The Moor puts his Foot in it 



" Come along, my son, since it is evident that these 

 cahalleros neither know their way, nor where they wish to 

 go, — let us continue our day's work ! " 



So we took the by-path, which proved very circuitous 

 and stony, winding among vineyards and olive-groves along 

 the brow of a hill, till it descended to El Marmol,^ in the 

 valley. This, so far from being a city of marble palaces, as 

 its name would suggest, was a miserable little village, which 

 had no posada. We managed, however, to purchase some 

 barley at a private house, and stood in the porch while our 

 beasts picked a little of the corn out of the flat matting 

 basket. They were neither of them hungry, and the Moor 

 was pertinaciously determined to put his foot in it instead 

 of his nose, and would snufF, and nibble, and twitch at the 

 rim of the basket ; and if by any accident he did get a 

 mouthful of corn, he was sure to lift up his head out of the 

 extempore manger, and scatter most of it in the street. As 

 it was raining, and we were stopping merely for their ad- 

 vantage, you may be sure we gave our refractory beasts 

 several severe reprimands ; but to no purpose ; we could 

 not persuade them to be hungry, nor inform them they 

 would not have another chance till evening. 



Here they told us that Vilche was out of our way, and 

 that Las Navas was the shortest cut to San Esteban, where 

 we proposed to sleep. On our way along this weary cross- 

 country road we overtook a farmer, who seemed suspicious 

 of us at first ; but was reassured of our respectability on 

 hearing we were Englishmen. He said he wondered we 

 were not afraid to travel alone in a strange country. We 

 asked him what there was to be afraid of, telling him we 

 had ten pistol-barrels between us. We had not made this 



' Written El Marnal in the map, but called El Marmol by the 

 people. 



