far-famed for its shrine to Our Lady of that ilk, closes that horizon; while to westward the ranges of Sta. Cruz and Montanches shut in the frontier of Portugal. What a panorama--a circle eighty miles across!

Yet in all that expanse you can detect no more evidence of human presence than you would see in equatorial Africa--surveying, let us say, the well-known Athi Plains from the adjoining heights of Lukenia.

We are aware that already, in describing La Mancha, we have employed an African simile; but here, in Estremadura, the comparison is yet more apposite and forceful than in the wildest of Don Quixote's country. We will vary it by likening Estremadura rather to the highlands of Transvaal--the land of the back-veld Boer--than to Equatoria. Here, as there, rocky koppies stud the wastes, and (differing from La Mancha) water-courses traverse them, with intermittent pools surviving even in June, stagnant and pestilent. Such in Africa would be jungle-fringed--worth trying for a lion! Here their naked banks scarce provide covert for a hare.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "SCAVENGERS"]

An index of the poverty-stricken condition of Estremadura is afforded by the comparative absence of the birds-of-prey. Never do the soaring vultures--elsewhere so characteristic of Spanish skies--catch one's eye, and very rarely an eagle or buzzard. A province that cannot support scavengers promises ill for mankind.

In his mirror-like "Notes from Spain," Richard Ford suggested that the vast unknown wildernesses of Estremadura would, if explored, yield store of wealth to the naturalist, and each succeeding naturalist (ourselves included) followed that clue. Therein, however, lurked that old human error, _ignotum pro mirabili_. Deserted by man, the region is equally avoided by bird and beast. We write generally and in full sense of local exceptions--that wild fallow-deer, for example, find here one, possibly their only European home;[37] that red deer of superb dimensions, roe, wolves, and wild-boars abound on Estremenian sierra and _vega_. Then, too, there may well be isolated spots of interest in 20,000 square miles, but which escaped our survey. Yet what we write represents the essential fact--Estremadura is a barren lifeless wilderness and offers no more attraction to naturalist than to agriculturist.

The cause of all this involves questions not easily answered. In earlier days the case may have been different. Obviously the Romans thought highly of Estremadura and meant to run it for all it was worth. The Caesars were no visionaries, and such colossal works as their reservoirs and aqueducts at Merida, the ma.s.sive amphitheatre and circus at the same city (a half-completed bull-ring stands alongside in pitiful contrast), besides their construction of a first-cla.s.s fortress at Trujillo, all attest a matured judgment. After the Romans came the Goths, and they, too, have left evidence of appreciation (though less conspicuous) alike in city and country. Four hundred years later the Arabs overthrew the Goths on Guadalete (A.D. 711), and within two years had overrun two-thirds of Spain. But the Moor (so far as we can see) despised these barren uplands, or perhaps a.s.sessed them at a truer value--a single strong outpost (Trujillo) in an otherwise worthless region.

Much or little, however, each of those successive conquerors found _some_ use for Estremadura. A totally different era opened with the fall of Moslem dominion. After the _Reconquista_ and subsequent extermination of the Moors (seventeenth century), Estremadura was utterly abandoned, by Cross and Crescent alike, till the highland shepherds of the Castiles and of Leon, looking down from its northern frontier, saw in these lower-lying wastes a useful winter-grazing. Then commenced seasonal nomadic incursions thereto, pastoral tribes driving down each autumn their flocks and herds, much as the Patriarchs did in Biblical days--or the Masai in East Africa till yesterday.

Though the land itself was ownerless, shadowy prescriptive rights gradually evolved, and under the t.i.tle of _Mestas_ continued to be recognised by the pastoral nomads till abolished by Royal Decree in the sixteenth century. From that date commenced the subdivision of Estremadura into the present large private estates--again recalling the back-veld Boers, who hate to live one within sight of another, except that here owners are non-resident.

All this may explain superficially the existing desolation. The essential causes, however, are, we believe, (1) barrenness of soil; and (2) an enervating climate, fever-infected by stagnant waters, dead pools, and ubiquitous shallow swamps that poison the air and produce mosquitoes in millions.

Gazing in reflective mood upon those magnificent memorials of Roman rule at Merida, one is tempted to wonder whether, after all, the silent ruins (with a stork's nest on each parapet) do not yet point the true way to Estremenian prosperity--IRRIGATION (plus energy--a quality one misses in Estremadura).

