It is well worth while, when intending to remain overnight at a town, to arrange to arrive on the eve of the weekly market. For market morning brings many quaint rural people flocking into town on panniered mules or in odd ramshackle conveyances. Sunday is the market at Pollensa, and there the traveller may see a profusion of the old men of the zouave-like breeches. San Sellas and Binisalem hold their markets on Sunday also. That of Manacor is on Monday.

Arta, Montuiri, Llubi, and Porreras hold market on Tuesday.

Wednesday is the day at Sineu, and Thursday at Inca, Muro, and Andraitx. Lluchmayor has Friday, and the day of the week at Palma is Sat.u.r.day, when the country folk bring in the harvest of their fields and hold a little market of their own in the Plaza del Mercado, under the shadow of the high-towered Church of San Nicolas. Early in May Soller holds a three days' _fiesta_, when a historic incident of the landing and repulsion of a band of piratical Moors is enacted with great spirit by the people of the town.

A hint that may prove useful to any one arriving at some remote place where there is no _fonda_ is to ask to be directed to the schoolmaster. He is certain to know Spanish, may be pleased to meet a foreigner, and is sure to be able to recommend a lodging. It is to the courteous schoolmaster of Santany that we were indebted for this suggestion.

Failing the presence of a schoolmaster, the civil guard is a good person to apply to. They are said to be a fine and absolutely reliable cla.s.s of men. An artist friend chancing at nightfall to light upon a village where there was no inn, applied to the civil guard, who not only gave him a room in his own house, but appeared in the morning to offer the use of toilet appliances in the form of a comb and a pot of pomade.

The Balearic Islands appear to offer a good field to the entomologist. A friend who visited Majorca during February has given me this list of the b.u.t.terflies and moths that, even at that early season, he saw in plenty, mostly within a few miles of Palma: Bath White, Cabbage or Common White, Red Admiral, Painted Lady, Clouded Yellow, Brimstone, Wall Brown, Holly Blue, Small Copper, Swallow Tail, and the Humming-bird Hawk Moth.

As the spring advanced and the giant poppies I had sown in November became a four-feet-high hedge, b.u.t.terflies--strange, to me at least, and very beautiful--fluttered into the little garden of the Casa Tranquila, and probably not finding the poppies so luscious as their brilliant appearance had led them to expect, speedily fluttered out again. They did not make their home with us, as had the big locust that, in the late autumn, I captured when he was feasting on a moth in the shrubby field behind the convent. Bringing the prisoner home in my handkerchief, I set him on a pink ivy-geranium that flourished in one of the big green flower-pots on the veranda.

He seemed well content with his new quarters, for there he stayed all winter, taking up his position first in the tall scented verbena, and, when that lost its leaves, changing his perch to an adjacent almond-tree, as though he knew that would be the first to bloom.

Very early in the year he vanished, and we thought he had gone for good. But just as the first pale blossoms were opening in the almond groves he re-appeared, bringing with him the female of his species, and together in connubial amity they shared his old home in the almond-tree. When the pale rose-tinted blossoms had fallen, and the grey-green velvet pods of the young almonds were emerging from the crimson calyxes, the locust and his bride deserted us to seek a wider pasturage.

Though we wandered far from beaten tracks, the sole trace of reptiles encountered was an occasional discarded snakeskin. In Iviza lovely green and golden lizards and highly-varnished toy frogs in all "art" shades abounded, but we saw none of either in Majorca.

Our only insect pests were mosquitoes--who, probably recognizing an alien and attractive flavour in our blood, were a disturbing nocturnal influence until, with the aid of a few yards of mosquito netting, we succeeded in frustrating their knavish tricks. Even by day they were not invariably quiescent; but the mosquito is a gentleman. He always gives warning before attacking an enemy, and when we met in open combat, there was something of the joy of battle in the defence. According to local report, the tenure of his days should have ended with November; but it was not until a fall of the temperature about the middle of January that our a.s.sailant withdrew his battalions and left us in peace.

Though our visit was a winter one, the wild flowers were an unfailing source of pleasure. The season was unusually dry, yet I never took a country walk without finding some blossom that was new to me.

When we arrived in October the rocky slopes about Porto Pi were covered by a royal carpet of the purple autumnal crocus. The last of the sea lavender was fading, but horned poppies and chicory were in bloom. It was there, too, that in November we found the curiously shaped brown and green wild arums that are known in America as "Dutchmen's pipes," and locally referred to as _frares_, whose acquaintance we afterwards made at Andraitx. In April, when we left Majorca, pretty little white and lavender iris starred the ground and rich purple mallows and golden mesembryanthemums covered the rocks of Porto Pi.

The beautiful coast about Cas Catala had a herbage of its own. Tall flowering heath, a persistently blooming plant with dark blue b.u.t.tons, and delicate yellow rock roses were, as the months slipped past, succeeded by a fine display of cistus.

