The sultan of the mountains

“Then the Government wrote to Silvestre and told him that the only way of strengthening the authority of El Mehdi was that I should go and visit him. No Spaniard was foolish enough to write to me on the subject. They sent one of their men to me, a mesqueen who, because he wore suspenders, thought he was a European. The spirit of the Arabs was dead in him, and he had acquired more of your sins than your virtues. He sat in front of me and smoked, so I sent a slave for a brazier and ordered him to wave it round the room. After this he placed it beside the visitor, who was not pleased at the fumes, for I had told them to make it strong. ‘I have difficulty in speaking,’ he said. ‘You permit—?’ and would have ordered a slave to remove the brazier, but I looked at his cigarette—‘I thought you had so cultivated your speech that you had lost the power of smelling . . . but I have all my senses, as Allah intended them.’

“Then he stopped smoking and made excuses, and told me why he had come. ‘If you will make peace with the Kaliph, the Spaniards will give you all that you ask,’ he said. I looked out of my house and was silent, for I marvelled that a man could be so stupid; but, after a long pause, when he had repeated his arguments many times, I said to him, ‘Look out into the fields, and tell me what are those birds circling in the air?’ He said, ‘I see a few kites, and one great bird that is perhaps an eagle. It is flying straight for the mountains.’ I answered, ‘Does the eagle make peace with the field-mouse, when the kite is preparing to pounce on it?’ and he was without words. When he would have left, I said to him, ‘How much have you lost by this failure? Tell my slave, and he will make it up to you, for you were once a man and of my people.’

“After this the Government forced Silvestre to send my family to Tangier, and they came with an escort in all comfort. This was in the spring, when the sun was just beginning to eat the grass, and the tribesmen who were against me were frightened, saying, ‘He has prevailed again over the Government! We are on the wrong side.’ They began burying all their possessions in caves, where they would be safe from my vengeance, and they wrote hurriedly to the Government, but some of their messengers fell into my hands and were killed.

“One of their letters was brought to me, and I found it full of prayers that I should not be allowed to leave Tangier. ‘Ullah, they think they are dealing with Moors,’ I said. ‘But the blades of Europe are slow. If my death is planned, I shall know it a week in advance,’ for they implored that the Government would have me imprisoned or murdered, as a proof of its strength. ‘Your nation is strong,’ they wrote, ‘but he is stronger, for you have been able to do nothing with him. We dare not sleep by night nor eat by day, for fear he will attack us when we are unprepared. Tell us why you have not been able to hold him or kill him. Now that he has received back all his family and his goods he will have a still greater authority over us, for the tribes will say that even the Government cannot prevail against him.’ Ullah, they were frightened, so, to add to their fears, my men disembowelled the bodies of the messengers, stuffed them with straw and took them by night to the lands of the village which hoped for my death. Then, putting the letter in the mouths of the dead men, they impaled them on sticks and left them to greet their relatives in the dawn. It was a warning.

“The village was rich in rifles, so, to dry their blood and stop the wailing of the women, they lay in wait for some of my men whom I had sent on a mission to Beni Aros. It was well planned, and, where the rocks were steepest, my soldiers were fired upon from a distance, and two of them killed, but the others, seeing that there was no enemy to shoot at, flung themselves down as if they had been hit, and lay still, waiting. The villagers, who had been so well hidden that no bullet could have found them, sprang up with the battle-cry of their people. So anxious were they to mutilate the bodies and bring back to their women the proof that would still their voices, that they ran heedlessly towards the slain. My soldiers waited until they could see the gleam of the knives prepared for them. Then the bodies sprang to life and fired, for the enemy was now visible and in their hands. The slaughter was great on both sides, but at last the villagers fled. It was not safe to leave the wounded who could not walk, for the women would have come and destroyed their manhood, so they were dragged down the hill and buried swiftly before the breath was out of their bodies, and, if one protested, he was told, ‘Bismillah, you will soon be in heaven. Trouble not!’

“When the summer was already in Tangier, I sent my family away and rode out openly to Zinat, for the way to the mountains was ready. From my properties near Al Kasr much grain and other foods had been sent up to Tazrut, and I had more rifles than men. The country was flooded with them, and arms were sold openly in the markets of Jebala. In the Zawia of Sidi Jusef el Teledi, after the Hezb had been said, the Imam addressed the people and told him that the war was holy, and Raisuli the chosen leader. Their lives were to be under his feet, and they were to carry him on their heads wherever he would go. A letter from the Sheikh of Beni Jusef was read to the assembly and, when they understood that it spoke of war, each man under his own flag, their ranks broke and they rushed forward to kiss the letter and hold it over their eyelids. Fragments were torn from the paper, and the tribesmen struggled each one for a morsel, believing that it would be an amulet and save him from danger. One man, afraid that he might lose a most precious particle on which it happened was written the Name (of Allah), cut open the flesh of his arm, buried the paper in the wound and sewed it up with leeches. These insects are better than stitches, for, when a row of these are placed across a cut, they bite hard, and no one can force open their mandibles. The bodies are severed and removed, but the pincers remain holding the skin closely together, and, by the time they fall to pieces, the wound is healed.