TRUJILLO

Founded 2000 years back (by Augustus Caesar), this out-of-the-world city has a knack of periodically dropping out of history--skipping a few centuries at a time--meanwhile presumably dragging on its own dreamy unrecorded existence, "by the world forgot," till some fresh incident forces it on the stage once more. There were stirring times here while, for near a thousand years, the upland vegas were swept and ravaged by three successive waves of foreign invasion. Then Trujillo relapsed into trance, skipped the middle ages, and awoke to find at its gates another foreign foe--this time the French.

And the city reflects these vicissitudes. The Roman fortress, magnificent in extent and military strength, completely covers the rugged granite heights, imposing still in crumbling ruin. Forty-foot ramparts with inner and outer defences, bastions and flanking towers, machicolated and pierced for arrow fire, crown the whole circuit of the koppie. Signs of ancient grandeur everywhere meet one's eye; but contrasts pain at every turn. For filthy swine to-day defile palaces; donkeys are stalled in sculptured _patios_ whence armoured knight on Arab steed once rode forth to clatter along the stone-paved ravelins that led to the point of danger. From mullioned embrasures above, whence the Euterpes and Lalages of old waved tender adieux, now peer slatternly peasants; crumbling battlements form homes for white owls and bats, kestrels, hoopoes, and a mult.i.tude of storks such as can nowhere else be seen congregated in a single city. The sense of desolation is accentuated by finding such feathered recluses as blue rock-thrush and blackchat actually nesting in the very citadel itself.

The citadel marks the era of war. The Goths followed and despised fortifications. Their ornate palaces, enriched with escutcheons and sculptured device, lie below, outside the Roman walls.

After the Goths and after the Moors, Trujillo enjoyed a transient awakening when Pizarro, son of an Estremenian swine-herd, with Cortez (also born hard by), swept the New World from Mexico to the Andes, and the glory of her sons, with the gold of the Incas, poured into the city.

Thereafter destiny altered. Instead of consolidating new-won dominions by fostering commerce, exploiting their resources by establishing forts and factories, plantations, harbours, and the like, Spain directed her energies to missionising. Instead of commercial companies with fleets of merchantmen, she sent out sacred Brotherhoods, friars of religious orders, and studded the New World with empty names, all acts right enough and laudable in their own proper time and place.

Trujillo boasts an industry in the manufacture of a rough red-brown earthenware, chiefly tall water-jars, amphora-shaped, which damsels carry upright on their heads with marvellous balance; and iron-spiked dog-collars as here represented. These are not suitable for lap-dogs, but for the huge mastiffs employed in guarding sheep and which, without such protection, would be devoured by wolves!

[Ill.u.s.tration: WOLF-PROOF DOG-COLLAR

(Six-inch diameter.)]

Hitherto our journeys have led us chiefly through the Estremenian plain, but after pa.s.sing Plasencia the country changes. We enter the outliers of those great sierras that shut out Estremadura from Leon and Castile, from Portugal--and the world! Here one quickly perceives signs of greater prosperity, due in part to the heavier rainfall from the hills, to a slightly richer soil, but mainly to the superior energy of hill-folk. Wherever the soil warrants it, cultivation is pushed right up amidst the jungled slopes of the hills.

In the folds of the sierra grow magnificent woods of Spanish chestnut with some walnut trees, and among these we observed many fresh species of birds, including:--nuthatch (not seen elsewhere in Spain), green woodp.e.c.k.e.r, common (but no azure) magpies, golden orioles, pied and spotted fly-catchers, grey and white wagtails (breeding), whitethroats and nightingales, longtailed t.i.ts, woodlarks, corn-buntings, rock-sparrows, and quite a number of warblers (spectacled, rufous, and subalpine, Bonelli's and melodious willow-warblers), besides the usual common species--serins, chaffinches, robins, wrens, and so on. On the sterile upland plateaux, both here and in Castile, the black-bellied sand-grouse breeds, as well as stone-curlew, bustard, and the usual larks and chats.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

GRANADILLA

At the extreme northern verge of the plain one encounters a singular survival of long-past and forgotten ages, the "fenced city" of Granadilla, so absolutely unspoilt and unchanged by time that one breathes for a spell a pure mediaeval air. Granadilla is mentioned in no book that we possess; but it stands there, nevertheless, perched on a rocky bluff above the rushing Alagon, and entirely encompa.s.sed by a thirty-foot wall. Not a single house, not a hut, shows up outside that rampart, and its single gate is guarded by a ma.s.sive stone-built tower.

