In which is described Flyaway Islands and the drawing of maps. Preceded by the events of the eve where the valorous knight-apparent defends the host's castle from necromancers and other things that move in the Night

Don Quixote and Sancho Panza were slow to retire as they were enjoying the pleasantries provided by their host Monsignor de la Quezy and his mistress and dame Catherine. The summer home over looked the great ocean and usually was blessed with cooling winds but tonight was an exception and as yet there was no sea breeze. All retired to their rooms. In particular, the famous knight-errant was give the suite open to the hills backing the great castle so that he might enjoy the morning air as well. The windows were open, shutters drawn back and the curtains that often covered the openings were secured to their fastenings as well. Sancho was in adjoining quarters so that he might answer his master's call.

It should be noted that this particular group of rooms were often used by a string quartet composed of not only the Monsignor but several other noblemen as well. As was the custom, the fine violins were kept on the mantle place so that they might be free from changing moisture and thus retain their beautiful tone. In particular, Monsignor Quezy's had been hand crafted to his instruction so that its fit under his ample chin was comfortable and secure. It was a particularly beautiful piece, as well as was the horsehair bow which rested along side its companion.

The lady Catherine was entranced by Sancho's wit and his drool stories of the knight's adventures and was reluctant to see them retire to their chambers but as written before the hour was late. At last all retired to their feathers and with the exception of Don Quixote who continued to relate in his mind the adventures of Amadis of Gaul and others, they soon fell into a deep sleep.

Suddenly there was a great uproar from the Don's chamber. In the dim light of the moon, our Famous Knight had sprung into action against I know not what. His first commands for Sancho for assistance were met with no response from his squire, who as usual was deep in his slumbers. Seeing that he would have to defend the castle alone in the semi-darkness, Quixote rushed to bar the door and finding it partially ajar crashed head-long into it. Falling back, his cries took on greater urgencies and soon the entire household was coming to life, not unlike when he had been a guest in the inn and entreated to pleasantness by the Maritornes. Of course, Sancho slept on.

Arising, and stepping back, he tumbled over the foot of his bed and again crashed to the floor. At this time, it was assured that he was being besmeared by a doppleganger or the like and it was to be his fate to save the castle's residents from the evils. About his head a winged demon flew, swooping low over him and darted from the room's far corner to the hearth and back again.

The Monsignor arrived at the doorway and was treated to a vision for which he was unprepared. There in the darkened room, his guest was running about the room naked! And what more to the host's astonishment, Don Quixote was holding the violin, his violin, his musical instrument, his treasure by the "handle". M. Quezy would have been less concerned if it had been his wife that the knight-errant held in his embrace.

With guttural sounds that were without description, Don Quixote addressed the flying beast, and with mighty blows through the air attempted to halt its flight. His efforts were so great that the violin resounded to the rush of air over the cat-gut members and gave a dying cry before it struck the wall that found itself in the path of Don Quixote. Again and again he battered the now fragile pine until it was reduced to pieces unfit for kindling a fire. He continued until he was fairly exhausted, jumping, crashing into the furniture, falling, jumping again until even the bed was shaken from its moorings and crashed to the floor. Never once did he release his grasp on the violin's neck to which now hung the shattered body by the strings which caused it to move in a wide arch and sometimes would strike our fair knight on the rebound, which only encouraged him to renew his attack as he was sure that the battle was to go to the quick and valorous.

Finally the battle was ended, the naked Don Quixote lay exhausted on the floor, the violin was not to be recognized, and the cause of this struggle was not to be found. With a low bow, M. Quezy addressed Don Quixote; "I trust that you have enjoyed your exercises and I look forward to the morning when we can do the sums on the damages that you have brought to my home. Goodnight." And turning to depart, he felt the crack of his mother-of-pearl encrusted violin bow yield to his bare foot's weight. With heavy heart and great anger, he returned to his own quarters and said not a word to his mistress, the assembled castle staff or to Madame Catherine.*

The following morn M. Quezy had regained his composure and in fact was looking forward to being able to relate to his friends how the great knight-errant had defended his castle against flying spirits that can only be dimly seen. With this he instructed his staff to prepare an abundant satchel for Sancho and his master so that they could depart as quickly as possible. Amadis and Rozinante were given an ample feed, haltered, bridled and brought to the castle moat. After our two travelers had completed their morning toilet and without breakfast, they were escorted to their waiting beast and sent on their way.

It is related by S. J. Mathrow that neither Sancho who had slept through the entire evening's fun, or our knight who was much battered and bruised by his encounter with the doors, furniture and other accommodations of his suite, could understand why they were being shown such kindness and encouraged to depart from the castle where they had fully intended to stay at least two fortnights.

So they rode away and soon Don Quixote began this discourse.

"Ah, Sancho, I must tell you about the islands that I have so much promised you in the past. Friend, you will learn from your reading, (although you claim to not have the ability),that books are written by young men seeking their own promotion perhaps through academia. Older men such as myself must be content to seek publicity, fame and recognition to compensate for their having not had the where or the where-with-all to have done more than put to paper the ideas that fly about their minds not unlike bats disturbed in a darkened cave. As you see, the old or the young know not about what they write. For the most part they grasp a bit of knowledge from a single map, a papal or a notice posted on the square and write effuse articles, books and such. With publication comes authority. Now so called learned men of science come forth pronounce what has been written as good and further the madness. But you ask, if others of authority contribute little to our knowledge and much falsehood, how can it be that I, the knight-errant with a face that is withered and on which others have cast great scorn, can know otherwise? Sancho, the difference is that I have studied the literature, the great writers of the past are now scorned as not being of this new age of information which using the marvels of the printing press make available to all mankind the new science, the new theories, the new facts on the ground. Alas, they all scorn the past and are to repeat it and the lessons of history. But friend Sancho, there is much to be learned by literature that covers a period greater than a fortnight. So it is that I have found in documents recorded in our fair city of Seville mention of islands that are to be found not too distant from our fair western coast.

