And driving his ass before him he begged his master
to follow, who, feeling that Sancho was right, did
so without replying; and after proceeding some little
distance between two hills they found themselves in
a wide and retired valley, where they alighted, and
Sancho unloaded his beast, and stretched upon the
green grass, with hunger for sauce, they breakfasted,
dined, lunched, and supped all at once, satisfying
their appetites with more than one store of cold meat
which the dead man’s clerical gentlemen (who
seldom put themselves on short allowance) had brought
with them on their sumpter mule. But another piece
of ill-luck befell them, which Sancho held the worst
of all, and that was that they had no wine to drink,
nor even water to moisten their lips; and as thirst
tormented them, Sancho, observing that the meadow where
they were was full of green and tender grass, said
what will be told in the following chapter.
CHAPTER XX.
OF THE UNEXAMPLED AND UNHEARD-OF ADVENTURE WHICH WAS ACHIEVED BY THE
VALIANT DON QUIXOTE OF LA MANCHA WITH LESS PERIL THAN ANY EVER ACHIEVED
BY ANY FAMOUS KNIGHT IN THE WORLD
“It cannot be, senor, but that this grass is
a proof that there must be hard by some spring or
brook to give it moisture, so it would be well to
move a little farther on, that we may find some place
where we may quench this terrible thirst that plagues
us, which beyond a doubt is more distressing than
hunger.”
The advice seemed good to Don Quixote, and, he leading
Rocinante by the bridle and Sancho the ass by the
halter, after he had packed away upon him the remains
of the supper, they advanced the meadow feeling their
way, for the darkness of the night made it impossible
to see anything; but they had not gone two hundred
paces when a loud noise of water, as if falling from
great rocks, struck their ears. The sound cheered
them greatly; but halting to make out by listening
from what quarter it came they heard unseasonably
another noise which spoiled the satisfaction the sound
of the water gave them, especially for Sancho, who
was by nature timid and faint-hearted. They heard,
I say, strokes falling with a measured beat, and a
certain rattling of iron and chains that, together
with the furious din of the water, would have struck
terror into any heart but Don Quixote’s.
The night was, as has been said, dark, and they had
happened to reach a spot in among some tall trees,
whose leaves stirred by a gentle breeze made a low
ominous sound; so that, what with the solitude, the
place, the darkness, the noise of the water, and the
rustling of the leaves, everything inspired awe and
dread; more especially as they perceived that the
strokes did not cease, nor the wind lull, nor morning
approach; to all which might be added their ignorance
as to where they were.