This tower, we were told by a local friend, was erected after the "Reconquest" (which here occurred about 1300), but the bridge which spans the Alagon, immediately below, is attributed to the Romans--more than a thousand years earlier! and the town itself to the Moors--a pretty tangle which some wandering archaeologist may some day unravel.[38] That the Moors established a settlement here, or hard by, we are confident owing to the existence of extensive _huertas_ (plantations) a few miles up the banks of Alagon. This is just one of those _enclaves_ of rich soil for which the Arabs always had a keen eye; and ancient boundary-walls, with evidence of extreme care in irrigation and cultivation, all bespeak Moorish handiwork. These _huertas_ are planted with fig, pomegranate, cherry, and various exotic fruit-trees, besides cork-oak and olive; every tree displaying signs of extreme old age--though that strikes one in most parts of Spain. Never have we seen more luxuriant crops of every sort than in those ancient _huertas_. Yet they are inset amid encircling wastes!

Granadilla (its name surely suggests cherished memories in its founders of the famous Andalucian _vega_) lies at the gate of that strange wild mountain-region called Las Hurdes.

CHAPTER XXIII

LAS HURDES (ESTREMADURA) AND THE SAVAGE TRIBES THAT INHABIT THEM

Isolated amidst the congeries of mountain-ranges that converge upon Leon, Castile, and Estremadura, lies a lost region that bears this name.

The Hurdes occupy no small s.p.a.ce; they represent no insignificant nook, but a fair-sized province--say fifty miles long by thirty broad--severed from the outer world; cut off from Portugal on the one side, from Spain on the other; while its miserable inhabitants are ignored and despised by both its neighbours.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SKETCH-MAP OF LAS HURDES]

Who and what are these wild tribes (numbering 4000 souls) that, in a squalor and savagery incredible in modern Europe, cling, in solitary tenacity, to these inhospitable fastnesses?

Possibly they are the remnants of Gothish fugitives who, 1200 years ago, sought shelter in these hills from Arab scimitars; other theories trace their origin back to an earlier era. But whether Goths or Visigoths, Vandals or other, these pale-faced Hurdanos are surely none of swarthy Arab or Saracenic blood; and equally certainly they are none of Spanish race. The Spanish leave them severely alone--none dwell in Las Hurdes.

Being neither ethnologists nor antiquaries, nor even sensational writers, the authors confine themselves to their personal experience, stiffened by a study of what the few Spanish authorities have collated on the subject.

Whatever their origin may have been, the Hurdanos of to-day are a depraved and degenerate race, to all intents and purposes savages, lost to all sense of self-respect or shame, of honesty or manliness. Too listless to take thought of the most elementary necessities of life, they are content to lead a semi-b.e.s.t.i.a.l existence, dependent for subsistence on their undersized goats and swine, on an exiguous and precarious cultivation, eked out by roots and wild fruits such as acorns, chestnuts, etc., and on begging outside their own region.

First, as to their country. Picture a maze of mountains all utterly monotonous in uniform configuration--long straight slopes, each skyline practically parallel with that beyond, bare of trees, but clad in shoulder-high scrub. On approaching from the south, the hills are lower and display delightful variety of heaths (including common heather); but as one penetrates northwards, the bush is reduced to the everlasting gum-cistus, and elevations become loftier and more precipitous till they culminate in the sheer rock-walls of the Sierra de Gata. Here, in remote glens, one chances on groves of ilex and cork-oak, whose gnarled boles attest the absence of woodcutters, while huge trunks lie prostrate, decaying from sheer old age. Here and there one sees an ilex enveloped to its summit in parasitic growths of creepers and wild-vine, whose broad, pale-green leaves contrast pleasingly with the dusky foliage and small leaf of its host.

In the deep gorges or canyons of these mountains are situate the settlements, called _Alquerias_, of the wild tribes, most of them inaccessible on horseback. That of Romano de Arriba, for example, is plunged in such an abyss that from November to March no ray of sunshine ever reaches it. A similar case is that of Casa Hurdes, which, as seen from the bridle-track leading over the Sierra de Porteros into Castile, appears buried in the bottom of a creva.s.se. Others, in the reverse, are perched on high, amidst crags that can only be surmounted by a severe scramble up broken rock-stairways.

These _alquerias_--warrens we may translate the word--consist of den-like hovels straggling without order or huddled together according as the rock-formation may dictate--some half-piled one on another, others separate. Many are mere holes in the earth--lairs, shapeless as nature left their walls, but roofed over with branches and gra.s.s held in place by schistose slabs that serve for slates. Hardly, in some cases, can one distinguish human dwellings from surrounding bush, earth, or rock. As our companion, a civil guard, remarked of one set of eyries that adhered to a cliff-face, they rather resembled "the nests of crag-martins" (_nidos de vencejos_) than abodes of mankind.

