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romances about the Moors, or some legend of a saint, or some love-ditty;
or what is still more frequent, some ballad about a bold contrabandista,
or hardy bandolero, for the smuggler and the robber are poetical heroes
among the common people of Spain. Often the song of the muleteer is
composed at the instant, and relates to some local scenes or some
incident of the journey. This talent of singing and improvising is
frequent in Spain, and is said to have been inherited from the Moors.
There is something wildly pleasing in listening to these ditties among
the rude and lonely scenes that they illustrate; accompanied, as they
are, by the occasional jingle of the mule-bell.
"It has a most picturesque effect also to meet a train of muleteers in
some mountain-pass. First you hear the bells of the leading mules,
breaking with their simple melody the stillness of the airy height; or,
perhaps, the voice of the muleteer admonishing some tardy or wandering
animal, or chanting, at the full stretch of his lungs, some traditionary
ballad. At length you see the mules slowly winding along the cragged
defile, sometimes descending precipitous cliffs, so as to present
themselves in full relief against the sky, sometimes toiling up the deep
arid chasms below you. As they approach, you descry their gay
decorations of worsted tufts, tassels, and saddle-cloths, while, as they
pass by, the ever-ready trabuco slung behind the packs and saddles,
gives a hint of the insecurity of the road.
"The ancient kingdom of Granada, into which we are about to penetrate,
is one of the most mountainous regions of Spain. Vast sierras, or chains
of mountains, destitute of shrub or tree, and mottled with variegated
marbles and granites, elevate their sun-burnt summits against a
deep-blue sky; yet in their rugged bosoms lie engulfed the most verdant
and fertile valley, where the desert and the garden strain for mastery,
and the very rock is, as it were, compelled to yield the fig, the
orange, and the citron, and to blossom with the myrtle and the rose.
"In the wild passes of these mountains the sight of walled towns and
villages, built like eagles' nests among the cliffs, and surrounded by
Moorish battlements, or of ruined watch-towers perched on lofty peaks,
carries the mind back to the chivalric days of Christian and Moslem
warfare, and to the romantic struggle for the conquest of Granada. In
traversing these lofty sierras the traveller is often ob
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