Waters and observe the large stones
over which it flows; now in the proper season and in fine weather,
you cannot see those stones for the multitude of fish which cover
them."
Leaving the valley behind us, we entered into a wild and dreary
country, stony and mountainous. The day was dull and gloomy, and
all around looked sad and melancholy. "Are we in the way for Giyon
and Oviedo?" demanded Martin of an ancient female, who stood at the
door of a cottage.
"For Giyon and Oviedo!" replied the crone; "many is the weary step
you will have to make before you reach Giyon and Oviedo. You must
first of all crack the bellotas: you are just below them."
"What does she mean by cracking the bellotas?" demanded I of Martin
of Rivadeo.
"Did your worship never hear of the seven bellotas?" replied our
guide. "I can scarcely tell you what they are, as I have never
seen them; I believe they are seven hills which we have to cross,
and are called bellotas from some resemblance to acorns which it is
fancied they bear. I have often heard of these acorns, and am not
sorry that I have now an opportunity of seeing them, though it is
said that they are rather hard things for horses to digest."
The Asturian mountains in this part rise to a considerable
altitude. They consist for the most part of dark granite, covered
here and there with a thin layer of earth. They approach very near
to the sea, to which they slope down in broken ridges, between
which are deep and precipitous defiles, each with its rivulet, the
tribute of the hills to the salt flood. The road traverses these
defiles. There are seven of them, which are called, in the
language of the country, Las siete bellotas. Of all these, the
most terrible is the midmost, down which rolls an impetuous
torrent. At the upper end of it rises a precipitous wall of rock,
black as soot, to the height of several hundred yards; its top, as
we passed, was enveloped with a veil of bretima. From this gorge
branch off, on either side, small dingles or glens, some of them so
overgrown with trees and copse-wood, that the eye is unable to
penetrate the obscurity beyond a few yards.
"Fine places would some of these dingles prove for hermitages,"
said I to Martin of Rivadeo. "Holy men might lead a happy life
there on roots and water, and pass many years absorbed in heavenly
contemplation, without ever being disturbed by the noise and
turmoil of the world."
"True, your worship," replied Martin; "and perhaps on that very
account there are no hermitages in the barrancos of the seven
bellotas. Our hermits had little inclination for roots and water,
and had no kind of objection to be occasionally disturbed in their
meditations.