“About this time Silvestre wrote urging the appointment of a new Pasha, for, under the mandate of the Sultan, I was still Governor of Azeila. Alfau protested. There was no war in his zone, and he still dreamed of a peace won by scribes rather than by soldiers. Silvestre retorted that there must be someone to rule, and suggested dividing my province into three parts under Dris er Riffi at Azeila, Mohamed Fadal ben Zaich at Larache, and my enemy Ermiki at Al Kasr. Certainly his weapons were tarnished, and the rust must have stained his hands, for er Riffi had deserted me when he thought I was weak. Poison had failed him, but I knew he would try some other means to destroy me, for as long as I lived, he would wake suddenly and feel his head rocking between his shoulder-blades. Truly a coward dies a thousand deaths before Allah summons him.

“As for Ermiki, his history is well known. I told you of his attack on Al Kasr, but, long before that, he was known as a man who had no truth in him. Accused of robbing the treasury of the Pasha who then ruled the town, he was sent to Mulai Abdul Aziz, who did not know enough to distinguish between the false and the true. All that Sidi el Ermiki had robbed from the Governor he paid in bribes to the Ministers who surrounded the Sultan. Consequently, instead of being punished, he returned to Al Kasr as Pasha, and his ferocity was such that men paid him their last ‘real’ rather than suffer his tortures. Much of this money he sent to Mulai Abdul Aziz, who was delighted, thinking that at last he had found a source to swell his sinking revenues. He ordered Ermiki to go out at the head of a mehalla and collect the taxes from the rebellious Beni Ahmas. Leaving blazing villages as torches to light his troops, Ermiki went through the country of Ahl Serif, Beni Jusef and Sumata and, to this day, people date their lives as before or after ‘the burning’ which is the name they gave to his journey. Allah was with the Beni Ahmas and they were strong among their mountains, which are invincible, so Ermiki could do no more than fire at the cliffs, which returned his shots slowly, each bullet finding its mark.

“The Ahl Serif, with much blood to avenge, fell upon him from behind, and he was defeated. His army vanished among the crags, and only the kites told where it lay. In the dress of a mountaineer, and riding a mule which had no saddle but a sack, Sidi Buselhan[55] escaped to the plains, but by this time Mulai Hafid had taken his brother’s place upon the throne. The oath had been sworn between us, and the province was given to me as a Governorate, so Ermiki found himself dispossessed of everything at the same moment.

“It was this man whom Silvestre proclaimed as Pasha of Al Kasr, and there was no more hope of peace. I could have raised 10,000 men on the day the news was known. The Riffs came to join me from Gomara, 300 men with their rifles. The men of the plains by the Luccus sent word that they waited only to gather their harvest. My brother left Azeila for Zinat, and Zellal came also with his tribesmen. Flames signalled on the mountains by night, and smoke carried the news by day. The rifles were ready and everywhere they threatened the Christians.”

CHAPTER XVII

“In the West there is a plain, and across that country Silvestre advanced. I could not fight him in the open, and there was little cover, so all my men did was to harass his movements and make raids where his posts were weakest. Sometimes they got right through his lines and attacked the towns on the coast, but my policy was defence, not attack. In this the Arabs are strong, and in the mountains, where even your aeroplanes are useless, they can hold up an army with a few rifles. At first my headquarters were at Garbia, from where I controlled all the tribes who were with me. Each tribe had its own commander and, under him, were so many flags,[56] with perhaps 200 men to each. These were led by their Kaids, or by men whom the Sheikh appointed, and they fought independently, but according to the plan which I made known to them. With me there was no army, only a guard of my own people, and a ‘flying column’ of messengers who took my orders to the tribes. This consisted of 100 men on foot and 50 on horses, and they were paid 10 pesetas and 15 pesetas Hassani a day, for their work was dangerous. Among them were spies who brought me news of the enemy, and men eloquent in speech, whom I could send among the villages to stimulate the fervour of the people. The tribesmen brought their own food and rifles, but, when necessary, I provided the ammunition, which I was always able to get through Tangier. Each Sheikh was entrusted with a store of guns from which to supply deficiencies among his people. My idea was, not to attack Silvestre when my men would have been butchered by his cannon, but to let him see that the whole country was hostile, that death might come at any moment from the most unexpected place. At this game the Arabs excel, and no man’s life was safe, even were he locked into a room in his house.

“A soldier walking along the high-road between Ceuta and Tetuan saw nothing but a cart with many empty sacks in it. The old man who led the horse was half-clothed and had no weapon, but, hidden under the sacks, lay a mountaineer who killed the soldier as he passed. Some Spanish farmers lived in the middle of wide country where there was no shelter, for even the grain was cut. When they came out one morning there was nothing in sight except the stack beside the threshing ground, which they had made the previous day, and the mules who nibbled at the dry stalks. Yet the stack had been hollowed out in the night and, when the farmers approached, they were shot by the men whose rifles peeped out amidst the straw. At Rio Martin, soldiers were killed as they walked between the houses of their people. A camp of engineers was destroyed, when their agents reported no enemy within twenty miles. In every hedge of cactus lay a tribesman, his rifle ready for the unwary, till at last Alfau commanded that all hedges should be cut down and the country left bare as a youth’s face.

