one Geologists say that the ancient battlefield of Menda ② was in the Bastuli-Boni area ③, located about 8 kilometers north of Marbella ④, close to the present-day Munda ⑤, I always suspect that they are not Know what you are talking about.Based on my guesses from the contents of the "Spanish War" by Anonymous, and a little information from the valuable collection of the Duke of Osuna, I think that this memorable place should be found near Montilla. , Caesar once put all his eggs in one basket to fight to the death with the defenders of the Republic⑧. In the early autumn of 1830, I happened to be in Andalusia, and made a rather long excursion in order to clear up the remaining doubts.I hope that a scholarly paper I am about to publish will clear up any doubts that well-meaning archaeologists may have had.However, before my dissertation solves this geographical problem that troubles scholars all over Europe, I would like to tell you a little story, which will not prevent us from judging the interesting question of where Menda is located.

-------- ①The inscription is a poem passed down to the present by the Greek writer Palazzo in the 5th century; the original text is Greek. ②Menda, an ancient Spanish city, where Caesar led an army to fight Pompey's two sons in 45 BC, so it is famous as the Menda Battlefield. ③Bastulli-Pony is a province in ancient Spain, where the Phoenician Basturi tribe once settled. ④ Marbella, a city in Andalusia in southern Spain. ⑤ Munda, 30 kilometers southwest of Malaga, Spain. ⑥ "Spanish War", a work of an unknown officer of the Roman army that has been handed down to this day, is a precious material about Caesar's expedition to Spain.

⑦The Duke of Osuna (1579-1624), a Spanish politician, collected a large number of rare books and manuscripts of ancient Greek, Roman and European writers at that time. After his death, most of the books were kept in the Buenos Aires Municipal Library. ⑧The two sons of Pompey led the army to fight against Caesar's army near Menda. The terrain was not good for Caesar. Caesar fought desperately and finally won. ⑨This paper was not written. I hired a guide and two horses at Cordoba, and set off.All I have is a copy of Caesar's "Memoirs" and a few shirts.One day, I was running around on the high ground of the Gassena Plain, so thirsty and tired, the sun was scorching, and I wanted to send the two sons of Caesar and Pompey to hell. At this time, Suddenly I noticed that quite some distance from the path I was on, there was a small green meadow, with rushes and reeds growing here and there here and there.This tells me there is a spring nearby.Sure enough, when I took a closer look, what I thought was grass was actually a swamp.A small stream, which seemed to flow from a narrow channel between two very high spurs of the Cabra range, disappeared in a swamp.I therefore concluded that, if one traced the creek to its source, one would surely find cooler water, less inhabited by leeches and frogs, or shady resting places among the rocks.As soon as I entered the channel, my horse neighed, and another horse, which I couldn't see, immediately responded.I had not gone a hundred paces, when the channel opened up, and presented before me a natural amphitheater-like space, surrounded by steep mountains, which completely shaded the space.For travelers, there is no better place to rest than here.At the foot of the upright rock, the spring gushed forth and poured straight into a small pool, the bottom of which was covered with sand as white as snow.Five or six tall green oaks, sheltered from the wind all the year round and fed by the springs, stood upright by the edge of the pool, and shaded it with their thick shadows.There is a patch of fine, oily grass growing around the pool for sleeping in. There are no better beds in any hotel within a radius of 40 kilometers.

-------- ① Cordoba, a city in Andalusia in southern Spain. I can't boast enough of myself to have discovered this quaint place.A man was already resting there, and he must have fallen asleep when I entered.The neighing of the horse woke him up, and he stood up and walked to his horse, but the animal had already eaten a full meal of the nearby grass while its master was sleeping.The man was a stout young man, of medium height, with a strong-looking appearance and dark, haughty eyes.His complexion, which might have been beautiful, had grown darker than his hair from the sun.He held the horse's bridle in one hand, and in the other he held a blunderbuss.I confess that at first I was a little taken aback by the gun and the menacing appearance of its bearer; but I have heard so much about robbers, but never met them, that I no longer believe in any robbers.What's more, I have seen many honest peasants armed to the teeth to go to the market, so seeing a weapon that doesn't work makes me doubt the moral character of this stranger. —And, I thought, what was the use of my shirt and my Elxavier edition of Memoirs?So I nodded casually to the man with the gun, and asked him with a smile if I had disturbed his sleep.He did not answer me, but looked me over from head to toe; then, as if satisfied with his inspection, he looked over my approaching guide in the same way.The guide suddenly turned pale and stood still, evidently terrified.I thought to myself: "It's bad, I've run into a bad guy!" But for the sake of caution, I immediately decided to keep my face down.I dismounted, asked the guide to unsaddle the saddle, knelt down by the spring, and dipped my head and hands in it, and fell on the ground, like Gideon's impotent soldiers, and drank a swig of water.

