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THE VENTÉRO OF THE RONDA MOUNTAINS:

AN INCIDENT OF SPANISH TRAVEL.

WITH AN ILLUSTRATION.

OUR excursion from Xeres to the mountains of Andalucia was performed in "calésàs," vehicles very much similar to the old London cabs, without the driver's seat, and of a much slighter construction. They are generally painted all over in the gayest colours, in order, we presume, to attract the attention of the herds of wild cattle roaming about the country, for more than once, during this trip, we remarked various old knowing bulls' eyes ogling us as we passed along, seemingly inclined to indulge in the game of "prisoner's-base," by rushing at the back of our vehicle, whereon was daubed a most extraordinary bouquet of unknown flowers.

It is well known that bulls have a great antipathy to bright-red, and often did we lament being emblazoned à derrière by an unnatural red sun-flower in full bloom.

In addition to this most extraordinary waste of paint these "vehicula" are, for the most part, smothered with brass-headed nails, for what purpose we are at a loss to conjecture, unless, perhaps, they represent votive offerings of successive travellers: we are led to this conclusion from a recollection of the trunk of a tree in the road from St. Stephen's to the "Kamthner Strasse," at Vienna, supposed to be the only one remaining of the "Weener Wald" (a vast forest, which formerly extended to this spot, now the heart of the city), which is now completely bound round with iron-hoops to preserve it. This precaution was rendered necessary on account of the numerous nails driven into it by the wandering Viennese apprentices when setting out in the world to seek their fortunes. It is so completely covered over that there is not now sufficient room to drive a consumptive-pin, so that the trunk has become a tree of iron,-the adjacent parts of the street are in consequence of this called "Stockham Eisen Platz."

"Ventas" in the mountain districts are, for the most part, like huge dog-kennels, constructed of mud, with very low door-ways, although there are, few and far between, exceptions to the general rule.

These smaller sized Ventas are, however, far preferable to the larger ones to be found in villages, and on the high-roads, for there is a deceit about the latter not easily to be forgiven by the weary traveller. They are mostly situated upon elevations, their white walls glittering in the sun, the conical-topped towers dazzling the sight; everything, in fact, promising good cheer and a comfortable night's rest to the beholder. But the weary traveller on entering finds it a complete Jardin des Plantes (without its botanical attractions and smell), being the abode of man and beast, on an unfathomable soil, as difficult to navigate as Chat-moss itself.

The Venta at which we arrived belonged to the humbler class, and was situated in a magnificent valley, watered (except in very dry weather) by a branch of the river Majaceite. At the back of this little miserable hut was a patch of cultivated land, on which some Indian corn was growing in perfection.

VOL. XXVI.

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The surrounding scenery was grand and imposing, hemmed in by mountains overtopping one another, until lost in the wide expanse : the romantic effect of the whole view could scarcely be surpassed. An old Moorish watch-tower hung from an adjoining perpendicular rock, and seemed to speak of the bygone days of chivalry and war. The steep and rugged mule-tracks (apologies for roads, and scarcely even practicable for mules), the haunt of goats and Gibraltar smugglers, appeared like the fibres of some gigantic spider's web. The sweet-scented odours wafted by the cooling breeze, the warbling of the birds offering up their matin-song during the operation of pluming their wings-all suggested to our somewhat-jaded travelling party the prospect of a few hours' welcome repose.

The Ventéro, a tall, thin, muscular-looking old man, with sharp keen eyes, and a scanty crop of grizzled hair, like a badly-thatched barn after a snow-storm, came forth to meet us as the last sound of the hombre conducting the foremost calésà, died away in an oft-repeated echo, "Andàr! andàr! buen cabàllo!"

Before quitting the "Posada Inglesa" at Xeres, we had taken especial care to look to the commissariat; for, be it known, that the frightful exaggerated stories of robbers related to us by an old 66 capatax, "* at whose house we dined the evening before our departure, coupled with the well-known fact, that travellers in Spain fare but badly in the victualling department, unless they have a good caterer with them, urged us to take this precaution.

We were, moreover, armed with two primitive blunderbusses, a brace of pistols, two swords, and-a pound-box of cigars! These latter, in our humble opinion, being by far the best weapons you can use against a Spaniard-provided you do not spare the ammunition.

