The Ravine was dark in the twilight of early evening under a canopy of tall ancient trees. One of which, moss shaggy, had an ancient looking sheep skull twisted into the roots as if they had grown through it.
The track losing and finding itself again and again amongst the boulders which littered the route down either side of a fast flowing narrow river.
´Shadow´, my dog, moved in and out of the shadows ahead of me as I walked and stumbled, tired, in pain and keen to reach the Hostel of Casa Pablo several kilometers from where the ravine finally ended and the river left it behind to follow a ´Pista´, a rough vehicle track, through the remains of the forest.
We however were still in the ravine, tired and hungry and no longer entirely sure of the path in the rough terrain.

´Shadow´broke out of the darkness ahead of me into a patch of light and the rocks cleared between me and the river, leaving an easier path to follow.

I was relieved to see a clear path at last when suddenly my dog began bouncing along it excitedly letting out a whining bark and at the same time I became aware of movement in the trees on the far bank, less than ten metres from where I´d stopped in my tracks, the old hunting instinct kicking-in.

I peered into the half-light, at the same time calling for Shadow to `stop´ and ´come back´, and at the sound of my voice it bolted.

I had only an impression of something big, black (although that could have been due to the darkness of the forest) and with a huge head and shouder.

Also it seemed to move noiselessly and very fast. (again the silent movement could have been due to the noise of the little river between us).

Shadow just as instantly attempted to take-off after it, mirroring it´s direction on our side of the river, and only stopping because some rocks in the path got in his way and the panniers which he carries his own doggy- gear in, got stuck, Otherwise he would not have responded to my calls and would have vanished into the darkness of the wooded ravine in pursuit.

I quickly caught up to him, and putting him on-leash continued along the path in almost complete darkness now.

I was thinking Bear or Boar but had no idea which if any, were common to this particular area, although I knew well that both were native to the Pyrenees Mountains.
Either way I considered it lucky to have the river (however narrow it was) between us, when the path ahead came up against a trackless rockslide, and I realised that it continued now only on the far bank.
Oh joy! We had to cross the river… onto HIS side…and he was moving on OUR heading!… Then I heard the thunder, and lightning began to fork through the sky above the tree canopy lighting up the ravine eerily.

It began to rain, the leaves of the forest loud with it.

Casa Pablo had been closed… for two years.

*Two days later at a campsite in Urrobi I was shown a picture of a Wild Boar a local Hunter had bagged in the same area… huge, shaggy, black coated and wickedly tusked, mean looking Sucker! …. Good dog Shadow, have a steak My Boy! …or maybe a Pork Chop!