On holidays and Sundays the women, especially those who are on their way to Mass, wore their white cashmere mantillas, and I inquired whether this also had any connection with “Our Lady’s” month of May, but I was told in old days they were the almost universal head-dress, a fashion which unfortunately is fast dying out. This appeared to be the only distinctively local feature of their dress, and the usual head-dress of the women and children, with bright-coloured handkerchiefs folded closely round the forehead and knotted in the nape of the neck, is common to all the islands. When the family is in mourning even the smallest member of the household wears a black handkerchief matching its bright black eyes, but the day I fear is fast approaching when battered straw hats will take their place, not the jaunty little round hats with black-bound brims, which every country woman wears to act as a pad for the load she carries on her head. For generations the women have carried water-pots and baskets which many an English working man would consider a crushing load, and no one can fail to admire their splendid carriage and upright bearing, as they stride along never even steadying their load with one hand. The only peculiarity of the men’s dress is their blanket cloaks; in some of the islands they are made of mantas woven from native wool, but as often as not an imported blanket is used, gathered into a leather or black velvet collar at the neck. On a chilly evening in a mountain village every man and boy is closely wrapped in his manta, often it must be owned in an indescribable state of filth. At night they do duty as a blanket on the bed, and in the day are dragged through dust or mud, but cleanliness is not regarded in Spanish cottages, where chickens, goats, and sometimes a pig all seem to share the common living-room.
AN OLD GATEWAY
I fear the few model dwellings which the tourist is invited to inspect at Atalaya (the Watch Tower) are not true samples of the average cottage or cave-dwelling. Atalaya was formerly a native stronghold, and one can quite imagine what formidable resistance the invaders must have met with from these primitive fortresses. The narrow ledges cut in the face of the cliffs made the approach to them almost inaccessible except to the Canarios, who appear to have been as agile as goats, and from the narrow openings showers of missiles could be hurled at the attackers. Atalaya at the present time is the home of the pottery makers. They fashion the local clay into pots with a round stone in just as primitive a way as did the ancient Canarios. They seem to live a life apart, and are regarded with suspicion by their neighbours, who rarely intermarry with them. The whole colony are inveterate beggars, old and young alike, but as tourists invade their domain in order to say they have seen “the most perfect collection of troglodyte dwellings in the Archipelago,” and request them to mould pots for their edification, it is perhaps not surprising that they expect some reward.
X
GRAND CANARY (continued)
Those who do not mind a long day and really early start can see a good deal of the country and make some very beautiful expeditions without facing the terrors of the native inn. When even our guide-book—and the writer of a guide-book is surely bound to make the best of things—warns the traveller that the “accommodation is poor,” or that “arrangements can be made to secure beds,” every one knows what to expect. So a long day, however tiring, is preferable, if it is possible to return the same night.
A drive of two hours leads to San Mateo, where good accommodation would be a great boon, as it is a great centre for expeditions, besides being beautifully situated near chestnut and pine woods. A rough mule track leads in something under three hours to the Cruz de Tejeda, which is about the finest excursion in the island. Good walkers will probably prefer to trust their own legs rather than the mule’s; but it is a stiff climb, as the starting-point, San Mateo, is only some 2600 ft. above the sea, while the Cruz is 5740 ft. Without descending into the deep Barranco which leads down to Tejeda itself, in clear weather the view is magnificent. That most curious isolated rock, the Roque Nublo, stands like a great pillar or obelisk, pointing straight into the heavens, rising 370 ft. above all its surroundings, and more than 6000 ft. above sea-level, and is often clearly visible from Teneriffe. The great valley of Tejeda lies stretched before the traveller, who is surely well rewarded for his climb by the splendid panorama. Deep precipitous ravines full of blue shadows lie in vast succession in front, and to the right the cultivated patches in the valley are a bright emerald green from the young corn, and over the deep blue sea beyond, towers the great Peak of Teneriffe, looking most majestic and awe-inspiring rising above the chain of high mountains which are veiled in a light, mysterious mist. Never, perhaps, is the great height of the mountain so well realised, as it stands crowning a picture which our guide-book tells us is “never to be forgotten, and second to none in Switzerland or the Alps.”
THE CANARY PINE