It was midday when we reached the village of Finisterra, consisting of about one hundred houses, and built on the southern side of the peninsula, just before it rises into the huge bluff head which is called the Cape.We sought in vain for an inn or venta, where we might stable our beast; at one moment we thought that we had found one, and had even tied the animal to the manger.Upon our going out, however, he was instantly untied and driven forth into the street.The few people whom we saw appeared to gaze upon us in a singular manner.We, however, took little notice of these circumstances, and proceeded along the straggling street until we found shelter in the house of a Castilian shopkeeper, whom some chance had brought to this corner of Galicia, - this end of the world.Our first care was to feed the animal, who now began to exhibit considerable symptoms of fatigue.We then requested some refreshment for ourselves; and in about an hour a tolerably savoury fish, weighing about three pounds, and fresh from the bay, was prepared for us by an old woman who appeared to officiate as house-keeper.Having finished our meal, I and my uncouth companion went forth and prepared to ascend the mountain.
We stopped to examine a small dismantled fort or battery facing the bay; and whilst engaged in this examination, it more than once occurred to me that we were ourselves the objects of scrutiny and investigation: indeed I caught a glimpse of more than one countenance peering upon us through the holes and chasms of the walls.We now commenced ascending Finisterra;and making numerous and long detours, we wound our way up its flinty sides.The sun had reached the top of heaven, whence he showered upon us perpendicularly his brightest and fiercest rays.My boots were torn, my feet cut, and the perspiration streamed from my brow.To my guide, however, the ascent appeared to be neither toilsome nor difficult.The heat of the day for him had no terrors, no moisture was wrung from his tanned countenance; he drew not one short breath; and hopped upon the stones and rocks with all the provoking agility of a mountain goat.Before we had accomplished one half of the ascent, I felt myself quite exhausted.I reeled and staggered.
"Cheer up, master mine, be of good cheer, and have no care,"said the guide."Yonder I see a wall of stones; lie down beneath it in the shade." He put his long and strong arm round my waist, and though his stature compared with mine was that of a dwarf, he supported me, as if I had been a child, to a rude wall which seemed to traverse the greatest part of the hill, and served probably as a kind of boundary.It was difficult to find a shady spot: at last he perceived a small chasm, perhaps scooped by some shepherd as a couch, in which to enjoy his siesta.In this he laid me gently down, and taking off his enormous hat, commenced farming me with great assiduity.By degrees I revived, and after having rested for a considerable time, I again attempted the ascent, which, with the assistance of my guide, I at length accomplished.
We were now standing at a great altitude between two bays: the wilderness of waters before us.Of all the ten thousand barks which annually plough those seas in sight of that old cape, not one was to be descried.It was a blue shiny waste, broken by no object save the black head of a spermaceti whale, which would occasionally show itself at the top, casting up thin jets of brine.The principal bay, that of Finisterra, as far as the entrance, was beautifully variegated by an immense shoal of sardinhas, on whose extreme skirts the monster was probably feasting.From the northern side of the cape we looked down upon a smaller bay, the shore of which was overhung by rocks of various and grotesque shapes; this is called the outer bay, or, in the language of the country, PRAIA DO MAR DEFORA: a fearful place in seasons of wind and tempest, when the long swell of the Atlantic pouring in, is broken into surf and foam by the sunken rocks with which it abounds.Even in the calmest day there is a rumbling and a hollow roar in that bay which fill the heart with uneasy sensations.
On all sides there was grandeur and sublimity.After gazing from the summit of the Cape for nearly an hour we descended.
On reaching the house where we had taken up our temporary habitation, we perceived that the portal was occupied by several men, some of whom were reclining on the floor drinking wine out of small earthen pans, which are much used in this part of Galicia.With a civil salutation I passed on, and ascended the staircase to the room in which we had taken our repast.Here there was a rude and dirty bed, on which I flung myself, exhausted with fatigue.I determined to take a little repose, and in the evening to call the people of the place together, to read a few chapters of the Scripture, and then to address them with a little Christian exhortation.I was soon asleep, but my slumbers were by no means tranquil.I thought Iwas surrounded with difficulties of various kinds amongst rocks and ravines, vainly endeavouring to extricate myself; uncouth visages showed themselves amidst the trees and in the hollows, thrusting out cloven tongues and uttering angry cries.Ilooked around for my guide, but could not find him; methought, however, that I heard his voice down a deep dingle.He appeared to be talking of me.How long I might have continued in these wild dreams I know not.I was suddenly, however, seized roughly by the shoulder and nearly dragged from the bed.
I looked up in amazement, and by the light of the descending sun I beheld hanging over me a wild and uncouth figure; it was that of an elderly man, built as strong as a giant, with much beard and whiskers, and huge bushy eyebrows, dressed in the habiliments of a fisherman; in his hand was a rusty musket.
MYSELF.- Who are you and what do you want?
FIGURE.- Who I am matters but little.Get up and follow me; it is you I want.
MYSELF.- By what authority do you thus presume to interfere with me?