“More than a mile within the wood,”
and not recollecting by which clue of a path I could get out of it, I
remained at least half an hour deliberating which way to turn myself.
The sheds and inclosures I have mentioned were put together with care,
and even nicety, it is true, but seemed to have no other inhabitants
than flocks of bantams, strutting about and destroying the eggs and
hopes of many an insect family. These glistening fowls, like their
brethren described in Anson’s voyages, as ruminating the profound
solitudes of the island of Tinian, appeared to have no master. At
length, just as I was beginning to wish myself very heartily in a less
romantic region, I heard the loud, though not unmusical tones of a
powerful female voice, echoing through the arched green avenues;
presently a stout, ruddy young peasant, very picturesquely attired in
brown and scarlet, came hoydening along, driving a mule before her laden
with two enormous panniers of grapes. To ask for a share of this
luxurious load, and to compliment the fair driver, was instantaneous on
my part—but to no purpose. I was answered by a sly wink: “We all belong
to Senhor José Dias, whose coreal (farm-yard) is half a league distant.
There, Senhor, if you follow that road and don’t puzzle yourself by a
straying to the right or left, you will soon reach it, and the bailiff,
I dare say, will be proud to give you as many grapes as you please.
Good-morning; happy days to you! I must mind my business.”
Seating herself between the tantalizing panniers, she was gone in an
instant, and I had the good luck to arrive at the wicket of a rude, dry
well, winding up several bushy slopes in a wild, irregular manner. If
the outside of this inclosure was rough and unpromising, the interior
presented a most cheerful scene of rural opulence: droves of cows and
goats milking; ovens, out of which huge savory cakes of bread had just
been taken; ranges of bee-hives and long pillared sheds, entirely
tapestried with purple and yellow muscadine grapes half candied, which
were hung up to dry. A very good-natured, classical-looking _magister
pecorum_, followed by two well-disciplined, though savage-eyed dogs,
whom the least glance of their master prevented from barking, gave me a
hearty welcome, and with genuine hospitality not only allowed me the
free range of his domain, but set whatever it produced in the greatest
perfection before me. A contest took place between two or three
curly-haired, chubby-faced children, who should be first to bring me
walnuts fresh from the shell, bowls of milk, and cream cheeses, made
after the best of fashions, that of the province of Alemtejo.
* * * * *