At length they came to a part of the mountain completely broken up
by barrancos and ramblas of vast depth and shagged with rocks and
precipices. It was impossible to maintain the order of march; the
horses had no room for action, and were scarcely manageable, having
to scramble from rock to rock and up and down frightful declivities
where there was scarce footing for a mountain-goat. Passing by a
burning village, the light of the flames revealed their perplexed
situation. The Moors, who had taken refuge in a watch-tower on an
impending height, shouted with exultation when they looked down
upon these glistening cavaliers struggling and stumbling among
the rocks. Sallying forth from their tower, they took possession of
the cliffs which overhung the ravine and hurled darts and stones
upon the enemy. It was with the utmost grief of heart that the good
master of Santiago beheld his brave men falling like helpless victims
around him, without the means of resistance or revenge. The
confusion of his followers was increased by the shouts of the Moors
multiplied by the echoes of every crag and cliff, as if they were
surrounded by innumerable foes. Being entirely ignorant of the
country, in their struggles to extricate themselves they plunged
into other glens and defiles, where they were still more exposed
to danger. In this extremity the master of Santiago despatched
messengers in search of succor. The marques of Cadiz, like a loyal
companion-in-arms, hastened to his aid with his cavalry: his approach
checked the assaults of the enemy, and the master was at length
enabled to extricate his troops from the defile.

In the mean time, Don Alonso de Aguilar and his companions, in their
eager advance, had likewise got entangled in deep glens and the
dry beds of torrents, where they had been severely galled by the
insulting attacks of a handful of Moorish peasants posted on the