14 WILD SPAIN. 



brakes of giant canes and briar, presently to strike again 

 the upward track through evergreen forests of chestnut 

 and cork-oak. 



The silence and solitude of hours — that perfect loneli- 

 ness characteristic of highland regions — is broken at last 

 by a human greeting so unexpected and startling, that the 

 rider instinctively checks his horse, and grasps the gun 

 which hangs in the slings by his side. But alarm is soon 

 allayed as a pair of Civil Guards on their well-appointed 

 mounts emerge from some sheltering thicket, and com- 

 mand the way. The f/Kardias civiles patrol the Spanish 

 hills in pairs by day and night, for it is through the passes 

 of the sierra that the inland towns are supplied with con- 

 traband from the coast, and all travellers are subject to 

 the scrutiny of these sharp-eyed cavalry. Yet, despite the 

 vigilance of this fine corps and their coadjutors the 

 carbineers, the smuggler manages to live and to drive a 

 thriving trade. Possessing a beast of marvellous agility 

 and tried endurance, he carries his cargo of cottons or 

 tobacco — the unexcised output of Malaga or Gibraltar — 

 across the sierras, by devious paths and break-neck passes 

 which would appear impracticable, save to a goat ; and 

 this, too, generally by night. 



Towns are few and far between among the mountains, 

 and the rare villages often cluster picturesquely on 

 the ridge of some stupendous crag like eagles' eyries : 

 positions chosen for their strength centuries ago, and 

 nothing changes in Spain. It is not considered safe for 

 well-to-do people to live on their possessions of cork-woods 

 and cattle-runs, and few of that class are ever to be seen 

 in the sierras, while those whom business or necessity 

 takes from one town to another naturally choose the route 

 which is, as they term it, " vias acoinpafiado," i.e., most fre- 

 quented, even though it be three times as long — in Spanish 

 phrase, ^' no hay atajo sin trahajo.'" A wanderer from these 

 veredas is looked upon with a suspicion which experience 

 has shown is not ill-founded. 



One evidence of human presence is, however, inevitably 

 in sight — the blue, curling smoke of the charcoal-burners, 



