to make assurance doubly sure, a mound of earth prevented its opening. Not far from the portal, a black bull grazed in the meadow, his sparkling eyes spying around as though it were his duty to guard the entrance.
Reginald did not doubt for a moment to have met with the sought-for adventure, and deciding upon encountering it immediately, descended from the rock. He approached the bull till within an hundred yards, apparently without being noticed by the beast, but then it suddenly started up, and ran backwards and forwards preparing for the contest; it snorted like one of the Andalusian breed, till clouds of dust were blown from the ground, stamped its feet till the earth trembled, and beat its horns against the rocks so as to make pieces fly off. The knight put himself into a posture of attack, and when the bull darted upon him, by a skilful turn he avoided the formidable horn and dealt him such a tremendous blow on the neck with his sword, that he thought he had severed the head from the shoulder, as the valiant Skanderbeg had formerly done.[13] But alas! the neck of the brute was invulnerable to steel and iron; the knight’s sword shivered into pieces, and only the hilt remained in his hand. Nothing was now left for his defence but an
E 2
