Behind Caltanisetta, the hill subsided suddenly into many little valleys, all of which pour their streams into the river Salso. The soil here is reddish and very loamy; much of it unworked; what was in cultivation bore tolerably good crops, though inferior to what we had elsewhere seen.
Castro Giovanni, Sunday, April 29, 1787.
To-day we had to observe still greater fertility and want of population. Heavy rains had fallen, which made travelling anything but pleasant, as we had to pass through many streams, which were swollen and rapid. At the Salso, where one looks round in vain for a bridge, I was struck with a very singular arrangement for passing the ford. Strong powerful men were waiting at the river-side; of these two placed themselves on each side of a mule, and conducted him, rider, baggage and all, through the deep part of the river, till they reach a great bank of gravel in the middle; when the whole of the travellers have arrived at this spot, they are again conducted in the same manner through the second arm of the stream, while the fellows, by pushing and shoving, keep the animal in the right tract, and support him against the current.
On the water-side I observed bushes, which, however, do not spread far into the land. The Salso washes down rubbles of granite—a transition of the gneiss, and marble, both breccian and also of a single colour.
We now saw before us the isolated mountain ridge on which Castro Giovanni is situate, and which imparts to the country about it a grave and singular character. As we rode up the long road which traverses its side, we found that the rock consisted of muschelkalk; large calcined shells being huddled together in heaps. You do not see Castro Giovanni until you reach the very summit of the ridge, for it lies on the northern declivity of the mountain. The singular little town, with its tower, and the village of Caltaseibetta, at a little distance on the left, stand, as it were, solemnly gazing at each other. In the plains we saw the bean in full blossom; but who is there that could take pleasure in such a sight? The roads here were horrible, and the more so because they once were paved, and it rained incessantly. The ancient Enna received us most inhospitably,—a room with a paved floor, with shutters and no window, so that we must either sit in darkness or be again exposed to the beating rain, from which we had thought to escape by putting up here. Some relics of our travelling provisions were greedily devoured; and the night passed most miserably. We made a solemn vow never to direct our course again towards never so mythological a name.
Monday, April 30, 1787.
The road leading from Castro Giovanni was so rough and bad, that we were obliged to lead our horses down it. The sky before us was covered with thick and low clouds, while high above them a singular phenomenon was observable. It was striped white and grey, and seemed to be something corporeal; but how could aught corporeal get into the sky? Our guide enlightened us. This subject of our amazement was a side of Mount Ætna, which appeared through the opening clouds. Snow alternating with the crags formed the stripes—it was not, however, the highest peak that we saw.
Sicily—Castro Giovanni.