a on a distant
expedition with many of his troops. The moment was favorable for a
foray, and Muley Abul Hassan cast about his thoughts for a leader
to conduct it. Ali Atar, the terror of the border, the scourge of
Andalusia, was dead, but there was another veteran general, scarce
inferior to him for predatory warfare. This was old Bexir, the gray and
crafty alcayde of Malaga, and the people under his command were ripe
for an expedition of the kind. The signal defeat and slaughter of the
Spanish knights in the neighboring mountains had filled the people of
Malaga with vanity and self-conceit. They had attributed to their own
valor the defeat caused by the nature of the country. Many of them
wore the armor and paraded in public with the horses of the unfortunate
cavaliers slain on that occasion, vauntingly displaying them as trophies
of their boasted victory. They had talked themselves into a contempt
for the chivalry of Andalusia, and were impatient for an opportunity
to overrun a country defended by such troops. This Muley Abul Hassan
considered a favorable state of mind for a daring inroad, and sent
orders to old Bexir to gather together the choicest warriors of the
borders and carry fire and sword into the very heart of Andalusia. Bexir
immediately despatched his emissaries among the alcaydes of the border
towns, calling upon them to assemble with their troops at the city of
Ronda.

Ronda was the most virulent nest of Moorish depredators in the whole
border country. It was situated in the midst of the wild Serrania, or
chain of mountains of the same name, which are uncommonly lofty, broken,
and precipitous. It stood on an almost isolated rock, nearly encircled
by a deep valley, or rather chasm, through which ran the beautiful river
called Rio Verde. The Moors of this city were the most active, robust,
and warlike of all the mountaineers, and their very children discharged
the crossbow with unerring aim. They were incessantly harassing the rich
plains of Andalusia; their city abounded with Christian captives, who
might sigh in vain for deliverance from this impregnable fortress. Such
was Ronda in the time of the Moors, and it has ever retained something
of the same character, even to the present day. Its inhabitants
continue to be among the boldest, fiercest, and most adventurous of the
Andalusian mountaineers, and the Serrania de Ronda is famous as the most
dangerous resort of the bandit and the contrabandista.

Ham