Throughout the whole time of our stay a constant succession of sweet lavender blossomed on the grey-green bushes. Asphodel, too, abounded. The first to open was the smaller species, with its rushy foliage and slender spikes of bloom. In January the tall rods of the poet's asphodel rose in such profusion that we were forced to give it place as the typical island flower. Forced reluctantly, I confess, for to some the odour of the tall asphodel, when growing in quant.i.ty, is far from pleasant.

It was at Soller, that district of piquant contrasts, that we saw the delicate greenhouse maidenhair-fern growing in ma.s.ses with English ivy along walls, or draping the moist sides of the water runnels.

It was at Soller, too, that we first made the acquaintance of the ten-inch-high daisy. There was little of the character of its Scots relative, the "wee, modest, crimson-tipped flower," in this aspiring plant. But the Balearic Islands have another form of the _Bellis perennis_, a lavender daisy, that sustains the family reputation for humility by cowering close to the soil.

The winter had been so dry that the flowers of early spring were disappointing. I found a few purple anemones where I had expected to see hundreds, and gleaned a handful or two of narcissus from the dry bed of the torrent where I had hoped to gather baskets full.

But with the coming of the long-hoped-for rain the earth gave up her secrets, and secrets worth knowing they proved themselves. There were amazing orchids--little round-bellied flies, so life-like that one half-expected to hear them buzz; or glorious travesties of insects that never were, some with bodies of glittering metallic blue daintily edged with brown fur, others with delicate wings of rosy heliotrope.

It was odd to find garden pets--grape hyacinths, gladiolus, iris--leading a gipsy life on those sunny slopes, and odder still to discover begonias, or even _Nigella damascena_, camping out, as it were. One felt inclined to demand to be told why they were shirking their obvious duty of beautifying gloomy British gardens.

The following list of the rarer Balearic plants, given me by a noted Scottish gardener, is specially interesting as showing the wide range of the island flora: Anthyllis cytisoides, Astragalus poterium, Cynoglossum pictum, Daphne vallaeoides, Delphinium pictum, Digitalis dubia, Genista cineria, Hedysarum coronarium, Hedysarum spinosissimum, Helianthemum serrae, Helianthemum salicifolium, Helichrysum Lamarkii, Hippocrepis balearica, Hyperic.u.m balearic.u.m, Lavatera cretica, Lavatera minoricensis, Leucojum Hernandezii, Linaria triphylla, Linaria fragilis, Lotus creticus, Melilotus messanensis, Micromeria Rodriguezii, Micromeria filiformis, Ononis crispa, Ononis breviflora, Ononis minutissima, Pastinaea lucida, Phlomis italica, Polygala rupestris, Scutellaria Vigineuxii, Sencio Rodriguezii, Sibthorpia africana, Silene rubella, Sonchus spinosus, Vicia atropurpurea.

Perhaps it was because wild flowers bloomed all through the months that the native children did not care to gather them, and that indifference to natural blossoms prevailed in all cla.s.ses of the community. It seemed as though the Majorcans had not yet realized the decorative value of flowers. One rarely saw cut flowers used on the table or in the reception-rooms even of people on whose country estates roses and violets blossomed all the year round. I never saw flowers for sale in the big daily market, and the few cl.u.s.ters that in spring the countryfolk brought in to the Sat.u.r.day market would scarcely have sufficed to trim one fashionable hat.

In February, when the rose-coloured blossoms of the cistus were beginning to open on the uplands, the brown-cheeked shepherd boys began to look for the young shoots of the wild asparagus, which they made into little bunches for sale, bound round with broad asphodel leaves fastened with long, sharp p.r.i.c.kles.

Though a gourmet could hardly have taken exception to the flavour of the asparagus thus gathered, he might have objected to the size, for the shoots were seldom larger than that sold in London under the mysterious name of "sprue." But the flavour was delicious, and when one added the pleasure of gathering to the value when found, the wild asparagus was worth its weight in gold. While the season lasted we often brought in a bunch or two from our sunset strolls, and these occasions were signalized by the appearance of asparagus omelet at supper.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Sunday Morning at Iviza]

XXV

IVIZA--A FORGOTTEN ISLE

With regard to Iviza, the third in importance of the Balearic Isles, even the usually omniscient Baedeker maintains a dignified reserve.

And indeed Iviza is so little visited that while the _Islena Maritima Compania Mallorquina de Vapores_ convey pa.s.sengers thither from Majorca for fifteen pesetas first cla.s.s, or eleven pesetas second, they charge eighteen and thirteen pesetas respectively to bring them back to Majorca, which looks as though they thought voyagers might require to be cajoled into going to Iviza, but would need no inducement to return.

From the records in existence one gathers that no relics of the Stone Age have been discovered in Iviza, though traces left by many dynasties prove that from very early times occupation of the lovely and fertile isle was hotly contested. Chaldeans, Egyptians, Phoenicians, Romans, Greeks, Vandals, Saracens, and Moors fought for its possession, but since the Aragonese invasion of the thirteenth century Iviza has belonged to Spain.

We had heard strange tales of the Ivizans--told, it must be admitted, by people who avowedly had never set foot on the island--grim stories of ferocity, of the crack of the ready pistol, of the slash of the handy knife. We had also heard that these grim islanders were invariably kind to strangers. Now we were on the way to judge for ourselves.

