Ben el Medina 



kitchen floor before the fire, ate some bread and cold sar- 

 dines, and smoked a pipe ; after which a short nap. 



Roused up to go on again, in hopes of getting to Malaga 

 that night, we went along, till some fellow-travellers we 

 overtook on the road told us we must turn inland up the 

 mountains, as the rocks rose out of the water, and we could 

 not get round, the tide being high. After toiling up moun- 

 tain-roads some time, a picturesque village came in sight ; 

 and as Malaga was two or three leagues further, with bad 

 roads, and not much more daylight, and weary beasts, which 

 had been wading all day in the deep loose sand of the shore, 

 we gave up all idea of going farther. 



So we turned our ponies adrift, and sat down among the 

 rocks to sketch the village, which some passers-by told us 

 was Ben el Medina. Its church stands on a rock-ridge, the 

 village in the cleft below, and there were two convenient 

 palm-trees in the fore-ground. Harry, who is hopeless of 

 colouring, did a creditable sketch in less ambitious sepia. I 

 got tired of the village, and drew my pony, as he scrambled 

 among the aloe-spiked rocks, nibbling at the tufts of grass. 

 As the sun descended, and the peasants came flocking into 

 the village with their cattle, we joined the rout. I don't 

 think there is anything to relate about the posada more re- 

 markable than that they gave us some walnuts rather bigger 

 than hen's eggs. 



Next morning we wound over the ups and downs of the 

 mountain promontory we were crossing, till we came to a 

 village on the brow overlooking a narrow plain between the 

 hills and the sea, at the further end of which the towers of 

 Malaga appeared. This plain was shockingly muddy, and 

 there was an impassably flooded river, so we had to turn out 

 of our way to find a ferry. The Moor was much alarmed at 

 the idea of crossing, and I had to bandage his eyes with my 

 pocket-handkerchief. 



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