[Footnote 1: San Saturio. Saint Saturius was born, according to Tamayo, in 493. In 532 he withdrew from the world into a cave at the foot of a mountain bathed by the river Duero, near where now stands the town of Soria. There he lived about thirty-six years, or until 568, when he died and was buried by his faithful disciple St. Prudentius, later bishop of Tarazona, who had been a companion of the hermit during the last seven years of his life. His cave is still an object of pilgrimage, and a church has been built on the spot to the memory of the saint. See Florez, España Sagrada, Madrid, 1766, tomo vii, pp. 293–294.]
[Footnote 2: Soria. A mediaeval-looking town of 7296 inhabitants situated on a bleak plateau on the right bank of the Duero. It is the capital of a province of the same name. The old town of Numantia (captured by the Romans under P. Cornelius Scipio AEmilianus, 133 B.C.) lay about three miles to the north of the present site of Soria.]
[Footnote 3: Álamos. The choice of a grove of poplars as setting to the enchanted fount is peculiarly appropriate, as this tree belongs to the large list of those believed to have magical properties. In the south of Europe the poplar seems to have held sometimes the mythological place reserved in the north for the birch, and the people of Andalusia believe that the poplar is the most ancient of trees. (See de Gubernatis, Za Mythologie des plantes, Paris, Reinwald, 1882, p. 285.) In classical superstition the black poplar was consecrated to the goddess Proserpine, and the white poplar to Hercules. "The White Poplar was also dedicated to Time, because its leaves were constantly in motion, and, being dark on one side and light on the other, they were emblematic of night and day.... There is a tradition that the Cross of Christ was made of the wood of the White Poplar, and throughout Christendom there is a belief that the tree trembles and shivers mystically in sympathy with the ancestral tree which became accursed.... Mrs. Hemans, in her 'Wood Walk,' thus alludes to one of these old traditions:
FATHER.—Hast thou heard, my boy,
The peasant's legend of that quivering tree?
CHILD.—No, father; doth he say the fairies dance
Amidst its branches?
FATHER.—Oh! a cause more deep,
More solemn far, the rustic doth assign
To the strange restlessness of those wan leaves.
The Cross he deems—the blessed Cross, whereon
The meek Redeemer bow'd His head to death—
Was formed of Aspen wood; and since that hour
Through all its race the pale tree hath sent down
A thrilling consciousness, a secret awe
Making them tremulous, when not a breeze
Disturbs the airy Thistle-down, or shakes
The light lines from the shining gossamer."
Richard Folkard, Plant Lore, London, 1892, p. 503.]
Las cuencas del Moncayo[1] repitieron de eco en eco el bramido de las trompas, el latir de la jauría desencadenada y las voces de los pajes resonaron con nueva furia, y el confuso tropel de hombres, caballos y perros se dirigió al punto que Iñigo, el montero mayor de los marqueses de Almenar,[2] señalara,[3] como el más á propósito para cortarle el paso á la res.
[Footnote 1: El Moncayo. See p. 8, note 1.]
[Footnote 2: Marqueses de Almenar. A title taken doubtless from the little town of Almenar (650 inhabitants) situated in the province of Soria near the right bank of the Rituerto river, southwest of the Moncayo, and not far from that mountain.]
[Footnote 3: señalara. A relic of the Latin pluperfect (in -aram, -eram), popularly confounded with the imperfect subjunctive. Its use is now somewhat archaic, and is restricted to relative clauses. See Ramsey's Spanish Grammar, H. Holt & Co., 1902, § 944.]