"This Pass," Said Martin Of Rivadeo, "Bears A Very Evil Reputation,
And I Should Not Like To Travel It After Sunset.
It is not
infested by robbers, but by things much worse, the duendes of two
friars of Saint Francis.
It is said that in the old time, long
before the convents were suppressed, two friars of the order of
Saint Francis left their convent to beg; it chanced that they were
very successful, but as they were returning at nightfall, by this
pass, they had a quarrel about what they had collected, each
insisting that he had done his duty better than the other; at last,
from high words they fell to abuse, and from abuse to blows. What
do you think these demons of friars did? They took off their
cloaks, and at the end of each they made a knot, in which they
placed a large stone, and with these they thrashed and belaboured
each other till both fell dead. Master, I know not which are the
worst plagues, friars, curates, or sparrows:
"May the Lord God preserve us from evil birds three:
From all friars and curates and sparrows that be;
For the sparrows eat up all the corn that we sow,
The friars drink down all the wine that we grow,
Whilst the curates have all the fair dames at their nod:
From these three evil curses preserve us, Lord God."
In about two hours from this time we reached Luarca, the situation
of which is most singular. It stands in a deep hollow, whose sides
are so precipitous that it is impossible to descry the town until
you stand just above it. At the northern extremity of this hollow
is a small harbour, the sea entering it by a narrow cleft. We
found a large and comfortable posada, and by the advice of Martin,
made inquiry for a fresh guide and horse; we were informed,
however, that all the horses of the place were absent, and that if
we waited for their return, we must tarry for two days. "I had a
presentiment," said Martin, "when we entered Luarca, that we were
not doomed to part at present. You must now hire my mare and me as
far as Giyon, from whence there is a conveyance to Oviedo. To tell
you the truth, I am by no means sorry that the guides are absent,
for I am pleased with your company, as I make no doubt you are with
mine. I will now go and write a letter to my wife at Rivadeo,
informing her that she must not expect to see me back for several
days." He then went out of the room singing the following stanza:
"A handless man a letter did write,
A dumb dictated it word for word:
The person who read it had lost his sight,
And deaf was he who listened and heard."
Early the next morning we emerged from the hollow of Luarca; about
an hour's riding brought us to Caneiro, a deep and romantic valley
of rocks, shaded by tall chestnut trees.
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