﻿78 
  

  

  THE 
  NATIONAL 
  GEOGRAPHIC 
  MAGAZINE 
  

  

  Photograph 
  by 
  Casa 
  Lux 
  

  

  HERALDS 
  OE 
  THE 
  TOWN 
  HALL 
  OE 
  BILBAO 
  

  

  Like 
  the 
  "beef-eaters" 
  of 
  the 
  Tower 
  of 
  London 
  and 
  the 
  pictur- 
  

   esque 
  Swiss 
  Guards 
  of 
  the 
  Vatican, 
  these 
  heralds 
  retain 
  their 
  medi- 
  

   eval 
  costumes. 
  Note 
  the 
  coat 
  of 
  arms 
  of 
  Bilbao 
  which 
  they 
  wear. 
  

  

  boiled 
  with 
  just 
  a 
  touch 
  of 
  garlic 
  and 
  cov- 
  

   ered 
  with 
  delicious 
  scarlet 
  sweet 
  peppers, 
  

   while 
  around 
  the 
  sides 
  of 
  the 
  dish 
  were 
  

   garbanzos, 
  giant 
  chick-peas 
  of 
  fine 
  savor. 
  

  

  Before 
  each 
  of 
  us 
  was 
  set 
  a 
  jug 
  of 
  

   chacoli, 
  an 
  excellent 
  white 
  wine 
  of 
  peas- 
  

   ant 
  make. 
  For 
  dessert 
  there 
  were 
  lus- 
  

   cious 
  red 
  plums 
  of 
  Vizcaya. 
  It 
  was 
  a 
  re- 
  

   past 
  that 
  will 
  linger 
  long 
  in 
  my 
  memory. 
  

  

  ( 
  )ne 
  derives 
  a 
  false 
  picture 
  of 
  this 
  cen- 
  

   ter 
  of 
  Basquedom 
  unless 
  the 
  little 
  eight- 
  

   mile 
  side-trip 
  from 
  Bilbao 
  down 
  to 
  the 
  

   sea 
  is 
  taken. 
  Paralleling 
  each 
  side 
  of 
  the 
  

   river 
  is 
  an 
  electric 
  tramway, 
  and 
  paral- 
  

   leling 
  each 
  of 
  these 
  in 
  turn 
  is 
  a 
  steam 
  

   railway. 
  

  

  Town 
  after 
  town 
  is 
  

   to 
  be 
  seen 
  on 
  the 
  way. 
  

   Along 
  the 
  left 
  bank 
  

   of 
  the 
  Nervion 
  ship- 
  

   building 
  yards 
  are 
  

   succeeded 
  by 
  i 
  m- 
  

   mense 
  iron 
  foundries 
  

   and 
  smelters, 
  and 
  

   dozens 
  of 
  steamers 
  

   are 
  tied 
  up 
  alongside 
  

   these 
  industrial 
  plants, 
  

   all 
  combining 
  to 
  fill 
  

   the 
  air 
  with 
  the 
  smoke 
  

   of 
  man's 
  activities. 
  

  

  The 
  pretty 
  green 
  

   hillsides 
  far 
  beyond 
  

   the 
  river 
  are 
  marred 
  

   here 
  and 
  there 
  by 
  

   patches 
  of 
  reddish 
  

   brown 
  color, 
  where, 
  

   in 
  the 
  distance, 
  can 
  be 
  

   seen 
  the 
  puff 
  of 
  the 
  

   little 
  locomotives 
  of 
  

   the 
  ore 
  trains, 
  and 
  oc- 
  

   casionally 
  the 
  rumble 
  

   of 
  a 
  dynamite 
  explo- 
  

   sion 
  is 
  heard. 
  These 
  

   are 
  the 
  mines, 
  and 
  

   from 
  many 
  of 
  them, 
  

   stretching 
  for 
  miles 
  

   through 
  the 
  air, 
  to 
  the 
  

   loading 
  berths 
  on 
  the 
  

   river, 
  are 
  aerial 
  ca- 
  

   bles, 
  to 
  which 
  are 
  fas- 
  

   tened 
  buckets 
  full 
  of 
  

   red 
  ore 
  moving 
  con- 
  

   tinually 
  from 
  mine 
  to 
  

   river, 
  with 
  parallel 
  

   cables 
  carrying 
  back 
  

   the 
  "empties" 
  to 
  the 
  

   far-away 
  brown 
  

   patches 
  on 
  the 
  hillside. 
  

  

  THE 
  ELYING 
  EERRY 
  

  

  The 
  river 
  winds 
  its 
  way 
  between 
  these 
  

   rich 
  hills, 
  and 
  finally, 
  rounding 
  a 
  corner, 
  

   the 
  sea 
  comes 
  suddenly 
  into 
  view. 
  The 
  

   strong 
  sea 
  breezes 
  of 
  the 
  Biscay 
  blow 
  

   away 
  the 
  smudgy 
  fog 
  of 
  industry, 
  and 
  

   one 
  emerges 
  again 
  into 
  Sunny 
  Spain. 
  

  

  At 
  each 
  side 
  of 
  the 
  river 
  mouth 
  is 
  a 
  

   town 
  — 
  Portugalete 
  ,on 
  the 
  left 
  and 
  Las 
  

   Arenas 
  on 
  the 
  right. 
  A 
  beautiful 
  and 
  

   unusual 
  bridge, 
  connecting 
  the 
  two, 
  forms 
  

   a 
  fitting 
  monument 
  to 
  mark 
  the 
  union 
  of 
  

   the 
  Nervion 
  with 
  the 
  waters 
  of 
  the 
  At- 
  

   lantic. 
  It 
  is 
  called 
  the 
  Puente 
  Trasbor- 
  

   dador 
  (see 
  illustration, 
  page 
  84). 
  

  

  