28 Travel and Equipment 
various parts of one’s kit separate and easily accessible. Among 
such are a good waterproof coat—no flimsy shooting cape will 
turn Spanish rain—and a warm guernsey to pull on over all when 
required. 
It will be remarked that no reference is made to one’s servants 
and cook. The reason is simple. On work such as I deal with 
in this book, there is no room for such people and the man who 
cannot look after himself had better adopt some other diversion. 
When pack-animals are employed, the avvero or mule-driver 
of course looks after them and feeds them. 
I have had some amusing experiences in the hospitable ways 
of the good people of the Sierras. Thus, some years ago, when 
travelling with an Artillery officer we reached a house of a euarda 
or keeper, who was most anxious we should stop at his place for 
the night. In accordance with custom, we had all necessary 
equipment. After I had cooked our dinner | asked our host to 
show us the room for our camp beds. He at once replied 
“Here” and brought them in. Protest was useless so we 
unpacked, undressed and turned in. Presently he followed suit 
and scrambled into a big double bed at the far end of the room, 
our hostess meanwhile having disappeared. She now returned 
and to our surprise likewise commenced to undress. The situa- 
tion was novel. At the exact psychological moment she blew 
out the light! Next morning, both gvarda and wife were up and 
dressed before we woke. This tale of my methods of travel in 
wilder Spain has reached the snows of the Himalayas and thence 
has come back to me. 
I am writing this chapter in a small room in a cottage in wild 
Spain. It is mid-winter and a very wet day. The wind is howling 
and the rain restricts the view to a few hundred yards. But the 
roof is sound and the whitewashed walls and stone floor are dry 
and I am sitting in my own arm-chair at my own table and mentally 
