[ 144 ] [August, 



spanish highways and byways. n". iii.* 



Having gained all the information I required respecting the rich 

 copper mines of Rio Tinto, on the morning of the 15th of JMa)' I 

 departed from the village of Las ]\Iinas on my return to IMadrid, a dis- 

 tance of four hundred miles. ]My horses wei-e caparisoned in the man- 

 ner I have heretofore related ; and I took care to provide myself with 

 such provision as the village afforded, to guard, as much as possible, 

 against the privations which I anticipated we should have to undergo, 

 knowing the inhospitable nature of the country through which we had 

 to travel. Pursuing our route, as we thought, according to the instruc- 

 tions of our mining friends, towards the village of Arecena, we passed 

 innumerable small shafts, from which cojoperore was extracted in former 

 days by the Romans. Whatever progress they might have made in 

 other arts, it is evident, from the remains of their workings, that of 

 mining had not occupied much of their attention. 



We now entered upon an extensive plain, covered with low under- 

 wood and dwarf trees. The path which we had to traverse, from infre- 

 quency of travelling, was in many places impeded by the growth of 

 shrubs ; and it occasionally cost us no little trouble to regain our route. 

 The whole foce of the counti'y appeared different from any part that I 

 had previously seen. It is of a singularly wild and desolate character. 

 Nothing but mountain rising above mountain, and plain after plain, was 

 presented in prospect, and all covered with this sombre and unpro- 

 fitable garb, till the eye grew tired with the eternal monotony ; and the 

 glimpse of a tree, or of a human habitation, would have been hailed 

 with delight. The return of seasons, which seems to awaken nature 

 into a second existence, is here unfelt ; and the revivifying influence of 

 the sun serves but to heighten the horrors of this dreary and apparently 

 interminable waste. Nothing can convey a better idea of the utter deso- 

 lation which seems to pervade this region, forgotten as it were by Pro- 

 vidence, than Coleridge's fine thought, in his poem of " The Ancient 

 Mariner :"— 



" So lonely 'twas, that God hiraself 

 Scarce seemed there to be !" 



The whole of this day did we wander about those wilds without 

 meeting with a human being ; when, just as night set in, we descried 

 a small village, to which Ave instantly made, and found it to be that of 

 Rio Frio, having wandered considerably out of our way. Here we took 

 up our quarters for the night in a sort of open barn, with our horse- 

 clothing for covering, and destitute of all provisions except that which 

 we had brought from the mines — which, indeed, bore but a mighty 

 insignificant proportion to the extent of our appetites. 



In the morning we were advised to go to St. OUala, and were assured 

 that there would be no danger of losing our way, the town lying in a 

 perfectly straight direction foom our present position. Encouraged by 

 these assurances, we again ventured forth, and, after wandering for 

 some hours, had the mortification to find the track we had pursued end 

 in a variety of small paths, apparently trodden by sheep or other animals. 

 All day long we journeyed in this doubtful and discouraging manner, 



• Extracted frona the Note-Book of Sir Paul Ban;hott. 