Thanks to our companion from the Emerald Isle, we did not fare badly, for he had stowed away under the seats of the calésàs, cold fowls, hams, dried-fish, and melons, with pain à discretion.

As for the wines, they were indeed, " muy guapa, muy guapita," with one exception only: instead of being frappé à la glace, they were frappé du soleil. Nevertheless, we were so very free in their absorption, that our Hibernian friend began to intimate that the mauzanilla and amontillado were growing gradually more and more

evanescent.

We hastily alighted, in order to inspect the accommodation offered by the Venta, which we found to be scanty enough. Its stock of furniture comprised five or six cork-stools of unsophisticated construction, a tumble-down table, and an extraordinary large-sized jar, with swelling protuberance, that might have been dug out of the ruins of Herculaneum. This was filled with fresh water, and by it hung a most questionable tin or copper utensil, by way of ladle. To this we made instant application, and satisfied our thirst, whilst our companions as hastily seized three equally-useful articles, from out a row of small red earthenware pipkins, with conical-shaped bottoms, fixed in a kind of pantry shelf, which, from the constant evaporation, keeps the water extremely cool.

In addition to these, surrounding the large open hearth, were a few broken-down culinary vessels, and an old pair of English bellows (perfect roarers), bought, as we afterwards learnt, from an itinerant merchant, on this road to Arcos.

A mine-broker.

The Irishman, like a good-hearted troupier, bethought him of the hard-worked "caballos," who had been dragging us up hill and down dale, to the imminent danger of our necks and their legs. He would not trust to the "hombres," but personally superintended the unsaddling of the beasts, and the conducting of them to the manger, where they speedily went to work (in downright earnest) at the "paja y cebada" (straw and barley).

This done, he rejoined us, and, with the assistance of the Ventéro, we began unpacking our provisions outside the Venta, under a splendid purple grape-vine.

Fowls, hams, fish, melons, and bread, were all laid out before us, and three or four bottles of wine were popped into the earthenware pipkins to cool.

us.

We eagerly commenced our early meal, inviting the Ventéro to join

The calésà-men set about their culinary arrangements in the concoction of a "Sopa de cebollas," or onion soup. The analysis of the component parts of this "potage" caused us politely to refuse proving its quality when the hombre, who officiated as cook, offered us a taste from a wooden-spoon, having previously sipped therefrom himself. This savoury compound was made with onions, lard, oil, garlic, salt, pepper, toasted-bread, and water. We gave them some ham and melon, which they ate as a kind of dessert, and immediately afterwards stretched themselves upon some straw, indulging us, by means of their nasal tubes, with various fandango and bolero melodies, in discordant combination. Unwilling to disturb them, we quietly submitted to this acoustic torture.

Our repast concluded, the conversation became highly interesting, consisting of anecdotes of robbers and smugglers, so that we did not feel inclined to imitate our snoring companions.

The Irish lad, who had been somewhat of a traveller, and who had from close observation and study, obtained a smattering of many living languages, discovered that the Ventéro spoke with a peculiar accent, and consequently inquired if he was a "nativo di España ?"

"No, sir!" to our great astonishment, rejoined the host, in broken English, "I am an Italian, and will, if agreeable to you, give la narrazione di cose della mia vita, and you can then be my Biografo."

To this we all readily assented, and having informed him that we were all ears, he begun :

"My name is Georgio Folketti; I am a native of Rome, but left there quite a lad in the latter part of the last century, to settle down upon some land which we had inherited in the neighbourhood of Grenoble. At the age of eighteen, I married an amiable lady of that place, and shortly afterwards had the misfortune to lose my father ; my mother having died when I was a child. This new loss was severely felt both by my dear wife and myself, for I at first found that I was unequal to the task of superintending and cultivating our little estate; however, by dint of perseverance, I soon became perfectly competent to the task, and three years afterwards I thought that I was not only the happiest man in the canton, but one of the best and most successful farmers.

"I became the father of three children, two boys and a girl, and after the toils and fatigues of the day, I knew no other pleasure than in the society of my dear wife and of my pretty blooming little family.