Absorbed in his thoughts, Don Quixote, the famous knight, had not proceeded more than half a league on his journey when, raising his head, he perceived a cart covered with royal flags coming along the road they were travelling, and, persuaded that this must be some new adventure, he called aloud to Sancho, his squire, to bring him his helmet. As the squire approached, he called to him: “Give me that helmet, my friend, for either I know little of adventures or what I observe yonder is one that will, and does, call on me to arm myself.”

By the time that Don Quixote had put on his helmet, the cart with the flags had come up, unattended by any one except the carter on a mule, and a man sitting before the door of the cart. The knight planted himself before it, and said: “Where are you going, brothers? What cart is this? What have you got in it? What flags are those?”

To this the carter replied: “The cart is mine; what is in it is a pair of fine caged lions, which the governor of Oran is sending to court as a present to his Majesty, and the flags are our lord the king’s, to show that this is his property.”

“Are the lions large?” asked Don Quixote.

“So large,” replied the man who sat at the door of the cart, “that larger have never crossed from Africa to Spain. I am the keeper, and I have brought over others, but never any like these. They are hungry now, for they have eaten nothing to-day, so let your worship stand aside, for we must make haste to the place where we are to feed them.”

Hereon, smiling slightly, Don Quixote exclaimed: “Get down, my good fellow, and as you are the keeper, open the cages and turn out those beasts, and in the midst of this plain, I shall let them know who Don Quixote of La Mancha is, in spite and in the teeth of the enchanters who sent them to me.”

At this instant Sancho came up, saying to the keeper of the lions: “Sir, do something to keep my master, Don Quixote, from fighting those lions; for if he does, they’ll tear us all to pieces here.”

“Sancho,” said Don Quixote, “you leave this business to me;” and then turning to the keeper, he exclaimed: “By all that’s good, Sir Keeper, if you do not open the cages this very instant, I shall pin you to the cart with this lance.”

The carter, seeing the determination of the knight, said to him: “Please your worship, let me unyoke the mules, and place myself in safety along with them before the lions are turned out, for if they kill the mules, I am ruined for life. All I possess is this cart and mules.”

“O man of little faith,” replied Don Quixote, “get down and unyoke. You shall soon see that you are exerting yourself for nothing, and that you might have spared yourself the trouble.”

The carter got down, and with all speed unyoked the mules, and the keeper called out at the top of his voice: “I call all here to witness that against my will and under compulsion I open the cages and let the lions loose, and that I warn this gentleman that he shall be accountable for all the harm and mischief which these beasts may do, and for my salary and dues as well.” Then, speaking to the carter and Sancho, he said: “You, gentlemen, place yourselves in safety before I open, for I know they will do me no harm.”

Sancho, with tears in his eyes, entreated his master to give up the enterprise. “Look ye, seÑor,” said he, “there’s no enchantment here, not anything of the sort; for between the bars and chinks of the cage I have seen the paw of a real lion, and judging by that, I reckon that such a paw should belong to a lion much bigger than a mountain.”

“Fear, at any rate,” replied Don Quixote, “will make him look bigger to thee than half the world. Retire, Sancho, and leave me. I say no more.” And renewing his commands to the keeper, and repeating his threats, he gave warning to Sancho to spur his horse, and to the carter to drive away his mules. Both Sancho and the carter did not disobey the commands of the knight, but strove to get away from the cart before the lions broke loose.

During the delay that occurred while the keeper was opening the cage, Don Quixote was considering whether it would not be well to do battle on foot instead of on horseback, and he finally resolved to fight on foot, fearing that his horse might take fright at the sight of the lions. He therefore sprang to the ground, flung his lance aside, braced his buckler on his arm, and drawing his sword, advanced slowly with resolute courage, to plant himself in front of the cart. The keeper, seeing that the knight had taken up his position, and that it was impossible for him to avoid letting out the lions without getting into trouble, flung open the doors of the cage containing the lion, which was now seen to be of enormous size and grim and hideous mien.

The first thing the lion did was to turn round in the cage in which he lay, and protrude his claws and stretch himself thoroughly. He next opened his mouth and yawned very leisurely. When he had done this, he put his head out of the cage and looked all round with eyes like glowing coals. Don Quixote merely observed him steadily, longing for him to leap from the cart and come to close quarters with him, when he hoped to hew him to pieces. But the noble beast turned about and very coolly and tranquilly lay down again in the cage. Seeing this, Don Quixote ordered the keeper to take a stick to him and provoke him, to make him come out.

“That I will not,” said the keeper; “for if I anger him, the first he’ll tear in pieces will be myself. Be satisfied, Sir Knight, with what you have done, which leaves nothing more to be said on the score of courage, and do not seek to tempt fortune a second time. The lion has the door open; he is free to come out or not to come out; but as he has not come out so far, he will not come out to-day. The greatness of your worship’s courage has been fully manifested already; no brave champion, so it strikes me, is bound to do more than challenge his enemy and wait for him on the field. If his adversary does not come, on him lies the disgrace, and he who waits for him carries off the crown of victory.”

“That is true,” said Don Quixote; “close the door, my friend, and let me have by way of certificate in the best form thou canst what thou hast seen me do. Close the door, as I bade thee, while I make signals to the fugitives that have left us, that they may learn this exploit from thy lips.”

The keeper obeyed, and Don Quixote, fixing his handkerchief on the point of his lance, proceeded to recall the others, who still continued to fly, looking back at every step. Sancho, however, happening to observe the signal, exclaimed: “May I die if my master has not overcome the wild beasts, for he is calling to us.”

They stopped, and, perceiving that it was Don Quixote who was making signals, they approached slowly until they were near enough to hear him distinctly calling to them. They returned at length to the cart, and as they came up, Don Quixote said to the carter: “Put your mules to the cart once more, brother, and continue your journey; and do thou, Sancho, give him two gold crowns for himself and the keeper, to compensate them for the delay they have incurred through me.”

Sancho paid the crowns, the keeper kissed Don Quixote’s hands for the bounty bestowed on him, and promised to give an account of the valiant exploit to the king himself, as soon as he saw him at court. The cart went its way, and Don Quixote and Sancho went theirs.