“In the towns it was easy, for there were always many who would help. It was necessary to have two parties and to choose a dark night. One group fired from a distance, emptying their rifles wildly at the flashes which had come out of the blackness. Instantly the other group, who had crept much closer, often wiggling like snakes on their bellies, charged the guard before they had time to reload and, without anything more than a few scratches, they would be in the town, five or six against hundreds. They would rush down one street killing all they could see, for the loyal people had been warned to stay behind their locked doors, and, when the pursuit grew too furious, they would take refuge in the friendly houses of which they knew.

“No man gives up a guest, but once el Mudden and two others were hard-pressed, and when they slipped through the back door of an ally, the police were banging on the front, for it happened that the man was suspected. Four friends were sitting talking to the master of the house and the tea-trays were in front of them. The servants hurried in with wails of distress, but without a second’s hesitation, the Sheikh bade el Mudden and his followers lie flat beside the walls. Then he pushed the mattresses against them, arranged the cushions over them and sat down again with his friends. The police found the old man leaning against a few bolsters and drinking mint-scented tea, while they discussed the value of crops. ‘We must search the house,’ said the officer of the Tabor. ‘You are harbouring the assassins who broke in at the gate.’ ‘Empty words! You will find nobody but my servants. The house is at your disposal. Search everywhere, but return and drink with us before you go.’

“So it was all over the country. I ordered my men to take hostages wherever it was possible, so that I might have some goods to market! A brother and sister were captured within sight of the walls of Larache, but the Government would not treat quickly, and they died on the journey into the mountains, so after that I forbade the capture of women. Thus it was the first year. Silvestre advanced slowly, for his transport was bad, and often his men were as hungry as the tribesmen. Little came to him from Spain, and the doctors cried out for instruments and the gunners for ammunition; but after the first harvest, we suffered badly, for the grain had been destroyed and there was no ploughing or sowing.

“In the East, the situation was different. Alfau advanced to Laucien, but it was a peaceable march and he was in communication with me all the time. He made no secret of his desire for peace, and I believe there was much argument between the leaders. As soon as Laucien was occupied, the tribesmen barred the way to the interior. I stationed three forces across the ways to Xauen, Suq el Khemis and Ain Yerida; and Alfau knew that he could advance no further without bloodshed.

“Ain Yerida is the gate of Tangier, for there the Tetuan road runs out of the mountains towards Zinat. Xauen is at the foot of Beni Ahmas and guards the last hiding-place of my people. Suq el Khemis is the sentinel at my own gate, and these three places are the most important positions in the West.

“When he found the tribesmen hostile, Alfau gave up his plan of joining Silvestre by way of Ain Yerida, and all through the first war I ordered Wadi Ras and Beni Mesauer to keep his attention occupied in the neighbourhood of Laucien. There was but one big fight between us, and this was at Ben Karrish, where I had a house. Slowly, and by way of many skirmishes, the Spaniards advanced towards the village. They paid toll at every olive-grove and the price was heavy.”

The Sherif paused to order the tent door to be closed, for the sun was creeping in across the carpets. Menebbhe raised himself from his crouching attitude behind the brazier, whose perfume drifted slowly on the hot, heavy air. “The Spaniards are brave,” he said, “but foolish. I remember we lay out on the hillside above the first fort beyond Tetuan. There was neither wire nor bags full of sand, and every morning the officer used to make a walk (reconnaissance) with a few men, to see that the country was quiet. Ullah, we waited for the music that announced his coming, and while it was scarcely light we heard the bugle”—he beat the time merrily. “The gate opened, and out came six or seven riders, the captain leading on a white horse. They could be seen from every rock on the mountains, and we thought, ‘Allah has certainly delivered them into our hands.’ I said to my men, ‘Choose each of you one, and be sure that he falls. Take you the brown horse and you the grey. I will account for the leader myself.’

“On they came, riding by twos, with the captain in front, but, when we fired, they scattered like partridges. Ullah, my aim was bad. The white horse fell but the captain got up unhurt. His revolver was in his hand, and he looked round, as if uncertain. His men were running back to the fort—those who were still alive. The officer called to them, but they did not hear. Then he came up the hill alone, straight towards us, who were hidden from him. His hat had fallen off and his eyes were staring as if he would look through the rocks to the earth. He was talking to himself as he stumbled upwards, and I said to my men, ‘Wait. This is not the time to waste a bullet,’ so we lay still until he fell right among us, and then, before he could use his revolver, we dragged him down and cut off his head. He was brave, but he had no chance.” “How extraordinarily cowardly!” I exclaimed. “Why didn’t you take him prisoner?” The Kaid crushed up his lips between his fingers, and looked at me sideways. “We took no prisoners. Ask Badr ed Din. How could we? There was not enough food for ourselves.”

The Sherif continued his story as if there had been no interruption. “Ben Karrish was difficult to take, for we held the hillside above it. There was fierce fighting, and a man came to me as I prayed in the mosque, and said, ‘Save yourself, Sidi. If you are killed, we shall be defeated.’ The blessing was with me, and I told them, ‘This is not the only place where the bullets will fall round me, for we shall be driven back to the walls of our country, but we shall not lose it. Fear for yourself, but not for me. I shall never fly before the rifles of the Christians.’ As he stood in the door of the mosque the man was killed, and I continued my prayers.

