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156 DAYS IN THE SUN
matter of complete indifference to them, though they
conceal this indifference under a boundless amiability,
for we are their guests in Spain.
We are now making a tour to Granada on foot.
Directly below us rises the great Vega, thirty miles
across, entirely surrounded by mountains, and on the
other side of the plain lies Granada, a gray speck on
the mountain slope. We follow the curve of the moun-
tain chain, keeping the plain on our right. Every-
where there is a bustle of activity, although the sun
has not yet risen. On the northern slope of the hills,
men are going about with long sticks, beating the late
olives from the trees while women and children are
lying on the ground ready to gather them up. Along
the southern slopes there is wheat under the olive-trees,
and men bend low cutting it and binding it in sheaves.
On the diminutive farms, the entire family is on its
knees delving in the sod; but on the great estates, the
farm-workers advance in long rows, each row followed
by an overseer who walks with the aid of a heavy stick.
If we like, we may leave the mountain road and follow
the railway tracks, which show traces of much traffic.
They will lead us through short tunnels and across a
deep valley with a torrent foaming along its bottom.
At the end of the valley we can see the stream break
over the rocks like disheveled silver hair.
All around us water gushes from the soil, sometimes
in bubbling springs as large as a big round table.
These are los Nacimientos, the famous springs of
Loja. Some of them spew forth hot water, and many
women of the plain people stand naked in the springs
up to their hips, engaged in washing clothes. We cross
other water courses, the waters of which come from
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