Canarios buried here at the time of the conquest, we may be sure that within memory of their traditions this lava stream had not flowed. As we near the cemetery we see that the natural irregularities of the lava are still further increased by art. Every few yards there is a pile of cinder-stones, some round, some oblong, some square, and varying in size from twelve to sixteen feet. They are only a few-from two to four-feet in height above the surrounding lava, and are very irregular in shape, the top being nearly as broad as the bottom. Some of the graves were open, when one could see a space of sufficient length in which to place a body. In some there are bones and skulls, in others nothing but dust. Round the body are placed small stones, and upon these rest large masses of lava, forming a hollow space, and at the same time covering the corpse. These are again covered by stones, or rather pieces of lava, of varied size and shape. Some have red stones upon them, a kind of sandstone found in the neighbourhood, and it may be that these are the graves of the chieftains. That the Guanches and their language should have been so completely destroyed or absorbed, is a matter of deep regret, though scarcely of wonder, when we remember who were their conquerors. I always feel, when speaking of this matter, that the present inhabitants of the islands represent the Guanches, for they are a very different people on the whole from the Spaniards of the Peninsula. Either their insulated position, their partial descent from the Guanches, or their mixing with and preserving many of the customs and habits of that race, any one of these or all together, have produced a completely different race in character and appearance, with which the Peninsular Spaniards will ill bear comparison. The view towards Aldea is magnificent. A massive headland in the foreground drops perpendicularly into the sea, while next to and beyond it is the Punta de la Aldea, rising high near the land, and dropping by degrees until it reaches the sea, the outline torn, jagged, and serrated, one mass of teeth, like the Dent du Midi in Switzerland, or Troltinderne in Norway. Crossing the river, near the source of which we had been this morning in El Valle, and on whose banks grow some tall and stately palms, we ascend a low hill, and half-way stop and turn to look at the scene stretched around. The setting sun is shining on the mountains and point of Aldea, bringing them out in clear and beautiful relief. Over the sea the sun itself is going down amid an array of attendant clouds in gorgeous attire, bewildering by their beauty, and distracting, as they rapidly robe and disrobe in every colour and shade imaginable. Teide rises high in the air like a peaked cloud, far above the distractions of earth. Leftwards the moon is high in the sky over El Valle. Silence reigns, and at our feet lie the buried Guanches. Teide gradually disappears behind the clouds of night, and the moon watches over the tombs of the sleeping warriors. And so as we turn "One more day Drops in the shadowy gulf of bygone things." CHAPTER XXIX. AGAETE—ALDEA-ARTENARA—TEJEDA. Hardly we breathe, although the air be free; THOMAS DOUBLEDAY. WE set out next morning on our journey. It had been raining, but the clouds cleared away. We soon reached a narrow road or path cut out of a precipice, immediately above the sea. Perpendicular cliffs towered above, and 465 feet below the sea broke against the rocks. We are walking along a ledge scarcely four feet wide, but the path is so level and firm, that although there is no protection between us and the sea, we do not realise the danger, for to us it seems broad compared with others over which we have ridden. My horse insists, as usual, upon walking near the edge, but I am on the inside this time, therefore safe. It is a fine, nay, a magnificent ride. The rain has disappeared, the sun is shining, the air exhilarating. The good mare-Don Sebastian's-feels this as well as I, and dances until I give her rein and let her canter along the ledge. Presently we descended into a steep and narrow barranco, the bottom dedicated to a solitary palm tree, a hawk, a humming-bird moth, and a stream trickling downwards. The back-ground is formed by a magnificent escalade of escarped mountain, El Pinar, some 3,000 or 4,000 feet high. We now came to a wall rock, similar to the one near the Pico de los Muchachos, in Palma, but not so perfect. Its summit was 650 feet above the sea, towards which it ran. The road descended once more into another barranco, at the foot of the majestic El Pinar, out of which we ascended by a steep cutting, until 750 feet above the sea. The path now became a little narrower, but we were near its end, and after again descending, we turned a corner, when a valley, more like an enclosure surrounded by an amphitheatre of hills, came in sight. Into this we descended. Two large barrancos and several smaller ones enter the Valley of El Risco. The land quite at the bottom is cultivated by the owners no doubt of the two houses situated there. Beautiful bright yellow flowers, growing in wild profusion, found, we were told, in but few places, tempted us to pluck them. As we entered the valley, we turned away from the sea, and advanced in a south-easterly direction inland up the main barranco. The sides are not very precipitous, comparatively speaking, but are completely bare, save for balo and euphorbia intermixed with stones. As we proceeded up the barranco we came to a little green plateau, so fresh and green, that water must be near the surface. We rode up another barranco, leading out of the main, and containing six giant boulders. Thence we ascended the face of a rock very steep, and with very insecure footing, for there was no regular path. Here we met a man and woman with a donkey, coming perhaps from a few huts we saw on the hillside. The top of the mountains are wooded, chiefly with pines. As we got higher we rode upon a ridge, only some twenty feet in width, along which the path led. We reached the top and end of this at 2.15 p.m., and found we were 1,450 feet above the sea, and had left the Valley of El Risco behind. Small shrubs of camomile abound everywhere, and there is vegetation cropping up on all sides among the stones. The road was now nothing better than a goat-track. An hour later we reached the summit, a pile of stones surmounted by a small cross, 2,300 feet above the sea, and overlooking the Valley of Aldea, a flat plain conducted seawards by ranges of mountains on each side. Our path lay down a steep cliff at the upper end of a narrow valley. I was. pretty well used to bad paths by this time, but when we began (3.35 p.m.) to descend this, I felt my only chance of not being precipitated to the bottom lay in the mare. The path wandered down the hillside, twisting and turning as seemed best to it in avoiding the boulders and rocks and stones that lay scattered around. The track itself was about one foot wide, and frequently dropped in uneven steps, varying in depth from six inches to twenty. The mare never hesitated, walking down quickly and boldly, but I must confess I only drew a free breath at the bottom. No animals unaccustomed to the path could have carried us safely. The cliffs on the north side were entirely covered with euphorbia, while those on the south had none. Opposite, the mountains which terminate in the Punta de la Aldea present striking and magnificent outlines. As we reached the bottom of the ravine, we found some houses nestling under the shelter of its crags. Crossing the barranco of Fure, which was waterless, we rode along a narrow path, past a farm built on the very edge of the barranco, its walls seeming dangerously placed upon crumbly soil above the edge of the river-bed. Plenty of cows around, and a big threshing-floor, testify to the well-to-do-ness of the farmer. We continued down the barranco, passing many houses or hovels, with mud roofs, and quantities of breso and euphorbia. It was now getting late, and our guide, a servant of Don Sebastian's, without saying a word, left us, and ascending the south side of the barranco for a short distance, hastened onwards by what we supposed was a short cut. We rather wondered at being thus left, but concluded he would turn up further along. We had now reached the end of the barranco and the mountains which bound it on either side, and beheld in the fast-growing darkness the large barranco of Aldea. The setting sun had flushed the sky over the mountains a rosy pink, while to the eastward the heavens were entirely lit up by the reflection. Meanwhile on tramped the animals, whither we did not know, for no one but ourselves was to be seen in the vast expanse. The barranco, or at any rate the stony ground, extended for some half-mile in width, and without the vestige of a path across its barren surface. There was nothing else to do but give the animals their own way. They led us straight across the stony plain, winding in and out among some boulders, to cultivated ground, then took a turn to the left leading towards lights that were apparently issuing from a village; before reaching it, however, they again turned to the left down a lane, the approach to a solitary house standing in mid-valley. Here we Here we were courteously |