The numberless canals and watercourses which intersect the land in all directions are fed for the most part by the Jucár and Turia--the latter the local stream of Valencia--but every possible source is turned to account. Here the water supply, comprised in the Canal of Moncada and the Seven Canals, belongs to the community, by whom is indirectly elected the famous tribunal which meets every Thursday morning at the Apostles' Gate of the Cathedral. The sittings of this singular court are the most interesting sight in Valencia. In the plaza a crowd of countryfolk are collected, furiously discussing their affairs and pleading their cases in advance, after the manner of litigants all the world over. Meanwhile the alguazil of the tribunal has disposed an ancient sofa in the shadow of the great Gothic portal and marked off a space before it with a railing. Presently the seven judges arrive--one for each canal. They have the air of well-to-do peasants, and such they are--grave, stoutly-built men, with tanned faces and close-cropped hair. They wear black, the colour beloved by the comfortably-situated working man all the world over; but they have not discarded the native handkerchief round their polished brows or the _espadrilla_, or Valencian shoe. Each is known by the name of the canal which he represents--Mislata, Cuarte, and so forth. These peasant-magistrates having taken their seats, the oldest pronounces the words "Se obri el tribunal" (The tribunal is open). For a moment absolute silence reigns. Then those who have the right to be heard first are introduced within the railing and plead their cause bare-headed before the court. Woe to the insolent wight that dare stand covered in its presence! The alguazil will tear the handkerchief off his head, and he will be mulcted, moreover, in a fine. Anyone who speaks before his turn is fined. The discipline is severe. Each must wait till the president indicates with his foot that it is his turn to be heard. Notwithstanding, the fiery Valencians find it hard to restrain their feelings. At every moment there is an explosion of wrath or indignation, a heated expostulation from one or the other of the parties. The fines thus accumulated must represent a considerable sum. The procedure is entirely verbal; even the judgments are not recorded. But no court exercises more absolute power than the Tribunal de las Aguas of Valencia. Life in the fertile huerta of Valencia is beautifully described by the great novelist, Blasco Ibañez, a native of the city. The following roughly translated passages, though they convey little idea of the forceful and elegant style of the original, will at least enable the reader to picture a summer in the South: