The foreground of this beautiful panorama was broken by innumerable small hillocks and clumps of wood of many kinds; but principally olive, pine, and cork trees, that grew on the slope of the great Sierra; and though the sky and landscape darkened fast after the sun set, we instituted a strict and angry search for Pedrillo, shouting and whistling as we stumbled on, we knew not very well whither, looking for our lost spoils—two foxes, with gallant brushes, and eight brace of birds.
No moon had risen: the wind began to whistle among the groves and hollows; the night was very dark.
"What, if we should meet Master Juan of Antequera?" said I.
"If he had our game, I should be very well pleased," replied Hall; "but I wish that Pedrillo had been with old Scratch when we hired him yesterday. If I had the little lubber on board the Blonde, I would show him the maintop."
"Spain is a land of mishaps and events," said I.
"Yesterday we were wishing for an adventure."
"And to-night we have one with a vengeance!" said I.
"Belay; I see some one moving in that hollow. Let us jump down—ahoy below there!"
"But we may lose the track," I urged.
"True; so do you remain where you are, while I go down into the hollow. Hollo now and then, to let me know your whereabouts."