“In the night we went away, for thirty of my men were dead and nearly 200 Spaniards.[57] It is always the attackers who lose in this country, for the land protects its own. The news of this defeat was brought to the men of Beni Hosmar, and, disobeying the commands of their leaders, they flung themselves on Tetuan. It is not possible to take a walled city armed with cannon, but the Arabs had the blood of kinsmen to avenge. The war cry rippled along the ranks, and no one heeded the slain. It was like a hunt, and each man would be the first at the kill, and they shouted and laughed as they ran, but they could not approach Tetuan. In the flat stretch which is below the city the guns swept them away like thistle-heads in the wind and, when they returned to their villages, there was not a house without its mourning. The death-cry echoed through the night, but, in the morning, the Sheikhs gathered together their people and told them, ‘You would not listen for us, and you threw away the protection which Allah has given you. Now heed our advice and let there be no sleep in the town at night.’ So it was arranged and all the Christians feared the darkness, when the very cobbles in the streets seemed to rise up and shoot them. Many merchants moved their households and their goods to Tangier, and others took refuge at Ceuta, where they said, ‘The sea is our friend.’

“Alfau sent again to treat with me, but the tribesmen did not understand this method of making war. They said, ‘What is in the mind of the Sherif for with one hand he fights the Spaniards and with the other he welcomes their messengers?’ In the West, Silvestre was strengthening his line, for he wished to cut off all my communications with the coast. In this he was helped by Dris er Riffi, who stole everything that was in my house. Even the lamps he took, and the railings which were cemented to the floor. All my properties were confiscated, and in one of my houses there was a hospital, but the Arabs thought this was unlucky. ‘The enemies of the Sherif will surely die under his roof,’ they said.

“In June, Al Kasr was attacked, not because the town could be taken, but to cover the exit of some stores which had been collected for me in secret. My men hid in an olive-grove and when the Spaniards charged through it, firing their rifles as if in play, the trees showered bullets on them instead of olives, for the tribesmen hid among the branches and shot carefully and without hurry. On that occasion many Spaniards were killed, and, under cover of the tumult, my caravan slipped away through my own properties, where there were always men ready to help.

“After this I went to Tangier to see the German Minister, who had been my friend. His country was very strong and I thought her support would be useful. I would have no enemies in Europe, but only one friend, and that my own country. He told me that he could send rifles and grain to the hills, if I could supply the beasts to carry them, and he talked of the aim of Germany, which was different from yours. France, England and Spain always wish to divide the land of the Arabs. You set one tribe against another, hoping to profit by our quarrels. You support a ruler until you think he is strong enough to interfere with your plans, and then you instigate others against him. It is a bad policy. Germany wished to unite all the north of Africa under the Commander of the Faithful.[58] Turkey is not popular in Morocco, though all men prayed publicly in the mosque that she might win the war, but her rule is better than that of Europe, and Stamboul is far away. Each country would have its Kaliph,[59] and all the tribes would have been united under one ruler. This was a good policy, for, unless there is a strong head, the Arabs cannot unite. They do not understand how Europe makes use of them because of this. The prophet foretold it, and, as was written, we are divided into many sects, but there is still Islam, and, when Allah wills, it shall be again as it was in the time of the Omeiads.

“When I returned to Zinat, and heard of the famine in Beni Gorfet, whose villages had been burned by the Spaniards, so that the people were living in caves and eating herbs, I sent them many sacks of grain and as many arms as they desired. Then I wrote to the Kaids of Anjera, for it was in my mind to unite all the tribes to stand firm against Silvestre. Remember this first war was never with the intention of driving Spain from the country. It was forced upon us, and, though the tribesmen used the term ‘Nasrani’[60] as a match to their powder, this was never my idea.

“I thought, ‘If Spain finds she cannot advance, she will make peace,’ and I spoke in this way to the Shiekhs, saying, ‘Be patient, for your sufferings are fertile with the seed of the future. The foreigners will have learned a lesson from our stubbornness, and we shall be able to live with them in peace.’ With regret I found the spirit of Moslems hardening against the Christians, for I knew that this would be the worst arm turned against peace. Yet, so difficult is it to unite our people, I was obliged to make use of this spirit to counteract the bribes offered by Silvestre, who sent his spies among the tribes to visit the Sheikhs and talk to them of the benefits they would receive from Spain. The people who were nearest the plains, such as the men of Jebel Habib, were inclined to listen to his promises, for their farms were open to attack, but, as they dared not break with me, they tried to be friends with either side, and generally betrayed both.

