“I wonder if that is so,” said Sancho.
“Certainly,” answered his master. “In all the books that I have read, enchanters are forever doing such things. If a knight happens to be in danger, there is sometimes only one other knight that can rescue him. So a boat is provided for that other knight, and, in the twinkling of an eye, he is whisked away to the scene of trouble, even though it be two or three thousand leagues.”
“That is wonderful,” said Sancho.
“Most assuredly,” answered Don Quixote; “and it is for just such a purpose that this enchanted bark lies here. Therefore let us leave our steeds here in the shade and embark in it.”
“Well, well,” said Sancho, “since you are the master, I must obey. But I tell you this is no enchanted bark. It is some fisherman’s boat.”
“They are usually fishermen’s boats,” said Don Quixote. “So, let us begin our voyage without delay.”
He leaped into the little vessel. Sancho followed, and untied the rope. The boat drifted slowly out into the stream.
When Sancho saw that they were out of reach of the shore and had no means of pushing back, he began to quake with fear.
“We shall never see our noble steeds again,” he cried. “Hear how the poor donkey brays and moans because we are leaving him. See how Rozinante tugs at his bridle. Oh, my poor, dear friends, good-by!”
Then he began such a moaning and howling that Don Quixote lost all patience with him.