Within are two tiny compartments, the first occupied by goats or swine, the second littered with bracken on which the whole family sleep, irrespective of age or s.e.x. There is no light nor furniture of any description; no utensils for washing, hardly even for cooking. True, there is in some of the lairs a hollowed trunk which may serve as a bed, but its original design (as the name _batane_ imports) was for pressing the grapes and olives in autumn. No refuse is ever thrown out; even the filthy ferns are retained for use as manure for the orchards--in a word, these poor creatures habitually sleep on a manure-heap. Even wild beasts, the wolves and boars, are infinitely more attentive to domestic cleanliness and purity.

Another _alqueria_ visited by the authors, that of Rubiaco, consisted of a ma.s.sed cl.u.s.ter of sties embedded on the slopes of a low ridge bordered on either side by crystal-bright mountain streams. So timid and shy are the natives that several were descried actually taking to the hill on our appearance. A distribution of tobacco, with coloured handkerchiefs for the women, restored a measure of confidence, and we succeeded in collecting a group or two for the camera. The day, however, was dull and overcast, and rain, unluckily, fell at that precise moment.

These people, clad in patch-work of rags, leather and untanned skins, were undersized, pallid of complexion, plain (though we would scarce say repulsive) in appearance, with dull incurious eyes that were instantly averted when our glances met. The men, otherwise stolid and undemonstrative, affected a vacuous grin or giggle, but utterly devoid of any spark of joy or gladness. Many (though by no means all) displayed distinctly flattened noses, somewhat of the Mongolian type; and not even among the younger girls could a trace of good looks be detected. All went bare-foot, indeed bare-legged to the knee.

On opening the door of a den--an old packing-case lid, three feet high, secured by a thong of goatskin--two pigs dashed forth squealing, and at the first step inside the writer's foot splashed in fetid moisture hidden beneath a litter of green fern. It being dark within, and too low to stand upright, I struck a match and presently became aware of a living object almost underfoot. It proved to be a baby, no bigger than a rabbit, and with tiny black bead-like eyes that gleamed with a wild light--never before have we seen such glance on human face. While examining this phenomenon, a sound from the inner darkness revealed a second inmate. We crept into this lair, scrambling up two steps in the natural rock, and from the fern-litter arose a female. She stood about three feet high, had the same wild eyes, unkempt hair, encrusted brown with dirt, hanging loose over her naked shoulders--a merciful darkness concealed the rest. She appeared to be about ten years old, and dwarfed and undersized at that; yet she told us she was fourteen, and the mother of the rabbit-child, also that its father had deserted her a month ago--ten days before its birth. The lair contained absolutely no furniture, unless dead fern be so styled. Can human misery further go?

The next hovel did contain a _batane_, or hollowed tree, in which lay some scanty rags like fragments of discarded horse-cloths. So lacking are these poor savages in any sufficient clothing, whether for day or night, that the children, we were a.s.sured, were habitually laid to sleep among the swine, in order to share the natural warmth of those beasts.

In one abode only did we discover such convenience as a wooden chest. It contained a handful of potatoes, some chestnuts, and a broken iron cooking-pot. We examined another den or two--practically all were alike.

If anything was there that escaped our attention we had an excuse--the aroma (personal, porcine, and putrid) was more than the strongest could endure for many minutes on end.

We turned away. Mingled feelings of loathing, of pity, and of despair at the utter hopelessness of it all filled our minds. There, not a hundred yards away, a contrasted sight met our eyes, one of humbler nature's most perfect scenes: a fledgeling brood of white wagtails tripped gaily along the burnside--types of pure spotless beauty, overflowing with high spirits and the joy of life. A few minutes later, and a pair of ring-plovers (_Aegialitis curonica_) on the river accentuated the same pitiful contrast.

Such small cultivation as exists in the Hurdes is carried on under supreme difficulty. The hills themselves are uncultivable, and the only opportunities that present themselves are either chance open s.p.a.ces amidst interminable rock, or such rare and narrow strips of soil as can exist between precipitous slopes and the banks of the streams. Here little garden-patches, thirty or forty feet long by a dozen in width, are reclaimed; but the very earth is liable to be swept away by winter-floods pouring down the mountain-sides, and has to be replaced by fresh soil carried--it may be long distances--on men's shoulders. Here a few potatoes may be raised and in the broader valleys scant crops of rye. The few fruit trees are neglected, and therefore give short yield, though what little is produced is of exquisite flavour, comprising figs, cherries, a sort of peach (_pavia_), olives, and vines. All crops are subject to the ravages of wild-boars, which roam in bands of a dozen to a score, fearless of man and molested by none; while wolves take toll of the flocks.

[Ill.u.s.tration: WHITE WAGTAIL]