“About this time, a journalist came to visit me in Zinat. He wore Arab dress and spoke our language as one of us. He came in poor clothes, dusty, with torn shoes, and said he had travelled with his companions from Tetuan, and was seeking my protection that he might go further. My men caught him and would have killed him, for they suspected his disguise, but I came out and saw him among them, and thought I might make use of him. I brought him into my house, and he told me his name was Benani, Ahmed or Mohamed, and I did not let him see that I knew his trick. I talked to him much of my life, not as I have told it to you, for, being a woman, you love stories; but I told him my politics in the past. I said again, ‘I am not fighting Spain. I am defending myself from one who is my enemy; and Spain is not fighting Raisuli. She is battling with ignorance and savagery, and she cannot conquer it. The foreigners say to themselves, “If we take the road from Tetuan to Tangier, we shall have conquered,” but the tribesmen retire further into the mountains, and still there is war. Then they say, “If we capture Tazrut, it is the end,” but they are wrong. There are still the mountains on every side. If you destroy an Arab’s house, he goes and takes shelter with a friend. If you burn his crops, he eats figs. If there are no figs, he lives on grass and what game he can shoot. If all his villages are burned, he goes away, saying, “It is the will of Allah,” and he sits down behind a rock and digs a little hole to sleep in. When that is discovered, he finds another and, always, he cleans his gun.’ It was a long conversation, and, after it, I sent the man to Tangier, but I said to him, ‘Do not come back, for I shall not speak twice through the same trumpet.’

“Dris er Riffi was still my worst enemy, for a man’s hatred is always bitterest against those he has wronged. Silvestre wished to destroy Zinat and, with that purpose, er Riffi gathered a force of discontented tribesmen, promising them the loot of my house; but their women were afraid and came out of the villages and clung to their relatives, weeping and saying that a curse would be on their children and misfortune would always be with them. So the harka[61] melted away, and nothing happened. You have seen one of those little whirls of dust, blown up above the fields by a wind, which dies as suddenly as it was born?

“My letters to the Kaids of Anjera had borne fruit and the rising spread among their tribesmen. Every day we grew stronger, and, when I sent some Sherifs to the neighbourhood of Ben Karrish to find out what was the attitude of the East, they reported this answer: ‘No peace with the Christians till even Tangier is returned to us!’

“It was full summer, and the posts of Silvestre crawled nearer across the plains, but el Binagri and his warriors held the roads. No man could pass without his authority, and there was no communication except by sea. The telegraph-posts were used in the rebuilding of our farms and the wire took the place of cut fences. Alfau resigned, for he was strongly opposed to the war, and each encounter seemed to him a new disaster. Spain had many thousand troops in the country, perhaps 50,000,[62] but Silvestre could not cut the line to Tangier, from which I drew all my material.

“Marina came out as High Commissioner and, for some time, was indecisive. He would not support Silvestre because of my friends the journalists, who still cried, ‘Soldiers, lay down your arms, for you are shedding your blood among strangers, without profit to your country.’ Ullah, do all writers conceive such nonsense? Zugasti was then in the Arab Bureau at Tetuan, and, doubtless, he influenced Marina, for, once again, the negotiations began.

“I was in Jebel Habib and Silvestre had occupied Questa Colorada, which was a great step on the way to Tangier. When the summer was nearly over, there was a battle at Xarkia, and I moved out to see the extent of the fight. I pitched my camp in a wood at Meyabah, and there messengers reported to me. My men had not sufficient ammunition for this kind of fighting, but I could not risk losing the control of the roads. Binagri arrived when the tribesmen were tiring before the Maxims of the Spaniards. It was a pretty sight, for he charged the rear with his warriors, shouting and standing up in their stirrups as if it had been a race. They rode through the rear-guard as hares through corn, and hardly a saddle was empty. The Spaniards swung round to face them, but they were gone, and re-forming among the hills. My men took courage and their firing steadied, but, though Silvestre stayed his advance, we could not drive him back.

“The year of your great war arrived, and still we were fighting. Mulai Buselhan, Kudia el Abid, many places that you do not know of, were taken from us in the West, but the mountains were untouched, and, still, from the East and the offices where Marina and Zugasti bent double over their correspondence, came offers of peace. There could be no peace for me while my enemy was still in the country. It has never been wide enough for us both.

“The war had become more general. All the hillmen took part in it and, at last, they proclaimed me Sultan of the Mountains. It happened in Xauen, where I had ridden to meet the Ulema[63] of Beni Gorfet, Ahl Serif and Ahmas. I came with a tired horse and men footsore from the pace of our journey, and, without warning, the people fell down in the streets and hailed me, ‘Allah keep my lord the King!’ Then the wise men said to me, ‘It is the will of the people. Be Sultan among us, for Mulai Jusef[64] is in the hands of the French and there is none to govern us,’ but I said, ‘Wait a little. These things must go slowly.’

“Next day there was a great gathering in the market-place, below the old castle where one of my race ruled 300 years ago. The people shouted, ‘The Commander of the Faithful may not be under Christian protection. So it is written. Therefore take the place which is empty, and we will obey you.’ They spread carpets in the streets and the women peeped out of the windows and threw scent upon us as we passed. The Ulema prepared a proclamation and it was read to the people before the last prayers. The market-place was ablaze with torches and every house had a lantern. It was an old man who read it, a Sheikh of much honour, and his voice was lost among the murmur of the people like the sea which will not be withheld. At the end they went into the mosque, and every male who was of age was present, so that there was no room within the walls for the worshippers. Men bowed themselves outside till the dust was on their foreheads, and the thronged suq took up the prayer and repeated it under the stars.