-------- ①Elzewier was a famous Dutch publisher from the 16th to the 17th century. The books he published were characterized by smaller format. ②According to the records of "Bible Judges", God told Gideon, the commander of Israel, to test his soldiers before going out to attack the Midianites: ordering them to drink the water of the lake.Those who crawled on the ground like dogs and licked the water to drink, God thought they were bad soldiers, and ordered them to be released home; later, 300 soldiers drank water with their hands, and God gave this team to defeat the enemy. Then I watched my guide and the stranger carefully.The guide seemed to be approaching with great reluctance; the stranger seemed harmless to us, for he had let go of his horse, and the blunderbuss in his hand turned out to be flat.The muzzle is now pointing down.

I figured I shouldn't be mad at people disrespecting me, just laying on the grass and casually asking the guy with the gun if he had a flint.Meanwhile I got out my cigar-case.The stranger remained silent for a while, groping in his pocket for a while, took out his flint, and hastily lit a fire for me.Obviously, he has become kinder now, and actually sat down across from me, but the gun in his hand has not been put down.After my cigars were lit, I chose the best one that was left and asked him if he smoked it. "Smoking, sir," he replied. This was the first sentence I heard him say, and I noticed that he did not pronounce the S sound like the Andalusians,1 so I concluded that he was a traveler like me, but not an archaeologist like me. scientist.

-------- ①The Andalusian S is pronounced from the throat, which is no different from the soft C and Z sounds; the Spaniards pronounce the latter two sounds like the English th.So as long as you hear the pronunciation of the word "Senor", you can identify an Andalusian. ——Original note. "You'll find this one a good one," I told him as I handed him a real medium-sized Havana. -------- ①This is the best kind of cigar at that time. He gave me a slight nod, lit his cigar with mine, gave me another nod of thanks, and smoked with great pleasure. "Ah!" He sighed, and at the same time slowly exhaled the first puff of cigarette from his mouth and nostrils, "I haven't smoked for a long time!"

In Spain, if you give someone a cigar and they accept it, friendship can be established, just like sharing bread and salt in the East.To my surprise, this man was very talkative.But although he claimed to be a resident of Montilla District, he seemed not very familiar with this place.He didn't even know the name of the lovely valley we were in; he couldn't name any of the villages around here; stones, he confessed honestly that he had never paid attention to such things.On the other hand, he showed a great deal of research on horses.He criticized my horse, which was not too difficult; then he told me the lineage of his horse, which came from a well-known Cordoba stud.This is indeed a famous stallion. According to its owner, it is very strong and hardworking. Once it ran 120 kilometers in one day, either galloping or galloping.When the strange man was eloquently talking vigorously, he suddenly stopped, as if he was surprised that he talked too much and was a little dissatisfied with himself. — "It's because I'm in a hurry to get to Cordoba," he went on, looking a little embarrassed, "I have a case to appeal to the judges..." As he spoke, he looked at my guide Antonio. , the wizard immediately lowered his eyelids.

The shade and spring water so delighted my soul, that I was reminded of the delicious pieces of ham my friends at Montilla used to keep in my guide's bag.I called the guide to bring out the ham, and at the same time invited the stranger to my impromptu meal.If he hadn't smoked for a long time, the way he ate made me think he hadn't eaten for at least 48 hours.He was literally gobbling it up.I thought, God bless the poor man to have met me.My guide ate very little, drank even less, and never groaned.Although at the beginning of my trip, I found him to be an unrivaled talkative person.The presence of a guest seemed to make him uncomfortable, and some sense of mutual distrust separated them, though I could not guess exactly why.

