362 Unexplored Spain 
This, coupled with constant drip from the gigantic pinsdpos and 
a bitter wind blowing through clothes already soaked, was 
well, comfortless and pretty hopeless to boot. Twice the dogs 
gave tongue—and it could be nothing but ibex here; while D., 
who was posted on the left, heard the rattling of hoofs as a herd 
passed within, as he reckoned, 200 yards. A second lot, followed 
by dogs, was heard though not seen on the extreme right. The 
pinsdpos at this season, and in such weather, form a favourite 
resort, for we saw more sign hereabouts than on the high tops. 
A levante wind in winter always means mist—and failure. 
The ibex in winter hold the high ground unless driven down 
by snow. In spring and summer they come lower—even to cork- 
oak levels—presumably to avoid contact with tame goats, then 
pasturing on the tops. 
The east wind and fog continuing a whole week, though we 
tried all we knew, every effort was frustrated by atmospheric 
obstruction. To drive ibex successfully, the skilled training of 
the dogs is essential. Formerly there were goat-herds who 
possessed clever dogs of great local repute. But these days of 
“‘free-shooting ”” have passed away, and the ibex of Bermeja with 
those of other Spanish sierras have recently fallen under the 
beneficent eegis of “ protection.” 
Bird-life in winter is scarce. We noticed a few redwings 
feeding on berries; jays, partridges, and many wood-pigeons 
picking up acorns. Vultures rarely appear here, but both golden 
and Bonelli’s eagles were observed, and in one mountain- 
gorge a pair of lammergeyers have their stronghold, where 
in 1891 we examined both their eyries, one containing a young 
Gypaetus as big as a turkey. That was in March, at which 
season hawfinches abounded in the pines, and at dawn the melody 
of the blue thrush recalled Scandinavian springs and the redwing’s 
song. Another small bird caused recurrent annoyance while ibex- 
driving. With a loud “Rat, tat, tat,” resembling the patter of 
horny hoofs on rock, its song commences; then follows a hissing 
note as of a heavy body passing through brushwood—for an 
instant one expects the coveted game to appear. No, confound 
that bird! it’s only a blackstart. 
We extract the following scene from Wild Spain :— 
On the lifting of a cloud-bank which rested on the mountain-side, 
I descried four ibex standing on a projecting rock in bold relief about 
