Becoming Weary Of The Slow Travelling Of The Post, I Determined To
Brave All Risk, And To Push Forward.
In this, however, I was
guilty of no slight imprudence, as by so doing I was near falling
into the hands of robbers.
Two fellows suddenly confronted me with
presented carbines, which they probably intended to discharge into
my body, but they took fright at the noise of Antonio's horse, who
was following a little way behind. The affair occurred at the
bridge of Castellanos, a spot notorious for robbery and murder, and
well adapted for both, for it stands at the bottom of a deep dell
surrounded by wild desolate hills. Only a quarter of an hour
previous I had passed three ghastly heads stuck on poles standing
by the wayside; they were those of a captain of banditti and two of
his accomplices, who had been seized and executed about two months
before. Their principal haunt was the vicinity of the bridge, and
it was their practice to cast the bodies of the murdered into the
deep black water which runs rapidly beneath. Those three heads
will always live in my remembrance, particularly that of the
captain, which stood on a higher pole than the other two: the long
hair was waving in the wind, and the blackened, distorted features
were grinning in the sun. The fellows whom I met wore the relics
of the band.
We arrived at Betanzos late in the afternoon. This town stands on
a creek at some distance from the sea, and about three leagues from
Coruna.
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