My

and ingenuity were exercised in passing each other. horse was led close to the rock, and brought to a standstill when the laden horses and mules were led past, foot by foot, with extreme carefulness. The heat was terrific, men and horses being so wet that the water ran off them. It was an awe-inspiring ride. The Virgen de la Peña, on the summit, As we was reached at 3.15 p.m., 2,200 feet above the sea. stand on the top, we can look immediately down on the path beneath. We began the ascent above the Punta Grande, and finished it only a hundred yards or so to the northward, so that the path zigzagged between two almost perpendicular lines. The chapel of the Virgen de la Peña is a little. enclosure built and covered over, with a small image of the Virgin inside, adorned with flowers. A door is in the wall, and in it a grating, into which the passers-by have stuck red geraniums and pieces of pine. We only stayed for a few minutes; men and horses were too hot to delay in the breeze.

We were once more on the plateau which runs from one end of Hierro to the other. The country is tolerably flat here, and well populated for this island. The houses are thatched, and appear fairly good, and the farms well-to-do. We crossed a barranco that was one immense rock, in which a groove had been cut by the water. Numbers of birds, speckled brown with white-grey breasts, flew about. The men of this part were not so dark as in the Golfo, and wore more hair on their faces, "mutton-chop" whiskers being the fashion on the island. The men are tall, but loosely knit, and this style of wearing the hair gives them a sheepish, out-of-the-world look. They are open-faced, and, as a rule, both men and women have bright and clear complexions. The hair is not generally black, but dark brown. They are gentle and pleasant in manner, and quite capable of seeing and appreciating fun. They are not at all as grave as the Tenerifians, from which I should infer that there is more unadulterated Guanche blood left in Hierro than in Tenerife.

The Montaña de la Torre, which faces us, is like a piece of paper which has been caught up in the middle and the hand drawn downwards, crushing it, so seamed are the sides. Near

A

it we found in blossom the winter savoury,* called by the natives albahaca. Some houses near, going by the name of Casas del Monte, we reached at 4.30, and found the height 2,000 feet, so there is little variation on the plateau. whole family was outside, engaged in domestic occupations, forming quite a picture. The women and girls were sewing, and the men and boys chopping wood and making brooms.

A field of cochineal that we passed was gathered in, the harvest over. There is not a great deal of the unsightly cochineal cactus in Hierro, so the reaction which set in was not much felt by the islanders. On the other hand,

there is no sign of the island having benefited by the sudden influx of wealth which cochineal brought generally to the archipelago. There are no public works half finished, and no large houses going to decay. All is poverty. The inhabitants are peasants, and the best of them are still but well-to-do peasants. Very pleasant are they, straightforward and gentle, exceedingly like the descriptions we read of them in the few sentences that are contained in the MSS. which were written on the islands.

We reached the foot of the Montaña de Tenesedra at 5.10 p.m., having been steadily descending, for the height

was

now only 1,600 feet. Passing along the side of a cultivated valley, we crossed it. Immense fig trees abounded everywhere, gourds crept over the ground, and potatoes were showing green. The September crop, however, is only used for seed. This district, called Calzada de Pinto, has a great deal of grazing land, though just now, being the end of the summer, everything is brown. The view opened, and we saw Echeydo, a number of houses sheltered by a hill above. Soon after we passed a cross fastened in a stone, Del Calbaris (? Calvario), as well as we could understand the name, also near this a fuente, or spring. We noticed here that when goats are grazing they are tethered by a rope, run through a hole made in the horn.

About six in the evening we found ourselves once more in Valverde, where the priest's housekeeper welcomed us, and soon after a young priest coming in, we had supper together.

*Satureia montana.

After supper we found there was a sort of tertulia* being held in the sala for our benefit. I do not know who were present, but there were several men and women, the most respectable evidently in Valverde. They were very anxious to know where we had been, and what we had seen in the islands, and why we came. They got their information very much more easily than we got ours, for they knew nothing of anything we wished to ascertain. All agreed in saying that there were still immense lizards to be found at the Punta de

la Dehesa.

