Valencia 2.5 
keeper. Hence trespass is impossible. During autumn and up 
to the first shoot never a human form intrudes upon the deserted 
rice-grounds ; and the enormous assemblages of wildfowl which 
at that season congregate thereon enjoy uninterrupted peace and 
security up to mid-November. More favourable conditions it is 
impossible to conceive—on the Albufera, for example, the fowl 
are liable to constant disturbance by passing boats, etc. 
The first shoot of the year takes place about the date just 
named, November 15, and is repeated every eighth day thereafter 
up to the middle of January, when the rice-grounds are run dry. 
Upon the completion of the auction sales there is announced 
a definite day and hour at which (and at which only) the lessor 
is permitted to enter the rice-grounds, in order to prepare his 
shelter. Should he omit or neglect this opportunity, he is not 
afterwards allowed to touch it until the actual morning of the 
shooting. 
Since there grows on rice-grounds no natural cover whatever, 
it is essential to prepare some form of screen or shelter, and the 
reeds or sedges required for the purpose must be brought from 
elsewhere. 
Across each replaza, or conceded space, is erected a double 
line of screens, two yards apart and carefully masked by a fringe 
of reeds or rice-stalks. In the intervening “lane” are fixed two 
or more sunken tubs wherein the shooters can sit concealed. 
Hardly has midnight struck on that eventful morn than the 
world is amove. Highways and byways, on land and water, are 
crowded by mobilising forces ; across the dark waters move forth 
whole squadrons of boats, punts and launches, each one steering a 
course towards some far-away replaza. Absolute silence reigns. 
No lights are allowed and no sound shocks the mystery of night 
save the creaking of punt-pole or lapping of wave—no human 
sound, that is, for “the night is filled with music”; the pall 
overhead, the unseen wastes on every side are vocal with wild- 
fowl cries. Continuously the still air is rent and cleft by the rush 
of myriad pinions. From right and left, before and behind, pass 
hurrying hosts, their violent flight resonant as the wash of an 
angry sea. But never a shotis fired. That is against the rules. 
Shortly before sunrise the note of a bugle announces to 
hundreds of impatient ears the signal “ Open fire,” and in that 
instant the fusillade from far and near rages like a battle. For a 
