For a moment I was awe-struck like the rest. Only a moment. A sudden memory flashed upon me. I thought of the Hartz Mountains and their demons. I knew that the phenomenon before us could be no other; an optical delusion; a creation of the mirage.
I raised my hand above my head. The foremost of the giants imitated the motion.
I put spurs to my horse and galloped forward. So did he, as if to meet me. After a few springs I had passed the refracting angle, and, like a thought, the shadowy giants vanished into the air.
The men had ridden forward after me, and having also passed the angle of refraction saw no more of the phantom host.
The city, too, had disappeared; but we could trace the outlines of many a singular formation in the trap-rock strata that traversed the edge of the valley.
The tall groves were no longer to be seen; but a low belt of green willows, real willows, could be distinguished along the foot of the mountain within the gap. Under their foliage there was something that sparkled in the sun like sheets of silver. It was water! It was a branch of the Prieto.
Our horses neighed at the sight; and, shortly after, we had alighted upon its banks, and were kneeling before the sweet spirit of the stream.