Puerto de Arenas 



on the stone benches which surround the chimney-corner, 

 arranging our saddles and alforjas for pillows, and wrapping 

 our " martial cloaks around us." 



"Who sleep on couches hard are up betimes." 



When the dawn looked in upon the smouldering ashes of the 

 hearth, we arose, shook ourselves, fed our ponies, and 

 departed. About five miles on the road we stopped to 

 breakfast. While the ponies were feeding, I sat on the 

 village fountain, smoking in the sun. Here Vigil came for 

 a drink as he was passing. I asked him to go into our 

 Posada^ which was just opposite the fountain, and have a 

 cup of chocolate, which he accepted. Here we took leave 

 of him for good, and he thanked us for our caballeresque 

 conduct and benevolence towards him. 



The valley along which the road ran, shortly after this 

 began to straiten, till it came at last to so narrow a gorge 

 between lofty precipitous crags, that there was not room 

 for both the stream and the way. The latter was tunnelled 

 through the rock. The day was very hot, and the breeze 

 blowing through the cool cavern was delicious. Emerging 

 at the other end, the clear stream, gurgling among its rocky 

 basins, reminded us that we might at least wash our hands 

 and faces here for the first time to-day. 



'* The place seems made for the purpose ! " 



" No doubt, and specially for us." 



" Well, let this be my washhand-stand, and that 

 yours" (pointing to the two gigantic precipices on either 

 side of the stream). Having relieved ourselves of this 

 little burst of the enthusiastic egotism which belongs to 

 travellers, we washed our hands and faces at the Puerto 

 de Arenas, 



242 