“The brown robes of the mountaineers were indistinguishable in the darkness, and it seemed as if the whole earth worshipped God.

“I did not sleep that night, nor was there any rest in my house, for, till dawn, I talked to the Ulema and we said the first prayers together. Always I thought of the peace which must soon come, and I did not wish to complicate my policy with Spain. I wanted to treat with her as the representative of a united country, but not as the Kalipha of Islam, so I urged the Sheikhs to keep secret the doings of the night. I told them, ‘You look ahead but a year or two, and you see us victorious over Spain, but, if that is your object, look still further into the future, for the French bayonets will press hard upon the heels of Spain’s departure.’ They listened to me, but they were not convinced.

“I returned to Jebel Habib, and there I found news that Dris er Riffi wished to make peace with me. From the first I could not believe this, for he is not one to leave a successful master. I guessed that he had conceived a new plot against me, but I agreed to receive his messengers, for how else could I discover his purpose? They came, but they would not look at my face, and their words were evasive. They insisted that er Riffi desired to see me, but they were embarrassed about fixing the place of meeting. I thought it was because they meant to arrange an ambush, so I led them on and suggested a village at the foot of the mountains, without any intention of going, but in order to see what excuses they would offer. But they became worried and agreed to everything, saying, ‘If it is the will of the Sherif, our master will submit.’

“The interview ended uncertainly, and I was puzzled, so, after the messengers had gone, I went to the mosque to pray. I had received the men in a hovel at the outskirts of the village, for I thought they might be spies come to see our strength, and there was nothing of mine there except the carpets that we sat on. When I came to the mosque I ceased troubling over the reason of er Riffi’s mission, though men came to me, asking anxiously, ‘What has happened between you?’ and I reassured them, saying, ‘The wisdom of Allah will make it plain. Come with me to pray.’ We entered, but had scarcely accomplished the first raqua-at, when thunder burst from the village. The explosion shook the mosque, and my companions would have run out, fearing that their people were being bombarded, but I restrained them—‘Nothing will happen to you, and what is more important than prayer?’ They stayed, and we finished the appointed raqua-at, but, though their lips moved and their bodies bowed themselves automatically, each man’s mind was outside.

“It was clear to me, of course, as soon as I heard the explosion, that the mission of er Riffi had been to place a bomb in my house. Possibly his messengers had hidden it under the cushions while they drank my tea and wished me peace in the name of their God! When we left the mosque and I saw the crowd all hastening in the same direction, I said to my friends, ‘You remember I told you that Allah would explain our difficulties? See now, how he has done it,’ and still they did not understand, but, when they saw the ruin of the house where I had entertained the envoys, they cried, ‘Sidi, the baraka is indeed with you! Allah has preserved you, praise be to him!’

“The story was spread among the tribes, so, out of the treacherous hand came good instead of harm, for the people believed it a miracle and knew that a special blessing was with me. My honour grew among Moslems, and many who had been uncertain joined me. The country would no longer proclaim me Sultan, and the hillmen brought me wild pigs, for it is said there must always be one of these animals, a young male, in the stables of the king, to bring him good fortune and because the horses eat better on account of the boar’s smell.

“At Tazrut the proclamation was read at the door of the mosque where my ancestor is buried, and, throughout Ben Aros, at each of the seven shrines of my family, a messenger repeated it to the tribesmen who gathered from every side with offerings of beasts. But the sacrifice was not permitted, for, in war, there is a dispensation and each family had need of its cattle. Only one bullock was killed, dying on its knees before the Qubba, and its blood was splashed on the threshold and on the lintel. Men dipped their hands in it and left their finger-marks on the wall, believing that they would be recognized in heaven by this means.

“After this I withdrew from Jebel Habib to Tazrut, which is the centre of my country, but, though my illness had already begun and I suffered such pain that I groaned in the middle of my speech, I did not stay there for long. I went backwards and forwards among the mountains with Mubarak and Ghabah and a few chosen men. We travelled so fast and by way of such difficult places that the legend grew that the Sherif was in all parts at once. Men fought more fiercely because they never knew at what moment I would be with them, and often there was a cry of, ‘Here is the Sherif,’ stimulating the fervour of those who grew hopeless, when really el Raisuli was at the other end of the country. It was told that I could make myself invisible at will, and leaders shouted to their followers, ‘The Sherif watches us. He will reveal himself when we are victorious!’

“There were many nights when we slept on the ground, with our saddles for pillows, and there were days when we rode without food, but I always ate less than my men, and watched often while they slept, so that they might realise my strength. There were hours when I could not eat because of the pain, but my foot was always ready for the stirrup and my hand the last to draw rein.”

