OUR LAST WEEK IN FUERTEVENTURA 57 



boat touches on a Tuesday morning on its way to Lan- 

 zarote, calling at Puerto Cabras again on the following 

 day on its return voyage. 



Fuerteventura had but little that it could export 

 beyond its own inhabitants, these migrating, after an 

 unusually lengthened period of drought, to Cuba or the 

 Peninsula, by which name they always referred to 

 Spain ; chiefly to Cuba though, where nearly all of 

 them seemed to have relations of one sort or another. 



When the last string of camels has resolved itself 

 into a mere dot upon the horizon, and the sun is tinting 

 the mountain-tops an even deeper red than usual, we 

 find ourselves outside the little-wine shop close to 

 Tuineje, while the cheery brother insists on making 

 every one feel very uncomfortable by taking a small 

 glass of the thin vinegary wine of the country. 



The Spaniards in Fuerteventura are great cigarette 

 smokers, but the older men will as frequently smoke 

 pipes. The flint and steel too are in general use among 

 many of the inhabitants in outlying villages, in which 

 matches are rarely seen. Certainly no more satisfac- 

 tory method of lighting a pipe in a strong wind is to 

 be found than by the use of the flint and steel. The 

 native match, as made in the island, is a homely affair, 

 consisting simply of a broad strip of touch-paper cut 

 into notches on one side, so that pieces may be torn 

 off as required, the ends of the pieces so notched being 

 dipped in phosphorus. The cigarettes, which may be 

 bought at twenty for a penny, are composed of dry, 

 chopped up tobacco, enclosed in a roll of paper, which 

 is closed up at both ends. 



The poorest class of Spaniards here, as in Tenerife, 