The ships of Portugal have plied these waters and the masters of the ships have duly recorded in their logs the many wondrous islands that they have discovered. But in the true art of allegiance to their country, they move the islands to a more distant location or to the cold north or inhospitable south so that others will be dissuaded from finding them. It is then necessary for one such as I, the valorous knight to unscramble the code and know to which direction that one must sail to find these fair lands. I know that to go North one must go South in the Atlantic to reach those shores that I have promised you. And, I entrust to you the knowledge for you to gain the island kingdom.

As we spread our lunch this day I will draw a line in the sand which shows the location of your treasure. I might add to address a common saying by gentlemen and statesmen who should know better, one draws a line in the sand, not as they say to provide a mark that those in opposition must not cross without feat of retribution. But instead to remember the "shifting sands", that this line is not permanent. If they so chose to make an absolute, they then must make their mark on stone, clay, or build markers that will not be moved by wind and the tides of fate.

But my purpose, fair friend, is to make it possible for you to locate in your mind the islands I have promised, and then we shall erase any evidence so that the location will remain between thee and me. That is the purpose of sand writing.

As King Ferdinand and Queen Isabelle have told us, the gentleman Christopher Columbus, who is not hidalgo like myself but of common birth, will embark on voyages of the Ocean and will bring back great treasures to enrich our fair country and our royal families as well. Hear well my comments, for Columbus will sail beyond the flyaway islands and discover a land and peoples far distant. To this he is welcome. You Sancho shall be the proud possessor and ruler of a near land. Hear well what Alexander von Humboldt has said, "There are three stages in the popular attitude toward a great discovery; first, men doubt its existence, next they deny its importance, and finally they give the credit to someone else." Others may doubt the presence of these islands seen in the clouds to the west on the departing sun, but I am sure of their being. When you have possessed these lands no one will doubt their value and contribution to the royal treasury. And, I entrust you to make it known through the writer, S. J. Mathrow and others that I, Don Quixote, shall be credited with their settlement by you, my most trusted squire."

Now it is recorded that Sancho Panza was growing a bit weary of talk of islands in the sun, especially those that seem to fly to another location when they were sought. But more in particular, Sancho had had his fill of the coastal area. The land was not rich, but instead barren. The peoples were not beautiful as he had been lead to believe, the men were stooped and worn from hard labor on the boats. Their women folk had tongues that could be used as a steel rasp to strike away and abrade the most hardened of a man's good temperament. The wine was often watered and the daily feed was mostly fish and salted fish and shellfish that more likely than not were more than a day's catch away. Sancho while enjoying the provisions made possible by the good Monsignor lusted for a joint of beef or mutton and hoped to fill his void with some other substances. In fact it seemed to him that the heavy consumption of fish and vegetables was unwise. He continued to believe that greens were what food ate. He wanted meat!

In addition, the low lying lands had mosquitoes, sand flies, and other vermin that preyed on man, night and day. The sun was harsh, the breeze little refreshing and the storms when they came drove one to shelter for days without end. This is what his good master was promising him? If so, he thought it more than wise to return to Mancha and his wife. But he knew if he did so without the gains that had been promised to him, his life would be one of misery for his dear wife also had a tongue that could be fearsome. How to resolve this pitiful dilemma?

As they continued their passage along the coastal highway, in the distance and away from the shore, Sancho spied a corpse of trees that offered a bit of greenery in this barren, grey world. He proposed; "Fair Don Quixote, do you see the island in the East?"

To our knight-errant what Sancho was referring to was simply a green sward on a near hillside. But his imagination was greater than that of Sancho and he immediately answered; "Islands need not be of sand and rock surrounded by water. Yes good squire, that is indeed an island and one where we shall partake our morning meal. It is good that it is near for my injuries from the past night when I alone faced the necromancer are giving me much pain."

After alighting, Sancho hobbled Rozinante and Amadis to graze. These two companions were delighted to find a bit of green grass after so long a diet of dry straw,. Sancho spread the buffet and with the generous offerings of wine and bread that their past host provided, the two were soon lost in deep conversation regarding islands and the like. At the conclusion of the discourse, both Sancho and the Don were of the mind that the promised island for Sancho would better be located far from this most barren waste and preferably toward the Mediterranean and its more pleasant climate. Whether an island must be by definition surrounded by water was on both their minds, but it seemed that since the earth had undergone many upheavals, that it was likely that any higher ground might at some time in the distant past have been an island so the question was not whether but when.

So ends the journey to the Western coast and the adventures that were enjoyed by Don Quixote de la Mancha and his patient squire, Sancho Panza.

*A similar story is related by Audubon who had the pleasure of hosting the great naturalist, Constantine Samuel Rafinesque-Schmaltz Audubon's America, Donald Culross Peattie, Houghton Mifflin Company,1940.
**The European Discovery of America, The Northern Voyages, A.D. 400-1600. Samuel Morrison, pp 81.

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