the shepherd in the plain, has his musket and his knife. The
wealthy villager rarely ventures to the market-town without his trabuco,
and, perhaps, a servant on foot with a blunderbuss on his shoulder; and
the most petty journey is undertaken with the preparation of a warlike
enterprise.

"The dangers of the road produce also a mode of travelling, resembling,
on a diminutive scale, the caravans of the east. The arrieros, or
carriers, congregate in convoys, and set off in large and well-armed
trains on appointed days; while additional travellers swell their
number, and contribute to their strength. In this primitive way is the
commerce of the country carried on. The muleteer is the general medium
of traffic, and the legitimate traverser of the land, crossing the
peninsula from the Pyrenees and the Asturias to the Alpuxarras, the
Serrania de Ronda, and even to the gates of Gibraltar. He lives frugally
and hardily: his alforjas of coarse cloth hold his scanty stock of
provisions; a leathern bottle, hanging at his saddle-bow, contains wine
or water, for a supply across barren mountains and thirsty plains. A
mule-cloth spread upon the ground, is his bed at night, and his
pack-saddle is his pillow. His low, but clean-limbed and sinewy form
betokens strength; his complexion is dark and sunburnt; his eye
resolute, but quiet in its expression, except when kindled by sudden
emotion; his demeanour is frank, manly, and courteous, and he never
passes you without a grave salutation: 'Dios guarde a usted!' 'Va usted
con Dios, Caballero!' 'God guard you! God be with you, Cavalier!'

"As these men have often their whole fortune at stake upon the burthen
of their mule, they have their weapons at hand, slung to their saddles,
and ready to be snatched out for desperate defence. But their united
numbers render them secure against petty bands of marauders, and the
solitary bandolero, armed to the teeth, and mounted on his Andalusian
steed, hovers about them, like a pirate about a merchant convoy, without
daring to make an assault.

"The Spanish muleteer has an inexhaustible stock of songs and ballads,
with which to beguile his incessant wayfaring. The airs are rude and
simple, consisting of but few inflexions. These he chants forth with a
loud voice, and long, drawling cadence, seated sideways on his mule, who
seems to listen with infinite gravity, and to keep time, with his paces,
to the tune. The couplets thus chanted, are often old tra