CHAPTER XVIII

“Towards the end of 1915,” announced Raisuli, fingering a Spanish map, “Silvestre occupied a line through Questa Colorada, Kesiba, Mulai Bu Salam and Tarkutz, to Al Kasr.” He pointed out the places with an unerring finger. “I think that the last big battle was fought near Megaret. Silvestre was anxious to push forward into the mountains, for he knew he had little time before peace would be signed. On that occasion I was fighting with my people, and we were hard-pressed. I rode on to a little rise, from where I commanded the enemy, and I sat there firing steadily till they noticed me. There was a shout of ‘The Sherif is here!’ My people raised their war-cry, but the Spaniards were determined to capture me. A party crept forward to surround my hillock, and, as I turned to find another post of vantage, my horse was shot under me. He fell like a stone, and I could hear the shouting of the enemy. A tribesman offered his horse, but, as I mounted, the servant holding my stirrup was killed, and the stallion, terrified, reared up before I was in the saddle. My slippers fell off as I struggled with him, and then, suddenly, all round us were foreigners, and I shouted, ‘Salli en Nebbi, Rasul Ullah!’[65] and we charged them. Allah alone knows why we did not fall headlong as we crashed down the hill, but we went through them and away before the main body came up.”

“That is one of the occasions on which the Sherif was invisible,” added the Kaid gravely, “but his shoes were found by a rebel, who brought them to the Spaniards. It is said that Dris er Riffi, when he recognised them because of their size, bent and kissed them, though they were muddy and covered with the blood of the servant.” I suppose I looked surprised, for Raisuli explained, “In the most treacherous heart there must be some shame. The cloth which had covered my saddle, and which was very beautifully embroidered, was sent to Spain to the King. I was glad of this, for I have much admiration for him. He is a strong man, and, if we two could meet, there would be no difficulties between us. When I was in Tangier, Zugasti almost persuaded me to go to Madrid to see him, but my friends were afraid and, when the boat was in the harbour, they prevailed on me. If I had gone, perhaps there would have been no war. Recently I have written three times to the King to arrange a treaty that shall be permanent.

“After the affair near Megaret, I had to go back quickly to the high mountains, for I heard that Beni Ahmas and the Guezauia were fighting among themselves, and who knows how the feud would have ended? In our country a battle may begin with ten men and end with 500. In the morning a few men fight because there is blood between their houses. Shots are heard by their neighbours, and each man seizes his rifle and rushes to join one side or the other. After all, man is born for war, and woman for his relaxation and comfort. When a tribesman has nothing to do, he will always fight if there is a chance of loot. So by noon the encounter has swelled, and after that, perhaps, the Kaid comes along with his followers, to see what is happening; but his finger itches on the trigger, and he soon joins the party which is nearest to him. By sunset there is a great battle, and nobody knows for what reason. So it was with the Ahmas and Gezuia.

“I sent news ahead that I was coming, but I found them still fighting, so I left my men at a distance and I rode between them on my big horse. They saw me coming down the Wadi alone, and they were surprised. There were still some who fired, and the bullets went over me and round me, but they did not touch me, and the sound of the rifles died away quietly. After that I made peace between the two parties and swore them to keep it, for it was a small matter that had begun the feud—a few goats which had gone astray, and, believing they were stolen, their owner had burned a farm for vengeance. For this thirty men had died in battle and many been wounded.

“When I returned to Tazrut, I had learned the extent of the famine which was oppressing the country, for some of the tribesmen were like shadows, so thin that their clothes would hold two of them. I saw dead children and women who had no milk for their babes. The hunger was terrible, for there was no harvest of any kind, and the people ate fungus and insects.

“Abd ul Melek wrote to me, saying, ‘If you make terms with Germany, you will have money enough to feed the whole people, for the Germans are very generous. It is certain that they are going to win the war, and they will make you Kalipha over all Morocco, as far south as Mogador.’ I remembered that the German Minister had promised me grain, but, so far, he had sent only rifles. I spoke to my nephews, Mulai Ali and Mulai Mustapha, who were with me in Tazrut, and it was decided to communicate with the Germans, but to make no agreement with them.

“I wrote also to the tribesmen, encouraging them and assuring them that Allah would give victory to the Faithful, reminding them that those who die fighting the infidel live for ever in the highest paradise.

“At the same time, Marina sent Zugasti and Cerdeira, who is called by the Arabs ‘Abderrahman, the nephew of Raisuli,’ to see me. I said to them, ‘There will be no peace while Silvestre is in Morocco,’ and I told them the terms I desired, of which the most important was that the mountains should be left to the Arabs and not be entered without my permission. ‘Take all the towns,’ I said, ‘and when there is agreement between us, I will help you to occupy them, but leave me to keep peace in the mountains, and I will be responsible to you for their security.’

“Even while we were talking, Silvestre was occupying Sahel Haman, and his captain, Rueda, by means of the police, who were always my enemies since I stopped their depredations, was spreading propaganda against me in Jebel Habib. Rueda himself visited Sheikh Tazi and much of their conversation was reported to me. Sidi Abselam Tazi feared for his farms, and preferred the sound of threshing to the music of rifles, but he feared me more, so he tried, by vague promises, to make friends with the Spaniard. He alleged that he had rendered many services to Spain, but he asked, ‘What are your intentions towards the Sherif? It is said that you will make him Kalipha of all the country, and will pay all his armies for him. He has the Germans with him already, and they say there are many French deserters in his camp.’ So my propaganda was, after all, better than Rueda’s! Tazi wished to detach from me Ayashi Zellal, who had the whole of Beni Mesauer behind him, for he knew, if that tribe and Wadi Ras went against me, I should be cut off from Tangier, where Menebbhe[66] was my friend and served as my eyes and my ears. Now Zellal has always been my ally, and his word is the best thing in this country, so that he would not listen to Tazi, but I think some of Sidi Abselam’s men were with Silvestre when he took Rogaia on the road to Tangier. This was in the winter (Nov. 1915), and, from this post, it is a very little way to Zinat. If your eyes are good, you can see the windows of the houses and the hedges which surround them.

