350 WILD SPAIN. 



and it was already dark ere the head of our cavalcade 

 sighted the welcome light displayed from the turrets 

 of the ancient shooting lodge of Donana. Though now in 

 a state of partial ruin, the old Palacio still shows signs of 

 former grandeur, and has heen, in bygone days, a favourite 

 sporting retreat for more than one Spanish king. As we 

 approached its glimmering lights amidst the darkness of 

 a November evening, the resonant konk, konk ! kerronk, 

 kerronk ! of the wild geese, the mournful cries of plover 

 and curlew, and the startled splash of wild ducks, are 

 evidence of its lonely marsh-girt site and prophetic of 

 sport to come. 



Around the pile of logs cheerily blazing in the spacious 

 hearth we gather, relieved to find that all the transport 

 and commissariat arrangements had this time come off 

 without a hitch — no slight matter where everything, from 

 a lemon or a hen's egg to a portable bath, from a match 

 to a mattress, has to be transported on mule-back the 

 whole forty miles of rough country (and river) we had 

 just travelled. Our Gallician cook and steward, half 

 sportsman, half Bohemian, had come on two days in 

 advance, and strangers were agreeably surprised to find 

 anything to eat — except perhaps stewed lynx or fricas- 

 seed flamingo — in this outer wilderness. Then, as we 

 gathered round the blazing hearth, enjoying such coffee 

 and hreva cigars as are only combined in Spain, the keepers 

 come in with their reports — keepers of a different type to 

 British ideals, Bartolo, Larrios, and Manolo, copper-skinned, 

 pelt-clad and unkempt, andTrujillo, the cfiiarda mayor, who 

 enters with lordly salaam, his jacket hung on one great 

 shoulder as on a peg — a picture of Cervantes' Quixote. 

 These are four of the ten keepers who, from father to son, 

 have occupied the posts on the property for generations. 



The intention was to devote the first few days to the small 

 game of the adjacent plains, but our first operation in the 

 morning was a deer-drive. This, however, proved blank, 

 for, though several were seen — five stags breaking back 

 — none, except a few hinds and one hareta, or yearling 

 stag, whose incipient horns (hardly longer than his ears) 



