348 WILD SPAIN. 



CHAPTEE XXXII. 



A WINTEB CAMPAIGN IN DONANA. 



(novembee.) 



On a bright November forenoon we embarked from 

 the weed-girt jetty at Bonanza on a big falucha, manned 

 by four sun-bronzed watermen, and in whose spacious 

 storage lay a pile of sporting impedimenta — guns and 

 rifles, baggage, bedding, and the rest. 



We were a party of eight — English and Spanish 

 nationalities equally represented — and old acquaint- 

 ances, associated in many branches of sport. All had 

 come some distance to the rendezvous — some from Seville 

 and Madrid, two from England — to pass a couple of weeks 

 at the historic preserves of Southern Spain, the Coto de 

 Dona Ana. As the swarthy crew let fall their oars into 

 the tide of Guadalquivir, all eyes turned eagerly to the 

 opposite shores, so full of pleasant reminiscences. 'Tis 

 pleasant, too, to know that as the moorings are caBt loose 

 we lose touch of the world and its civilization ; we leave 

 behind us post and telegram, thought and care, and, with 

 them, perhaps, some measure of ease and luxury — from all 

 these things the broad flood of Bcetis and leagues of track- 

 less waste will now divide us ; we are free to revert to 

 primaeval savagery, and we greatly rejoice thereat. Amidst 

 these happier thoughts arose just a qualm of speculation 

 as to whether all the multifarious arrangements incidental 

 to such campaigns had been duly fulfilled, and if we 

 should find our people, horses and mules, awaiting us at" 

 the appointed tryst. 



The mid-day sun was now lighting up the scene after a 

 morning of mist and rain ; to the left lay the town of San 

 Lucar, with its ancient castle looming above the white 



