Morning came as usual with the rising sun, and we set out, twenty-five
to a guide. I transmitted Mark Twain's name of "Billfinger" to our
man, and he was very much pleased by this notable mark of distinction;
in fact, he felt that he had to speak and act up to his title; but his
voice gave out in the second round, and he had to whisper his
historical jokes and quips about the harems to a "Cork" from Chicago,
who repeated them in a louder tone to the audience. This man was a
human calliope, and had the voice of an African lion when out of meat.
His trained organ was so ear-piercing that much to "Billfinger's"
annoyance several ladies deserted our party and fled to one of the
other guides who had a soft, sweet voice.
The party was large and each guide was obliged to keep twenty minutes
behind the band before him. This was done like clockwork, and yet,
such is the uncertainty of such arrangements and the intensity of the
human desire to get ahead of one's neighbors that, do as he would,
Billfinger was constantly butting his leaders into the rear of the
enemy--for such they were regarded, once the procession got into full
swing and the excitement had reached its zenith. This led to endless
confusion, and the members of party No. 9 (our set) had to be fished
out and sorted from the ranks of Nos. 10 and 8, thus producing many
violent squabbles among the guides. Adjustments were slow and by the
time they were made a general congestion had set in at the rear and the
"Corks" were all bobbing round in hopeless confusion, extending even to
the outer gates at which we had entered the citadel. But the man with
the voice from Chicago now came into his own and showed how easily he
could quell a friendly riot. He mounted a parapet and with a green
umbrella as a baton shouted back his orders, and they were obeyed with
such telling effect that in a short time the procession moved like a
well oiled machine and we had no further trouble. By most of the
pilgrims it was considered that this was hardly a fitting or dignified
entrance into one of the noblest ruins of any time or country; but this
is a practical age, and we got right down to the business of inspecting
what is left of the Alhambra. When such a man as Washington Irving was
so inspired by the marvelous beauty of this place and lived ninety days
in one of these buildings (which was pointed out to us by Billfinger),
in order to get the spirit of the times and place in which these halls
were erected and peopled, and there wrote his celebrated historical and
romantic book, _Tales of the Alhambra_, published in 1829 (obtainable
in any library), it would seem best that I leave the reader to peruse
that famous work for ideas and details which, should they be supplied
by the ordinary scribbler, could but belittle such a noble subject. I
therefore suggest that those interested procure that book and read it
for themselves.
[Illustration: THESE SANDOWS OF STAMBOUL ARE CONSIDERED A HUSKY TRIO,
EVEN IN THIS CITY OF STRONG MEN. IF THESE KEGS ARE FILLED WITH SOUR
MASH THEY'RE A MENACE TO THE WHISKEY TRUST AND OUGHT TO BE TAXED
ACCORDINGLY]
We went to bed early, for we had to rise long before daylight and take
the train for Gibraltar, where the _King of Cork_ lay waiting for us,
for she had steamed from Cadiz to "The Rock" after we left her; and
although we had enjoyed every minute of the trip, we were glad to get
back to the only home we had, on the water.
We had made quite a circuit through Spain, and it had been a most
interesting journey. We had thought of Spain as a land of dust, sand
and rocky mountains, but instead of that we found broad, fertile
plains, well cultivated and with every sign of prosperity. Above all
other things the feature of the country is the thousands of well kept
olive orchards; then there are sugar-cane, and grapes and other fruit,
in abundance. Some of the buildings on the ranches are very fine and
imposing, reminding the visitor of English estates. We were fortunate
in passing through the cork producing district, and saw the whole
process of barking the trees, cutting the bark in oblong squares and
stacking it up like lumber in a large yard. The trees grow their bark
again after it is stripped off and from time to time it is again cut as
before. At the first sight the "Corks" got of this industry, they
showed their interested appreciation by taking a thousand and one
snap-shots before the train left the station.
Most intelligent Spaniards will tell you that they were angry when we
took Cuba and the Philippines from them, but now they regard it as a
blessing in disguise, as they had no business with expensive colonies,
are better off at the present time than they have been for decades, and
hope for a new era of prosperity. The largest blot on the country is
the cruel bull fighting, but their English Queen has set her face
against it and it is distinctly on the wane.