The last slices of bread and ham were gone; we each smoked another cigar; and I ordered my guide to put on the harness, and was about to say good-bye to my new friend, when he asked me where I intended to pass the night. The guide gave me a wink, and before I had time to notice it, I replied that I was going to stay at the Cuervaux Inn. -------- ①The inn here is Venta in Spanish, which refers to a lonely inn. If it is on the side of the main road, it is still a lively place; if it is on the side of a remote road, it is a dangerous place for robbery or murder. "A character like you, sir, that's a terrible place... I want to go too, and we can go together if you will allow me to accompany you."

"Very willing," I said as I mounted my horse. The guide held the stirrup for me and gave me another wink.I shrugged my shoulders in reply, as if to reassure him, and off we went. Antonio's mysterious glances, his uneasiness, the occasional words from a strange man, especially the 120 kilometers he rode in one breath, and his unreasonable explanation for this matter are already in my mind form my opinion of my traveling companion.I have no doubt that the man with whom I have dealings is a smuggler, or a robber; but what does it matter to me?I am well acquainted with the character of Spaniards, and I can feel safe and need not be afraid of a man with whom I have eaten and smoked.Having him together can guarantee that there will be no other bad guys on the road.Besides, I'm glad to know what kind of a robber is, because robbers don't come across every day.It is charming in itself to be with a dangerous person, and it is even more delightful when you find that dangerous person is gentle and docile. I was tempted to slowly lead this strange man to speak the truth to me, and in spite of my guide's incessant winks, I directed the conversation to some thugs.Of course, I speak of them respectfully.At that time, there was a famous thief in Andalusia named José Maria, whose deeds were widely talked about.I thought: "Would I be walking with José Maria?..." So I told the story of this hero, of course all in praise of him, and I expressed my utmost respect for his bravery and generosity worship. "Jose-Maria is just a clown," said the strange man coldly. I secretly thought: "Is he being fair to himself, or is he being too modest?" Because the more I looked at this companion, the more I felt that he fit the characteristics of José-María, who I lived in Andalusia. These features have been seen on arrest notices at many city gates. —"Exactly, it must be him . The horse... without a doubt! But since he is anonymous, I'll respect his secrecy." We arrived at the inn.The inn was just as he described it, the worst place I've ever been.A large room served as kitchen, dining room and bedroom.A fire was lit on a flat flagstone in the middle of the room, and the smoke came out through a hole open in the roof, or rather the smoke had settled there, forming a cloud a few feet above the ground.On the floor along the wall were five or six old donkey skins, which were used as beds for travelers.About twenty paces from this room--or rather from the only house I have just described-- there is an open shed, which could be regarded as a stable. In this lovely boarding-house there lived no one else, at least for the time being, but an old woman and a girl of ten or twelve; both were as black as coal, and their clothes were in rags. —"This is what descends from the inhabitants of ancient Menda-Batiga!" thought I, "O Caesar! O Saxtis Pompey! If you come back to this world, How surprised you will be!" The old woman could not restrain a cry of surprise when she saw my traveling companion. — "Ah! Master Don Jose!" she cried. Don Jose frowned and raised his hands majesticly, the old woman immediately shut her mouth.I turned around and secretly gave my guide a signal to make him understand: I don't need to bother him to tell me about the life experience of my partner who sleeps with me tonight.Dinner was much better than I expected.On a small table more than one foot high, first there is a pot of braised old chicken nugget risotto with a lot of peppers in it; then a pot of oily peppers; Salad made of chili.The 3 pots with chilli forced us to resort endlessly to skins of Montilla wine which was very tasty.After dinner I saw a mandolin hanging on the wall—there are mandolins everywhere in Spain—and I asked the little girl who served us if she could play. -------- ①Gaspacho is actually a cold soup with onions, garlic, cucumbers, tomatoes, peppers, oil and slices of bread. "I can't," she answered, "but Don Jose plays very well!" "Then," I said to Don José, "can you please sing me a