Later informants deny it; and as we did not see them, I fear I must leave that matter where I found it, wrapped in obscurity. Some day I hope to clear it up by personal inspection.

The Virgin of the Conception is the patroness of the church at Valverde. The paintings on the walls are by one Marcos Machin, a native of the island. The same style of roof and beams is here as in the church at San Sebastian, but this is larger. The side chapels, which have octagon roofs, with floors of red tiles and stones in a square pattern, are Unpremeditated evening party.

*

dedicated to the Virgin of Carmel and St. Augustine. The paint on the woodwork is meant to represent white marble. The chancel is painted to imitate red curtains, and in the uncertain light is not a bad imitation. An old wooden trapdoor in the floor leads to the vaults. The priest led us up into the belfry, where, besides a bell with a cross upon it, there is also a clock. There is a view of the town from some old balconies outside, but, owing to the church lying lower than the priest's house, we had as good a one from his azotea.

On our way next morning to the port, which lies about four and a-half miles from Valverde, we passed the cemetery, which is not large, and is surrounded by high walls. All the cemeteries are thus enclosed, for what reason I do not know, unless that the dead may be hidden from sight, anything reminding man of mortality being particularly repugnant to his mind. The sea lay in the distance far below, the coast and rocks not being visible. Suddenly, however, the road turned sharply to the right; and below us lay the port. It was a bird'seye view, as the road, although now close to the sea, was some distance above it, the descent being steep and abrupt. Immediately beneath lies a little white house, at the extreme edge of the rocks. A rocky point runs out at right angles to the shore, forming a one-sided bay. Under the shelter of the rocks, riding calmly at anchor, lies our schooner. Northwards craggy points run into the sea, forming numberless little bays. Rough and jagged is the coast, the precipices guarding the island from the wild fury of an unrestrained Atlantic.

The coming and going of the schooner are the sole events of the week to the Herreños. Hierro is certainly the most solitary of all the islands. Rarely is the rest of the group visible to her inhabitants. She is out of the beaten track, her commerce is very small, and her visitors few. We were told by all we met that no English-speaking person had ever been there before.

Once more we set sail and bade adieu to a spot in the ocean which had given us much pleasure—solitary, happy, singular Hierro, as far as the outside world is concerned,

"Sacred to silence and the solemn sea.

CHAPTER XIII.

SAN SEBASTIAN-NATIVE DANCES.

The strength, the industry, and the civilisation of nations-all depend upon individual character; and the very foundations of civil security rest upon it. Laws and institutions are but its outgrowth.-SMILES.

If you wish a thing done, go; if not, send.-Old English Proverb.

WE slowly loitered on our way back to Gomera-for our sailing was little else-and we had every opportunity to admire the rugged outline of the island. The man steering was a very fair specimen of the natives of Tenerife. His dress consisted of trousers originally of white duck, but patching being necessary, a strip of dark blue, six inches long by two wide, had been inserted on the knee of the right leg, and on the back patches of blue and white check, brown, yellow, and a circular spot of olive-green. He was guiltless of foot-covering. His jacket was a loose blue blouse, patched with white, his hat black felt, with the centre of the crown open to the air. Notwithstanding this remarkable attire, his oval-shaped face, closely cropped hair, black moustache, and dainty cigarette between his lips, lent him the refinement of a gentleman, and in point of politeness he outdid many of those who call themselves gentlemen.

We had sailed from Hierro on Friday, September 28th, and it was nearly three o'clock on Saturday before we sighted the square, white fort on San Cristobal. A strong breeze now caught us, and we ran along very merrily, but had to tack several times before we could run into the bay. There is always a breeze here, so it is at all times possible to sail close to the town. The approach to San Sebastian from the north is much prettier than from the south, doubtless because one