While the departure of the Barcelona boat lures all Palma to the mole, only a handful of spectators was a.s.sembled when, at noon on the 8th of April, the _Lulio_ steamed westwards.

It was a fine day with a brisk head-wind. Like the high mountains around Soller, the waves were white-crested, and for the first three hours the voyage was a delight. As the _Lulio_ skirted the coast we enjoyed identifying the places now familiar to us by land. The little bays beyond Cas Catala, Ben Dinat among its woods, the windmills above the town of Andraitx, and the long, high islet of Dragonera.

As the heliotrope mountains of Majorca receded into the distance, the brilliance faded. From warm azure the sea changed to purple, from purple to grey, and the wind blew keenly against us. The _Lulio_ is only some 600 tons, and there was little shelter on the saloon deck, which is forward of the funnel. We felt inclined to envy the Ivizan pa.s.sengers, who, camped on the snug lower deck, first ate strange messes, then after a brief but busy interlude of regret, curled up on their bundles and went snugly to sleep.

With us there were half a dozen men and one lady. And when the captain invited her to share the cover of the chart-house which ab.u.t.ted on our promenade, I envied her also until, after the dubious enjoyment of a few moments of splendid detachment from the common herd, she revealed signs of inward discomfort and fled to seek a less conspicuous position.

Before the land we had left was out of sight, two little clouds low on the western horizon were recognized as outlying islets of the Ivizan group. Then, as we gradually approached nearer, hills upon hills, promontories, more islets, appeared; and still we steadily steamed westwards. The sun sank in golds and greys behind the Ivizan heights, and still we went on through the grey gloom, past a rocky, indented coast on which we saw no sign of habitation.

Then, out of the darkness arose the vision of a town piled on an eminence--a town of unexpected beauty, for from the tranquil waters of the almost landlocked bay to the highest point it was sparkling with lights. It was Iviza, the one important town of the main island.

To the hoa.r.s.e grating of her anchor chain the _Lulio_ swung to, and through the darkness the vague outlines of rowing boats could be seen approaching.

The young boatman who was the first to accost us secured our custom, and we stepped down the accommodation-ladder into the swaying boat.

Half a dozen natives followed, carrying their belongings in big cotton handkerchiefs, a form of Balearic travelling case that to me always seemed peculiarly alluring, for when not in actual service, the handkerchief-portmanteau could be folded and stowed in the pocket; or even, did occasion require, be put to other uses.

The behaviour of the boatman who rows him ash.o.r.e in a new country serves the experienced traveller as symbol of the treatment awaiting him in that country. Our boatman asked one real each--twopence-halfpenny--as his fee, which was exactly the sum required of the native pa.s.sengers. And that served as our token of Iviza. We would be treated with strict honesty--there was but one price either for native or stranger.

The arrival of the steamer, whose departure from Palma had attracted so little attention, was a matter of importance at Iviza. People cl.u.s.tered on the pier, and the steps leading to the water's edge were so densely crowded that it was difficult for those landing to find foot-room.

A burly Ivizan took the luggage, and after a cursory custom's inspection we reached the _fonda_, which was only a stone's-cast away. The _fonda_, which appeared to be the only one in the town, was delightfully situated on the harbour. The rooms allotted to us were the best in the house. Two opened from the drawing-room and one had a balcony overlooking the water. The inclusive charge was six pesetas a day--about four shillings and sixpence of English money.

Supper was in process of serving. Going downstairs, we entered the dining-room, to find one long table at which were seated about a dozen men. Judging rashly by our Minorcan experience, we cla.s.sified them collectively as commercial travellers, and concluded that Iviza must be a more important place than we had imagined, if it gave employment to so many.

The meal, which revealed a lack of inspiration on the part of the cook, was served by a solitary waiter. When it was over, we went out and felt our way about the streets. The capital town of Iviza, which is built on a high rock, faces the sea. It has no back, no other side. The old town, which is surmounted by the Cathedral and the castle, is entirely surrounded by a perfectly preserved Roman wall.

The newer portion of the town, which is built on land reclaimed from the sea, lies just below the princ.i.p.al gate of the old city.

Pa.s.sing the quaint circular fish market and the vacant market-place, which consisted of a red-tiled and raftered shed, supported on white pillars and surrounded by trees, we walked up the slope leading to the great gate in the Roman wall that encircles the ancient town.

In a niche on either side of the opening stood a ma.s.sive marble figure. The heads were gone and certain other members had not outlasted the ravages of the centuries, but enough still remained to show the beauty of the workmanship. From the neck-socket of the draped figure foliage was springing, and the statue of the legionary had the scarce dignified effect of carrying a bundle of fodder, so boldly had the weeds sprouted from under his right arm.

The streets within the old city walls were dark and steep and twisted. In their secretive recesses something of the atmosphere of the Middle Ages seemed still to linger.

The Ivizans go early to bed. The lights that illumed our landing had already been extinguished, and finding our progress over these tortuous steeps a protracted stumble, we groped our way back to the _fonda_, resigned to leaving further exploration to the morrow.