song, I love your folk music very much." "I cannot refuse such a gentleman as you, who have offered me such an expensive cigar," cried Don José with great joy.He asked the little girl to hand him the piano, and began to play and sing by himself.His voice was rough, but very melodious, and the melody was melancholy and eccentric, but I didn't understand a word of the lyrics. "If I'm not mistaken," I said to him, "you're not singing a Spanish tune, but something like the 'Solsico' I've heard in the privileged province, probably in Basque." .” "You are right," Don José replied with a gloomy air.He put the mandolin on the ground, folded his arms, and began to gaze at the dying fire with an oddly sad expression on his face.A lamp on a little table illuminated his noble and fierce face, reminding me of Satan in Milton's poem.Perhaps my traveling companion, like Satan, was nostalgic for the paradise he had lost, and for the exile he had stumbled upon.I would have liked to revive our conversation, but he made no answer, and was lost in his mournful musings.The old woman hung a ragged quilt with a cord, and covered a corner of the room, where she lay down and slept.The little girl followed her into the corner reserved for women.My guide then got up and told me to follow him to the stables; Don José started up at this and asked him in a rough voice where he was going. -------- ① Privileged provinces refer to provinces enjoying special rights, that is, Álava, Biscay, Gupsqua and part of Navarra.The language used is Basque. ——Original note. ② Solcico is a Basque national dance, usually accompanied by music and chorus. ③ Milton (1608-1674), a British poet, wrote a long poem describing that Satan was demoted to the world because he opposed God, but he still couldn't forget to defeat God one day. "To the stables," replied the guide. "What are you going to do? There are plenty of horses to eat. Sleep here, sir. I won't blame you." "I'm afraid that Mr.'s horse is sick. I want to ask Mr. to take a look. Maybe Mr. knows what to do." It was obvious that Antonio wanted to speak to me alone; but I did not wish to arouse Don José's suspicions, and in the circumstances I thought it best to place absolute confidence in him.So I told Antonio that I knew nothing about horses, and that I wanted to sleep.Don José followed Antonio to the stables, and he returned a little later alone.He told me the horse was nothing, but that my guide valued the animal, and rubbed it with his coat to make him sweat;At this time, I was lying on the donkey skin blanket, wrapping my body tightly with the cloak, for fear of touching the blanket.Don José begged me to forgive him for daring to sleep in the same place as me, and then he lay down by the door; before he lay down, he did not forget to load the sniper and put it under the saddlebag he used as a pillow. Five minutes after we said good night to each other, we both fell asleep. I thought I must be quite tired, or I should not have fallen asleep in a house like this; but after an hour, I was aroused from sleep by a very itchy feeling.As soon as I had ascertained the nature of the itching, I got up, thinking that I would be better off spending the rest of the night in the open air than in this inhospitable house.I tiptoed to the door and stepped over Don Jose.He was sound asleep, and I moved so lightly that he didn't wake up when I walked out of the house.Near the door was a broad bench; I lay down and settled down as comfortably as I could to pass the rest of the night.Just as I was about to close my eyes for the second time, I suddenly felt as if the shadows of a person and a horse walked past me without a sound.I sat up and recognized Antonio.It amazed me that he came out of the stable at such a moment. I stood up and walked over to him.He saw me immediately and stopped. "Where is he?" Antonio asked me in a low voice. "At the inn, he fell asleep. He's not afraid of bugs. Why did you bring the horse out?" Then I noticed that Antonio was carefully wrapping scraps of an old blanket over the horse's hooves so as not to make a noise when he came out of the stable. "Sir, please speak in a low voice!" Antonio said to me, "you don't know who this man is. He is José Navarro, the most famous thief in Andalusia. I have given you a lot all day. Hint, you always pretend not to see." "What does it matter to me whether a thief is a thief or not?" I answered. "He hasn't stolen from us, and I'll bet he hasn't even thought of it." "That's all right; but whoever denounces him will get two hundred digas. There is a Lancer camp six kilometers from here, and I can bring some strong men before daylight. I wanted to take his horse. Go, but the beast