Don Quixote - Part I - Page 181/400

And so saying he gave Rocinante the spur, and Sancho followed him on foot

and loaded, and after having partly made the circuit of the mountain they

found lying in a ravine, dead and half devoured by dogs and pecked by

jackdaws, a mule saddled and bridled, all which still further

strengthened their suspicion that he who had fled was the owner of the

mule and the saddle-pad.

As they stood looking at it they heard a whistle like that of a shepherd

watching his flock, and suddenly on their left there appeared a great

number of goats and behind them on the summit of the mountain the

goatherd in charge of them, a man advanced in years. Don Quixote called

aloud to him and begged him to come down to where they stood. He shouted

in return, asking what had brought them to that spot, seldom or never

trodden except by the feet of goats, or of the wolves and other wild

beasts that roamed around. Sancho in return bade him come down, and they

would explain all to him.

The goatherd descended, and reaching the place where Don Quixote stood,

he said, "I will wager you are looking at that hack mule that lies dead

in the hollow there, and, faith, it has been lying there now these six

months; tell me, have you come upon its master about here?"

"We have come upon nobody," answered Don Quixote, "nor on anything except

a saddle-pad and a little valise that we found not far from this."

"I found it too," said the goatherd, "but I would not lift it nor go near

it for fear of some ill-luck or being charged with theft, for the devil

is crafty, and things rise up under one's feet to make one fall without

knowing why or wherefore."

"That's exactly what I say," said Sancho; "I found it too, and I would

not go within a stone's throw of it; there I left it, and there it lies

just as it was, for I don't want a dog with a bell."

"Tell me, good man," said Don Quixote, "do you know who is the owner of

this property?"

"All I can tell you," said the goatherd, "is that about six months ago,

more or less, there arrived at a shepherd's hut three leagues, perhaps,

away from this, a youth of well-bred appearance and manners, mounted on

that same mule which lies dead here, and with the same saddle-pad and

valise which you say you found and did not touch. He asked us what part

of this sierra was the most rugged and retired; we told him that it was

where we now are; and so in truth it is, for if you push on half a league

farther, perhaps you will not be able to find your way out; and I am

wondering how you have managed to come here, for there is no road or path

that leads to this spot. I say, then, that on hearing our answer the

youth turned about and made for the place we pointed out to him, leaving

us all charmed with his good looks, and wondering at his question and the

haste with which we saw him depart in the direction of the sierra; and

after that we saw him no more, until some days afterwards he crossed the

path of one of our shepherds, and without saying a word to him, came up

to him and gave him several cuffs and kicks, and then turned to the ass

with our provisions and took all the bread and cheese it carried, and

having done this made off back again into the sierra with extraordinary

swiftness. When some of us goatherds learned this we went in search of

him for about two days through the most remote portion of this sierra, at

the end of which we found him lodged in the hollow of a large thick cork

tree. He came out to meet us with great gentleness, with his dress now

torn and his face so disfigured and burned by the sun, that we hardly

recognised him but that his clothes, though torn, convinced us, from the

recollection we had of them, that he was the person we were looking for.

He saluted us courteously, and in a few well-spoken words he told us not

to wonder at seeing him going about in this guise, as it was binding upon

him in order that he might work out a penance which for his many sins had

been imposed upon him. We asked him to tell us who he was, but we were

never able to find out from him: we begged of him too, when he was in

want of food, which he could not do without, to tell us where we should

find him, as we would bring it to him with all good-will and readiness;

or if this were not to his taste, at least to come and ask it of us and

not take it by force from the shepherds. He thanked us for the offer,

begged pardon for the late assault, and promised for the future to ask it

in God's name without offering violence to anybody. As for fixed abode,

he said he had no other than that which chance offered wherever night

might overtake him; and his words ended in an outburst of weeping so

bitter that we who listened to him must have been very stones had we not

joined him in it, comparing what we saw of him the first time with what

we saw now; for, as I said, he was a graceful and gracious youth, and in

his courteous and polished language showed himself to be of good birth

and courtly breeding, and rustics as we were that listened to him, even

to our rusticity his gentle bearing sufficed to make it plain.