TOILSOME TRAVELLING.

103

alongside a rock on the seaward side of the bar, but, owing to the swell, it could not be brought within several feet of the rock. A couple of men jumped ashore, and by their aid we jumped too, arriving, baggage and all, without a ducking. Scrambling and jumping along the rocks, we reached the shore. Here, in a sheltered position, lie a few huts and fishing boats. Hills, black with lava, shut them in on all sides. Of course, no horses were to be seen, so, leaving our luggage with Lorenzo to look after it, we started along with the patrón, walking, for Valverde. A shrub grew abundantly where we landed, called both carcosa and vinagreda (Rumex lunaria) by the natives, who did not appear certain of its name. It is a round-shaped bush, with tough, glabrous leaves, the solitary clumps being several feet in height. Dotted here and there all over the incline, it imparted a distinct feature to the landscape. Cattle browse upon and like its leaves. A zigzag path led up a cinder-strewn hill on the left. The climb was toilsome, especially as we had not eaten since the morning. Our breakfast then consisted of fish, sweet potatoes, and an oily mixture by way of gravy. Hunger is good sauce, so we managed a hearty meal, sauce and all. Having reached 650 feet of altitude, we rested for a few minutes, then started again. Another rest at 1,150 feet; when at 1,600 feet, we struck the direct path to Valverde, situated on the top of the island.

Hierro is approached in quite a different fashion from the other islands. All its sides are precipitous. There is but little littoral, and that is surrounded by precipices. Consequently the towns or villages are on a plateau in mid-island. Valverde, the principal town-a collection of a few houses, more deserving the name of village-is four miles and a-half from its port and a couple of miles from El Rio, the ascent in each case being abrupt.

The patrón tried to persuade us to put up for the night at a house he recommended. However, the priest of Hierro had kindly offered us his house and hospitality when we met him at Laguna, where he had gone to consult a doctor, there being none on his island. Walking through the clean little town late in the evening, we were the subjects of much curi

osity to the villagers, to whom strangers are unknown. The patrón was constantly asked if we were francéses, the last visitors to the island having been French, and ingleses never having been seen before. We arrived at the priest's house at 6.45 p.m., to find he had not returned from Tenerife, and that his housekeeper was totally ignorant of us or the worthy padre's promised hospitality. It is needless to say that on Hierro there is not an inn of any sort, so that we could not simply turn away and go elsewhere. The good woman knew this as well as we did, so invited us to enter, and she would give us what she could. A horse had been meanwhile requisitioned and despatched for our luggage. Pending its arrival, we were supplied with supper, such as could be procured at a moment's notice. We were lodged in the priest's room, I think, a very comfortable apartment, although the bed measured, of course, but three feet in width. The sala opened off it. The walls were more than two feet thick, so coolness was ensured. As in most Spanish houses, no means of washing was supplied in the bedroom, it being a very general custom to have one room for washing, where everybody goes for that purpose.

After the tossing of the schooner, we slept luxuriously until seven o'clock next morning, though we had intended starting as early as possible for El Pinar. While waiting the arrival of our two mules and a horse, we noticed the curiouslooking church, just below the priest's house. It has a low tower, with a mosque-like dome, the sides of which are painted a vivid blue and brick-red in streaks. A wooden balcony runs round the tower beneath the clock. Beyond and around is the town of Valverde, lying in a semicircle of hills, the houses curving round and climbing up and down them. The houses are not in rows, but scattered. Never more than four are clumped together. Some have flat roofs, and some the usual red half-pipe tiles. The walls are whitewashed, the wooden shutters, as a rule, unpainted. A great deal of greenery is agreeably mixed up with the houses. Towards the south-east the valley slopes to the sea, most of the houses facing that way; north-east a rounded hill hides the view, and shelters the town on that side. A small square, into which the priest's house abuts, lies in front of the church,