We were now in the Asturias, and about noon we reached Navias, a small fishing town, situate on a ria or firth; in the neighbourhood are ragged mountains, called the Sierra de Buron, which stand in the shape of a semi-circle.We saw a small vessel in the harbour, which we subsequently learned was from the Basque provinces, come for a cargo of cider or sagadua, the beverage so dearly loved by the Basques.As we passed along the narrow street, Antonio was hailed with an "Ola" from a species of shop in which three men, apparently shoemakers, were seated.He stopped for some time to converse with them, and when he joined us at the posada where we halted, I asked him who they were: "Mon maitre," said he, "CE SONT DES MESSIEURS DEMA CONNOISSANCE.I have been fellow servant at different times with all three; and I tell you beforehand, that we shall scarcely pass through a village in this country where I shall not find an acquaintance.All the Asturians, at some period of their lives, make a journey to Madrid, where, if they can obtain a situation, they remain until they have scraped up sufficient to turn to advantage in their own country; and as Ihave served in all the great houses in Madrid, I am acquainted with the greatest part of them.I have nothing to say against the Asturians, save that they are close and penurious whilst at service; but they are not thieves, neither at home nor abroad, and though we must have our wits about us in their country, Ihave heard we may travel from one end of it to the other without the slightest fear of being either robbed or ill treated, which is not the case in Galicia, where we were always in danger of having our throats cut."Leaving Navias, we proceeded through a wild desolate country, till we reached the pass of Baralla, which lies up the side of a huge wall of rocks, which at a distance appear of a light green colour, though perfectly bare of herbage or plants of any description.
"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 Iam 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.
Through the midst of this valley rushes a rapid stream, which we crossed in a boat."There is not such a stream for trout in all the Asturias," said the ferryman; "look down into the 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 Iof Martin of Rivadeo.