The Sierra Nevada 309 



ships deterred us from repeating the experiment. These initial 

 campaigns were too early in the season (iMarch and April). 



The only birds seen were choughs and ravens ; ring-ouzels 

 lower down. There were plenty of trout, though small, in the 

 hill-burns. On one occasion a circular rainbow across a deep 

 gorge perfectly reflected in the centre our own figures on passing 

 a given point. 'J'he ice-going abilities of the mountaineers were 

 marvellous — incredible save to an eye-witness. Across even a 

 north-drift, hard and " slape " as steel and hundreds of yards in 

 extent, these men would steer a sliding, slithering course at top 

 speed, directed towards some single projecting rock. To miss 

 that refuge might mean death ; but they did not miss it, ever, in 

 their perilous course, making good a certain amount of forward 

 movement. At that rock they would settle in their minds the 

 next point to be reached, quietly smoking a cigarette meanwhile. 

 How such performances diminish one's self-esteem ! How weak 

 are our efforts ! Even on the softer southern drifts, what 

 balancing, what scrambling and crawling on hands and knees are 

 necessary, and what a " cropper " one would have come but for 

 the friendly arm of Enrique, who, as he arrests one's perilous 

 slide, merely mutters, " Ave Maria purissima ! " 



Now we have left the ice and snow and the ibex to wander 

 in peace over their lonely domains. To-night we have dined at 

 a table ; there is a cheery fire in the rude posacla and merry 

 voices, contrasting with the silence of our cave, where no one 

 spoke above a whisper, and where no fire was permissible save 

 once a day to heat the olla. Now all we need is a song from the 

 Murillo-faced little o-irl who is fanning;- the charcoal embers. 

 " Sing us a couplet, DoMres, to welcome us l)ack from the snows 

 of Alpuxarras ! " 



Dolores. " With the greatest pleasure, Cahallero, if Jose 

 will play the guitar. No one plays like Jose, but he is tired, 

 having travelled all day with his mules from Lanjaron." 



Jose. " No, senor, not tired, but I have no soul to-night to 

 play. This morning they asked me to bring medicine from the 

 town for Carmen, but when I reached the house she was dead. 

 I find myself very sad." 



DoUres. " Pero, si ya tiene su palma y su corona ? " . . . 

 =:but as she already has her palm and her crown ? 



