted with her?" said I. "You appear to be quite at home in this house."

"Acquainted with her!" said Antonio. "Did not my own brother marry the black _Calli_, her daughter, who bore him the _chabi_, sixteen years ago, just before he was hanged by the _Busne_?"

In the afternoon I was seated with the gypsy mother in the hall, the two _Callees_ were absent telling fortunes about the town and neighbourhood, which was their princ.i.p.al occupation. "Are you married, my London _Caloro_?" said the old woman to me. "Are you a _ro_?"

_Myself_.-Wherefore do you ask, _O Dai de los Cales_? {123a}

_Gypsy Mother_.-It is high time that the _lacha_ {123b} of the _chabi_ were taken from her, and that she had a _ro_. You can do no better than take her for _romi_, my London _Caloro_.

_Myself_.-I am a stranger in this land, O mother of the gypsies, and scarcely know how to provide for myself, much less for a _romi_.

_Gypsy Mother_.-She wants no one to provide for her, my London _Caloro_; she can at any time provide for herself and her _ro_. She can _hokkawar_, tell _baji_, and there are few to equal her at stealing _a pastesas_. {124} Were she once at _Madrilati_, where they tell me you are going, she would make much treasure; therefore take her thither, for in this _foros_ she is _nahi_, as it were, for there is nothing to be gained; but in the _foros baro_ it would be another matter; she would go dressed in _lachipe_ and _sonacai_, whilst you would ride about on your black-tailed _gra_; and when you had got much treasure, you might return hither and live like a _Crallis_, and all the _Errate_ of the _Chim del Manro_ should bow down their heads to you. What say you, my London _Caloro_, what say you to my plan?

_Myself_.-Your plan is a plausible one, mother, or at least some people would think so; but I am, as you are aware, of another _chim_, and have no inclination to pa.s.s my life in this country.

_Gypsy Mother_.-Then return to your own country, my _Caloro_, the _chabi_ can cross the _pani_. Would she not do business in London with the rest of the _Calore_? Or why not go to the land of the _Corahai_? In which case I would accompany you; I and my daughter, the mother of the _chabi_.

_Myself_.-And what should we do in the land of the _Corahai_? It is a poor and wild country, I believe.

_Gypsy Mother_.-The London _Caloro_ asks me what we could do in the land of the _Corahai_! _Aromali_! I almost think that I am speaking to a _lilipendi_. Are there not horses to _ch.o.r.e_? Yes, I trow there are, and better ones than in this land, and a.s.ses and mules. In the land of the _Corahai_ you must _hokkawar_ and _ch.o.r.e_ even as you must here, or in your own country, or else you are no _Caloro_. Can you not join yourselves with the black people who live in the _despoblados_? Yes, surely; and glad they would be to have among them the _Errate_ from Spain and London. I am seventy years of age, but I wish not to die in this _chim_, but yonder, far away, where both my _roms_ are sleeping. Take the _chabi_, therefore, and go to _Madrilati_ to win the _parne_, and when you have got it, return, and we will give a banquet to all the _Busne_ in Merida, and in their food I will mix _drao_, and they shall eat and burst like poisoned sheep. . . . And when they have eaten we will leave them, and away to the land of the Moor, my London _Caloro_.

During the whole time that I remained at Merida I stirred not once from the house; following the advice of Antonio, who informed me that it would not be convenient. My time lay rather heavily on my hands, my only source of amus.e.m.e.nt consisting in the conversation of the women, and in that of Antonio when he made his appearance at night. In these _tertulias_ the grandmother was the princ.i.p.al spokeswoman, and astonished my ears with wonderful tales of the land of the Moors, prison escapes, thievish feats, and one or two poisoning adventures, in which she had been engaged, as she informed me, in her early youth.

There was occasionally something very wild in her gestures and demeanour; more than once I observed her, in the midst of much declamation, to stop short, stare in vacancy, and thrust out her palms as if endeavouring to push away some invisible substance; she goggled frightfully with her eyes, and once sank back in convulsions, of which her children took no farther notice than observing that she was only _lili_, and would soon come to herself.

Late in the afternoon of the third day, as the three women and myself sat conversing as usual over the _brasero_, a shabby-looking fellow in an old rusty cloak walked into the room. He came straight up to the place where we were sitting, produced a paper cigar, which he lighted at a coal, and taking a whiff or two, looked at me: "_Carracho_," said he, "who is this companion?"

I saw at once that the fellow was no gypsy: the women said nothing, but I could hear the grandmother growling to herself, something after the manner of an old grimalkin when disturbed.

"_Carracho_," reiterated the fellow, "how came this companion here?"

"_No le penela chi_, _min chaboro_," said the black _Callee_ to me, in an undertone; "_sin un balicho de los chineles_;" {126} then looking up to the interrogator, she said aloud, "He is one of our people from Portugal, come on the smuggling lay, and to see his poor sisters here."

"Then let him give me some tobacco," said the fellow; "I suppose he has brought some with him."

"He has no tobacco," said the black _Callee_; "he has nothing but old iron. This cigar is the only tobacco there is in the house; take it, smoke it, and go away!"

Thereupon she produced a cigar from out her shoe, which she presented to the _alguazil_.

"This will not do," said the fellow, taking the cigar; "I must have something better. It is now three months since I received anything from you. The last present was a handkerchief, which was good for nothing; therefore hand me over something worth taking, or I will carry you all to the _Carcel_."

"The _Busno_ will take us to prison," said the black _Callee_; "ha! ha!

ha!"

"The _Chinel_ will take us to prison," giggled the young girl; "he! he!

he!"

"The _Bengui_ will carry us all to the _estaripel_," grunted the gypsy grandmother; "ho! ho! ho!"

The three females arose and walked slowly round the fellow, fixing their eyes steadfastly on his face; he appeared frightened, and evidently wished to get away. Suddenly the two youngest seized his hands, and whilst he struggled to release himself, the old woman exclaimed, "You want tobacco, _hijo_-you come to the gypsy house to frighten the _Callees_ and the strange _Caloro_ out of their _plako_-truly, _hijo_, we have none for you, and right sorry I am; we have, however, plenty of the dust _a su servicio_." {127}

Here, thrusting her hand into her pocket, she discharged a handful of some kind of dust or snuff into the fellow's eyes; he stamped and roared, but was for some time held fast by the two _Callees_. He extricated himself, however, and attempted to unsheath a knife which he bore at his girdle; but the two younger females flung themselves upon him like furies, while the old woman increased his disorder by thrusting her stick into his face; he was soon glad to give up the contest, and retreated, leaving behind him his hat and cloak, which the _chabi_ gathered up and flung after him into the street.

"This is a bad business," said I; "the fellow will of course bring the rest of the _justicia_ upon us, and we shall all be cast into the _estaripel_."

"_Ca_!" said the black _Callee_, biting her thumb-nail, "he has more reason to fear us than we him. We could bring him to the _filimicha_; we have, moreover, friends in this town-plenty, plenty."

"Yes," mumbled the grandmother, "the daughters of the _baji_ have friends, my London _Caloro_, friends among the _Busne_, _baributre_, _baribu_."

Nothing farther of any account occurred in the gypsy house. The next day, Antonio and myself were again in the saddle; we travelled at least thirteen leagues before we reached the _venta_, where we pa.s.sed the night. We rose early in the morning, my guide informing me that we had a long day's journey to make. "Where are we bound to?" I demanded. "To Trujillo," he replied.

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 s.h.a.ggy, which appeared to be neither more nor less than an immense a.s.semblage 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 a.s.sured 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. I jerked the horse with the bit, endeavouring to arouse his dormant spirit, whereupon he stopped, reared, and refused to proceed. "Hold the bridle loose, and touch him with your whip," shouted Antonio from before. I obeyed, and forthwith the animal set off at a trot, which gradually increased in swiftness till it became a downright furious speedy trot; his limbs were now thoroughly lithy, and he brandished his fore-legs in a manner perfectly wondrous. The mule of Antonio, which was a spirited animal of excellent paces, would fain have competed with him, but was pa.s.sed in a twinkling. This tremendous trot endured for about a mile, when the animal, becoming yet more heated, broke suddenly into a gallop. Hurrah! no hare ever ran so wildly or blindly; it was, literally, _ventre a terre_; and I had considerable difficulty in keeping him clear of rocks, against which he would have rushed in his savage fury, and dashed himself and rider to atoms.

This race brought me to the foot of the hill, where I waited till the gypsy rejoined me. We left the hill, which seemed quite inaccessible, on our right, pa.s.sing through a small and wretched village. The sun went down, and dark night presently came upon us; we proceeded on, however, for nearly three hours, until we heard the barking of dogs, and perceived a light or two in the distance. "That is Trujillo," said Antonio, who had not spoken for a long time. "I am glad of it," I replied; "I am thoroughly tired; I shall sleep soundly in Trujillo." "That is as it may be," said the gypsy, and spurred his mule to a brisker pace. We soon entered the town, which appeared dark and gloomy enough; I followed close behind the gypsy, who led the way I knew not whither, through dismal streets and dark places, where cats were squalling. "Here is the house,"

said he at last, dismounting before a low mean hut. He knocked-no answer was returned; he knocked again, but still there was no reply; he shook the door and essayed to open it, but it appeared firmly locked and bolted. "_Caramba_!" said he; "they are out-I feared it might be so.

Now, what are we to do?"

"There can be no difficulty," said I, "with respect to what we have to do; if your friends are gone out, it is easy enough to go to a _posada_."

"You know not what you say," replied the gypsy. "I dare not go to the _mesuna_, nor enter any house in Trujillo save this, and this is shut.

Well, there is no remedy; we must move on, and, between ourselves, the sooner we leave this place the better; my own _planoro_ was garroted at Trujillo."

He lighted a cigar, by means of a steel and _yesca_, sprang on his mule, and proceeded through streets and lanes equally dismal as those which we had already traversed, till we again found ourselves out of the town.

I confess I did not much like this decision of the gypsy; I felt very slight inclination to leave the town behind, and to venture into unknown places in the dark night, amidst rain and mist, for the wind had now dropped, and the rain began again to fall briskly. I was, moreover, much fatigued, and wished for nothing better than to deposit myself in some comfortable manger, where I might sink to sleep, lulled by the pleasant sound of horses and mules despatching their provender. I had, however, put myself under the direction of the gypsy, and I was too old a traveller to quarrel with my guide under the present circ.u.mstances. I therefore followed close at his crupper, our only light being the glow emitted from the gypsy's cigar; at last he flung it from his mouth into a puddle, and we were then in darkness.

We proceeded in this manner for a long time. The gypsy was silent; I myself was equally so; the rain descended more and more. I sometimes thought I heard doleful noises, something like the hooting of owls.

"This is a strange night to be wandering abroad in," I at length said to Antonio. "It is, brother," said he; "but I would sooner be abroad in such a night, and in such places, than in the _estaripel_ of Trujillo."

We wandered at least a league farther, and appeared now to be near a wood, for I could occasionally distinguish the trunks of immense trees.

Suddenly Antonio stopped his mule. "Look, brother," said he, "to the left, and tell me if you do not see a light; your eyes are sharper than mine." I did as he commanded me. At first I could see nothing, but, moving a little farther on, I plainly saw a large light at some distance, seemingly amongst the trees. "Yonder cannot be a lamp or candle," said I; "it is more like the blaze of a fire." "Very likely," said Antonio.