"This is a fine house, mother of the gypsies," said I to the hag, willing to gratify the desire she had expressed of hearing me speak; "a fine house is this of yours, rather cold and damp, though; it appears large enough to be a barrack for hundunares.""Plenty of houses in this foros, plenty of houses in Merida, my London Caloro, some of them just as they were left by the Corahanoes; ah, a fine people are the Corahanoes; Ioften wish myself in their chim once more.""How is this, mother," said I, "have you been in the land of the Moors?""Twice have I been in their country, my Caloro, - twice have I been in the land of the Corahai; the first time is more than fifty years ago, I was then with the Sese (SPANIARDS), for my husband was a soldier of the Crallis of Spain, and Oran at that time belonged to Spain.""You were not then with the real Moors," said I, "but only with the Spaniards who occupied part of their country.""I have been with the real Moors, my London Caloro.Who knows more of the real Moors than myself? About forty years ago I was with my ro in Ceuta, for he was still a soldier of the king, and he said to me one day, `I am tired of this place where there is no bread and less water, I will escape and turn Corahano; this night I will kill my sergeant and flee to the camp of the Moor.' `Do so,' said I, `my chabo, and as soon as may be I will follow you and become a Corahani.' That same night he killed his sergeant, who five years before had called him Calo and cursed him, then running to the wall he dropped from it, and amidst many shots he escaped to the land of the Corahai, as for myself, I remained in the presidio of Ceuta as a suttler, selling wine and repani to the soldiers.Two years passed by and I neither saw nor heard from my ro; one day there came a strange man to my cachimani (WINE-SHOP), he was dressed like a Corahano, and yet he did not look like one, he looked like more a callardo (BLACK), and yet he was not a callardo either, though he was almost black, and as I looked upon him Ithought he looked something like the Errate, and he said to me, `Zincali; chachipe!' and then he whispered to me in queer language, which I could scarcely understand, `Your ro is waiting, come with me, my little sister, and I will take you unto him.' `Where is he?' said I, and he pointed to the west, to the land of the Corahai, and said, `He is yonder away; come with me, little sister, the ro is waiting.' For a moment I was afraid, but I bethought me of my husband and I wished to be amongst the Corahai; so I took the little parne (MONEY) I had, and locking up the cachimani went with the strange man; the sentinel challenged us at the gate, but I gave him repani (BRANDY) and he let us pass; in a moment we were in the land of the Corahai.About a league from the town beneath a hill we found four people, men and women, all very black like the strange man, and we joined ourselves with them and they all saluted me and called me little sister.That was all Iunderstood of their discourse, which was very crabbed; and they took away my dress and gave me other clothes, and I looked like a Corahani, and away we marched for many days amidst deserts and small villages, and more than once it seemed to me that Iwas amongst the Errate, for their ways were the same: the men would hokkawar (CHEAT) with mules and asses, and the women told baji, and after many days we came before a large town, and the black man said, `Go in there, little sister, and there you will find your ro;' and I went to the gate, and an armed Corahano stood within the gate, and I looked in his face, and lo! it was my ro.
"O what a strange town it was that I found myself in, full of people who had once been Candore (CHRISTIANS) but had renegaded and become Corahai.There were Sese and Lalore (PORTUGUESE), and men of other nations, and amongst them were some of the Errate from my own country; all were now soldiers of the Crallis of the Corahai and followed him to his wars; and in that town I remained with my ro a long time, occasionally going out with him to the wars, and I often asked him about the black men who had brought me thither, and he told me that he had had dealings with them, and that he believed them to be of the Errate.Well, brother, to be short, my ro was killed in the wars, before a town to which the king of the Corahai laid siege, and I became a piuli (WIDOW), and I returned to the village of the renegades, as it was called, and supported myself as well as I could; and one day as I was sitting weeping, the black man, whom I had never seen since the day he brought me to my ro, again stood before me, and he said, `Come with me, little sister, come with me, the ro is at hand'; and Iwent with him, and beyond the gate in the desert was the same party of black men and women which I had seen before.`Where is my ro?' said I.`Here he is, little sister,' said the black man, `here he is; from this day I am the ro and you the romi;come, let us go, for there is business to be done.'
"And I went with him, and he was my ro, and we lived amongst the deserts, and hokkawar'd and choried and told baji;and I said to myself, this is good, sure I am amongst the Errate in a better chim than my own; and I often said that they were of the Errate, and then they would laugh and say that it might be so, and that they were not Corahai, but they could give no account of themselves.
"Well, things went on in this way for years, and I had three chai by the black man, two of them died, but the youngest, who is the Calli who sits by the brasero, was spared;so we roamed about and choried and told baji; and it came to pass that once in the winter time our company attempted to pass a wide and deep river, of which there are many in the Chim del Corahai, and the boat overset with the rapidity of the current and all our people were drowned, all but myself and my chabi, whom I bore in my bosom.I had now no friends amongst the Corahai, and I wandered about the despoblados howling and lamenting till I became half lili (MAD), and in this manner Ifound my way to the coast, where I made friends with the captain of a ship and returned to this land of Spain.And now I am here, I often wish myself back again amongst the Corahai."Here she commenced laughing loud and long, and when she had ceased, her daughter and grandchild took up the laugh, which they continued so long that I concluded they were all lunatics.
Hour succeeded hour, and still we sat crouching over the brasero, from which, by this time, all warmth had departed; the glow had long since disappeared, and only a few dying sparks were to be distinguished.The room or hall was now involved in utter darkness; the women were motionless and still; I shivered and began to feel uneasy."Will Antonio be here to-night?" at length I demanded.
"NO TENGA USTED CUIDAO, my London Caloro," said the Gypsy mother, in an unearthly tone; "Pepindorio * has been here some time."* THE Gypsy word for Antonio.
I was about to rise from my seat and attempt to escape from the house, when I felt a hand laid upon my shoulder, and in a moment I heard the voice of Antonio.
"Be not afraid, `tis I, brother; we will have a light anon, and then supper."The supper was rude enough, consisting of bread, cheese, and olives.Antonio, however, produced a leathern bottle of excellent wine; we despatched these viands by the light of an earthen lamp which was placed upon the floor.
"Now," said Antonio to the youngest female, "bring me the pajandi, and I will sing a gachapla."The girl brought the guitar, which, with some difficulty, the Gypsy tuned, and then strumming it vigorously, he sang:
"I stole a plump and bonny fowl, But ere I well had dined, The master came with scowl and growl, And me would captive bind.
"My hat and mantle off I threw, And scour'd across the lea, Then cried the beng * with loud halloo, Where does the Gypsy flee?"* Devil.
He continued playing and singing for a considerable time, the two younger females dancing in the meanwhile with unwearied diligence, whilst the aged mother occasionally snapped her fingers or beat time on the ground with her stick.At last Antonio suddenly laid down the instrument:-"I see the London Caloro is weary; enough, enough, to-morrow more thereof - we will now to the charipe (BED).""With all my heart," said I; "where are we to sleep?""In the stable," said he, "in the manger; however cold the stable may be we shall be warm enough in the bufa."
