The portion of the house reserved for himself and family consists but of two rooms on the ground-floor. The outer and larger of these serves the double purpose of a kitchen and refectory; the other is appropriated to the multifarious offices of a chapel, dormitory, henroost, and granary. In this inner room we were duly installed,—the lady de Castro, and other members of the family, removing into a neighbouring choza during our stay: and a sheet having been drawn over the Virgin and child, the cocks and hens driven from the rafters, and the Indian corn swept up into a corner, we found ourselves more snugly lodged than outward appearances had led us to expect.
Leaving our friend Damien to make what arrangements he pleased as to dinner—a discretional power that always afforded him infinite gratification—we proceeded to examine the “location,” with a view of obtaining some notion of the country which was to be the scene of our next day’s sporting operations.
The situation of the Casería is singularly romantic; to the north it is backed by a richly wooded slope, above which, at the distance of about half a mile, a rocky ledge of sierra rises perpendicularly several hundred feet, its dark outline serving as a fine relief to the rich and varied green tints of the forest. In the opposite direction, the house commands a view over a wide and partially wooded valley, along the bed of which the eye occasionally catches a glimpse of a sparkling stream, that is collected from the various dark ravines which break the lofty mountain-ridges on either side. A wooded range, steep, but of somewhat less elevation than the other mountains that the eye embraces, appears to close the mouth of this valley; but, winding round its foot to the right, the stream gains a narrow outlet to the extensive plain of Vejer, and empties itself into the Laguna de la Janda—a portion of which may be seen; and over this intermediate range rise, in the distance, the peaked summits of the Sierra de la Plata, whose southern base is washed by the Atlantic.
The beauty of the scenery, heightened by the broad shadows cast upon the mountains, and the varied tints that ever attend upon a setting sun in this Elysian atmosphere, had tempted us to continue roaming about, selecting the most favourable points of view, without once thinking of our evening meal; and when, at length, the sun disappeared behind the mountains, we found we had, unconsciously, wandered some considerable distance from the Casería. We forthwith bent our steps homewards, and, on drawing near the house, were not a little amused at hearing Damien’s stentorian halloos to draw our attention, which were sent back to him in echoes from all parts of the Serranía. He was right glad to see us, though vexed at our extreme imprudence in wandering about the woods without an escopeta, or defensive weapon of any sort amongst us.
“Messieurs, quand vous connoitrez ces gens çi aussi bien que moi——!”
We referred to Don Luis (who had come out with the intention of proceeding in search of us), whether there were any mala gente in the neighbourhood. A faint smile played about the old man’s mouth as he looked towards Damien, as if guessing the source from which our interrogation had sprung, and, then waving his right hand to and fro, with the forefinger extended upwards, he replied, “Por aqui Caballeros no hay mala gente alguna; esa Canalla conoce demasiado quien es Luis de Castro!”[103]
On entering the house, we found a large party assembled round the charcoal fire, preparing to take their evening gazpacho[104] caliente; and, hot as had been the day, we gladly joined the circle, until our own more substantial supper should be announced. The group consisted of the wife, son, and daughter-in-law of our host, and several of his friends, who, living at a distance, had come overnight, to be ready to take part in the batida on the following morning.
A batida bears so strong a resemblance to the same sort of thing common in Germany, and indeed in some parts of Scotland, that a very detailed account of one would be uninteresting to most of my readers. We turned out at daybreak, and, recruited by the neighbouring peasantry, found that we mustered twenty-three guns, and dogs innumerable, mostly of a kind called by the Spaniards podencos, for which the most appropriate term in our language is lurcher; though that does not altogether express the strong-made, wiry-haired dog used by the Spaniards on these occasions.
As the camas[105] about Sanona are very wide, and require a number of guns to line them, only eleven of the men could be spared for beaters. These were placed under the direction of Alonzo, our host’s son, whilst Don Luis himself took command of the sportsmen in the quality of capitan; and his first order was to prohibit all squibbing off of guns, by which the game might be disturbed.