is so fierce that no one can get near it except Navarro." -------- ① Tiga, gold or silver coins, gold coins are worth 10 to 12 francs each, and the value of silver coins is halved. "Damn you!" I said to him. "What has this poor fellow offended you, and you are going to report him? Besides, are you sure he is the robber you speak of?" "Quite sure; he followed me to the stable just now and said to me: 'You seem to know me, and if you tell that good gentleman who I am, I'll blow your brains out.' Sir, you stay Here, stay with him, don't be afraid. As long as he knows you're here, he won't be suspicious. " As we walked, we said that we were quite far away from the inn, and we were not afraid that others would hear the sound of horseshoes.In an instant Antonio pulled off the rags that bound the horse's feet, and was ready to mount; I begged and threatened to keep him. "I'm a pauper, sir," he said to me; "with two hundred digas, it's a great opportunity, especially if it will save the country. But be careful, if Navarro wakes up, he will jump." Get up and grab his blunderbuss, then you'll have to be careful! Me, I've gone too far to quit; do your best to deal with it yourself." The rascal mounted his horse, pinned it, and soon disappeared into the darkness. I was very angry and somewhat disturbed by the behavior of the guide.After thinking about it for a while, I decided to go back to the inn.Don José was still fast asleep, no doubt tired and drowsy after days of adventure, and now was the time to make up for it.I had to jerk him awake.I will never forget the fierce look in his eyes and the way he grabbed the gun when he woke up; I had moved his gun a good distance away from his sleeping place as a precaution. "Sir," I said to him, "forgive me for waking you; but I have a silly question for you: would you like to see half a dozen Uhlans here?" He jumped up and asked in a terrible voice: "Who told you this?" "As long as the warning works, it doesn't matter where it comes from." "Your guide betrayed me, and I must settle the debt with him. Where is he now?" "I don't know . . . in the stables, I think . . . but someone told me . . . " "Who told you? . . . perhaps the old woman . . . " "A man I don't know... Don't gossip, answer me, yes or no, would you like to wait for the soldiers here? If not, then please don't waste time; otherwise, good night, please Forgive me for interrupting your sleep." "Ah! your guide! your guide! I didn't believe him at first...but... I will settle with him!...Good-bye, sir. God will reward you for helping me. I Not so bad as you think... Yes, there is something in me worthy of a gentleman's sympathy... Good-bye, sir... I have but one regret that I cannot repay you myself." "If you want to repay me, please promise me one thing, Don Jose, that you will never suspect anyone, never seek revenge. Here, these cigars are for you to smoke on the road. Safe travels!" I give him my hand.He shook my hand firmly, without saying a word; taking his lance and his bag, he said a few words to the old woman in a dialect I could not understand, and then, flying To the stables.A few minutes later, I heard him galloping across the fields. As for me, I lay on my bench again, but I could no longer sleep.I wondered if I had any reason at all to save a robber or murderer from the gallows?I did it only because I had eaten ham and Valencian rice with him.Have I betrayed the guide who is on the side of the law?Am I not exposing him to the danger of vengeance from criminals?But what about the duty of hospitality? ... I think this is the prejudice of the savage; I am responsible for all the crimes committed by this robber ... But conscience rejects all reasoning instinctively, is this also prejudice?Maybe, in the difficult situation I was in, I couldn't get out without regret. I was thinking about it, and was not sure whether my behavior was moral or not, when I saw six lancers appearing with Antonio, who was very carefully hiding behind.I went up to them, and told them that the robbers had escaped two hours before.The captain questioned the old woman, and the old woman replied that she knew Navarro, but because she lived here alone, she dared not risk her life to inform him.She added that it was his habit to start at midnight when he visited her.As for me, I had to walk several miles to present my passport to a magistrate and sign a statement before I could continue my archaeological investigation.Antonio kinda hated me because he suspected that I was preventing him from earning the two hundred digas.We parted in Cordoba, however, as good friends; I paid him a handsome sum, and as much as my means allowed, I gave him as much as I could.