A BOAR-HUNT IN THE SIERRA. 



25 



lands — chaff, or rather broken straw, being the staple food 

 of the Spanish horse ; and these now formed our beds, 

 though their softness decreased nightly by reason of the 

 constant inroads on their substance made by our Bosi- 

 nantes. Otherwise the naked stone-paved room was 

 absolutely innocent of either furniture or food ; yet we 

 were happy enough, as, rolled in our manias, we lay down 

 to sleep on those long pokes. 



Early in the morning the mountaineers began to assem- 

 ble in the courtyard of the rancho. Light of build as a 

 rule, sinewy, and bronzed to a copper hue, looking as if 



' FURNITURE." 



their very blood was parched and dried up by tobacco 

 and the fierce southern sun, and with narajas stuck in 

 their scarlet waistbands, these wild men might each have 

 served as a melodramatic desperado. Three brothers of 

 our host had ridden up from a distant farm ; there was 

 old Christoval, the ready-witted squatter on the adjoining 

 rancho, a cheery old fellow, carrying fun and laughter 

 wherever he went ; last came the Fadre from the nearest 

 hill-village (Paterna), whose sporting instinct had made 

 light work of the long and early ride across the sierra to 

 join our batida. Alonzo, the herdsman, who added to his 

 pastoral knowledge an intimate accpiaintance with the wild 



