The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1900-05-13


scape with peaceful white. in England
and America; they only intensity the pre-
vailing reddish brown with restless shad-
ings of deeper hue. The ugly brown sheep
are tended by shepherd boys. or rather by
shepherd dogs. which do the actual work
while their lazy masters loaf and invite
their souls with the aid Of the sIesta, the
guitar, the cigarette and the garlic pud-
ding. Farther UP great fiocks of goats
browse among the cliffs and along the
Drinks of ravines where IL looks impossi-
BILE for the tiny hoofs to find a foothold.
They are closely followed by short-skirted
shepherdesses as fearless and sure-footed
as they, but the girls are shod with hempen
soes. which are not slippery like boot
leather and cling better than bare toes
frequent sight is that of some rascally
peasant, whom one longs to beat. helping
himself along the weary upward trail by
holding fast TO his donkey's tail as the
poor little beast, always loaded to the limit
of endurance. scrambles up the zigzag
sleeps. AT intervals little booths are met
built in recesses of the cliffs that border
the mountain pass like cupboards hewn out
of solid rock. On narrow ledge bottles of
wine and goats milk are set for sale. and
overhead In nets hang oranges, grapes and
garlic. Another sight more frequent and
less agreeable is that of wooden crosses.
each surrounded by cairn of stones and
marking the scene of some poor travellers
murder by banditti
CLIMBING THE SIERRAS.
The scene grows wilder and grander as
you approach the summit The Sierra
1.I
quivir from that of the Guadiana. The
railway is a fine specimen of engineering
English, / believe), often climbing along
shelf of rock overhanging dizzy precipices
winding in and out among fantastic cliffs
and caverns an ideal lurking place for
knights of the road AT point the train
runs through a wild and savage gorge
named Despenaperros-"Pitch the Dogs
Over" Doubtless the singular title was
bestowed in memory of some desperate but
row forgotten struggle between Moors and
Christians in days when these mountains
formed a partial barrier between the two
races.
Descending the other side OF the Sierra,
we come at last to the desolate plains OF
La Mancha. familiar to the reading world
as the region where Don Quixote rode his
raw boned steed. While confined in the
prison of one of its secluded villages
Miguel de Cervantes- Saavedra-the greatest
literary genius that Spain ever produced
wrote his immortal satire on the foibles OF
a decaying era of chivalry. Better than
guide-book to this part of Spain is copy
of Don Quixote, which you may buy In any
Spanish shop. Cervantes sketched from
nature with art intensely realistic. Except
in the character of the Don himself. which
no doubt fitted those times to perfection,
every detail of the story written in the last
quarter of the sixteenth century, can be
distinctly traced and verified at the present
day. Such an accurate pen-artist of local
scenes was he, and so little has the country
changed in four hundred years, that you
may easily follow the footprints of the
knight of the sorrowful countenance." Here
is Tobasio, the home of the 'never-to-be-
enough-admred Dulcinea" Ycnder is the
venta de Quesada. where the mad knight
received the accolade. The lakes OF Ruy-
dera and the cave of Montesinos are still
the same; and so are the muleteers and the
wine-skins the flooks of sheep tended by
shepherds, and the windmills swinging
their mighty arms they grind the crop
just as in Cervantes's day. In changing
cars at Manzanares you have couple of
hours to wait in the immediate vicinity of
Quixotes most famous exploits. Here is
the inn where he was knighted. and before
its door swineherd, who may be a lineal
descendant of the warder of the story, still
winds his horn. It's old, old well continues
to afford water TO vagrant muleteers, sue
cessors to the unfortunate whose head was
broken for disturbing the madman's vigil.
Jypon the edge of the we'll is a deep linden
tation, believed to have been made by the
armor of Don Quixote. The stone must
have been softer than it is now. or his
armor wonderfully hard to have been
thrown down with such tremendous vio-
Ience as to make so plain mark! Skeptics
may incline to the belief that the stone has
been worn away in the course of centuries
by the constant procession OF animals led
up to drink, but 1T would never do TO hint
such heresy here. All Spaniards regard
Cervantes's romance as Holy Writ. to
.'swear by" and the more ignorant classes
believe its every detail to be strictly true.
SAME THAT oUIXOTE KNEW.
We find La Mancha almost as wild and
uncultivated to-day as in Quixotes time
The railway to Merida lies along plateau.
two thousand feet above the sea, where
towns are few and people are fewer. The
native Manchegan wears the same sheep
skin suit which has faithfully served his
ancestors two or three generations. His
home is mud hovel, which a respectable
American mule would refuse TO enter; and
from the cradle to the Campo Santo, his
vision is greeted by the same dull, monot-
onous landscape, void of verdure and
glaring with sand and nitre. Yet despite
his poverty and unattractive surroundings
he is one of the merriest of mortals. Find
ing extreme difficulty in keeping his thin
body and cramped soul together, one would
hardly suppose that such miserable being
would have much opportunity or capacity
for enjoyment, but. happily, the good Lord
has gagged to their conditions the ideas Of
races that have always been poor. A
Manchegan family feast like kings on a
crusty loaf and handful Of onions; and
the head thereof can imagine no greater
additional luxury than TO bask, half asleep,
all day in the sun. smoking cigarettes that
cost half a cent the package. The women
do the little work that is done, and the
children. enveloped in a thick coating of
lfrt hot al, ~ uyffh