Roderick Dhu 



be upon our track, leaving Moron, we inquired for Saucejo, 

 and set off by the map and the sun's guidance for Olvera, 

 which lies in the contrary direction. We left the Rosa 

 Spur to the right, and plunged into the heart of the 

 hills. After winding in and out and up and down rugged, 

 and, in places, almost impassable roads, which in the 

 metaphoric idiom of the country are called caminos de 

 perdices^^ freely translated " paths to perdition," we found 

 ourselves in a wild, solitary, picturesque valley, where it 

 was often difficult to distinguish the way from the bed of 

 the rivulet by which it ran. 



As we were threading our way with cautious steps, among 

 the boulder stones, we saw a cloaked horseman overtaking 

 us. As he came near we saw he had an escopet slung 

 behind his saddle. We immediately settled that he was the 

 Roderick Dhu of a numerous band, and expected him as he 

 approached to blow his bugle and raise a crop of bristling 

 muskets from the thick brushwood which surrounded us. 



He turned out, on nearer inspection, to be an amiable 

 young squire who was riding to overlook a farm of his 

 father's, called "La Gallina," after which this beautiful 

 valley was named. I gave him a cigar and his heart 

 opened. He praised our ponies, and pressed us to bait 

 our horses ■ and descansar (untire) ourselves at his farm. 

 I o;ot him to tell me the names of the various beautiful 

 and fragrant shrubs which clothed the vale and scented 

 the gale ; a whole family of barbarous Arabic botanical 

 names, such as retama, lantico^ lechera^ tomillo^ aelfa^ &c., 

 which I took down in my pocket-book, with notes for 

 subsequent descriptive scenery. 



Our friend turned off to his farm, where the valley 

 widened and a grassy knoll was dotted with park-like 



' Partridge roads. 

 141 