“I realised that, at last, peace was necessary, and I sent my secretary, Sidi Ali Alkali, to Tangier to speak of these matters to my friends. Already Silvestre saw himself in the eagle’s eyrie, but Marina opposed his march to Zinat. Then Dris er Riffi made his last effort against me. The Kaid and Badr ed Din both saw it. They will tell you, for, by Allah, I remember only noise!”

“We were both very frightened,” began the secretary, “for we thought the Sherif had been killed. Some strangers had come amongst us, saying that the Spaniards had driven them out of their village, and we talked to them and offered them hospitality, but they did not see the Sherif. He was with Mulai Sadiq in a small house, and we had been ordered not to disturb their conversation. Suddenly, as we sat under some trees at a little distance, there was a great roar, and the house fell to pieces in front of us. It was as if the earth was sick and vomited destruction. We ran forward, shrieking, for no man could live after the explosion, and dragged away the roof, which had fallen in a heap with the walls. All was destroyed except two beams, which, propped one against the other, made a tent among the rubbish. Under this sat the Sherif and Mulai Sadiq, talking quietly as if nothing had happened. Ullah! I have never been so frightened in all my life!

“When the villagers heard what had happened they crowded to kiss the robes of the Sherif and the earth where he sat, and each one cut a fragment from the beams, using it as an amulet. Certainly their protection was assured!”

Raisuli made a gesture of distaste. “There was much treachery in those days, but the worst has not yet been told you. I was now anxious to prepare the way for peace, and, being afraid that the Spaniards would begin to treat separately with the different tribes, I called a great meeting in Jebel Habib, in order to assure a unity of front against the foreigners. Representatives came from the Guezauia, Sumata, Beni Aros, Beni Mesauer, Beni Issef, Ahl Serif and Kholot, Jebel Habib, and I spoke to them of the famine that decimated their villages, and of the necessity of giving way a little, in order to obtain much. Some of the Sheikhs asked me, ‘What of the Germans?’ I answered, ‘The war in Europe is not yet won, and it seems to me that the Germans will not help us unless we agree to raid the French borders. Consider, is this the cheapest way of feeding your families?’ and they were silent, for all knew the strength of France. I continued my speech, saying, ‘It may be well to hand over the towns, where the Spaniards will build hospitals and schools, in order to save the mountains, which have no need of these things.’

“One answered, ‘The Spaniards will not leave us alone—they wish to Christianise all the Arabs.’ But I argued with them and said, ‘They can do nothing against us if we are united. It is a shameful thing that Moslems should quarrel among themselves when the foreigners are at our doors. From this day let it be known that each Moslem who disputes with his fellow is firing a shot for the Christians.’ Then it was agreed that a proclamation should be sent to all the villages and cried aloud in the Suqs, saying that Raisuli pardoned all who had fought against him, on condition that they would now join him. Each village was asked to supply five armed men, who would be paid 1 peseta 50 a day, and the Kaids were invited to come to Jebel Habib for the feast of Mailud, in order to settle the form of the new government.[67]

“The meeting took place in the open, for there was no house large enough to hold us, and sentries were posted that we should not be disturbed. It was very cold, and each man had his jellaba muffled over his face, so that only his eyes could be seen. It was a strange council, for our seats were the rocks and the tea cooled before it reached our lips. There were men present from the Tuagena, Bu Maisa, Beni Mesare, Ulad Ali, Erhama, Guezauia, Beni Zecar, Beni Serual, Ahl Serif, Beni Aros, Beni Mesauer, Ben Ider, Jebel Habib, Beni Said, and the Riffs of Gomara, Beni Hasan and Sumata. Each man held his rifle across his knees and, one by one, with his finger on the trigger, swore the oath of allegiance, ‘I will be with thee in the name of Allah and our religion until the day of my death.’ Then we stood up and said the Fatha together, with our hands raised to heaven, and the Wakils of the new Government were appointed, one who was treasurer, one for the feeding of the people, one for propaganda among the villages; but the direction of war I kept in my own hands, for I thought I saw its ending.

“Of the great tribes, only Anjera sent no delegate to this meeting, and they had 6,000 rifles behind them. They have never been loyal to me, for they are near the coast and much in contact with foreigners.” The Sherif made a gesture of counting money. “It is like that with them. Gold is pleasanter in the sight of their youths than the first bride when she opens her haik. Many times Spain thought she had the whole of Anjera with her, but her money was taken by small men who had no influence. They promised great things, but they had no power to carry them out.

“The best weapon of my enemies was certainly Dris er Riffi, for he was known to have been my servant, and, when he visited the tribes to make propaganda against me, the Kaids would say to him, ‘You were once in the house of Raisuli. How is it that you fight against him?’ and er Riffi would answer, ‘I grew tired of his cruelties and extortions, as you would have done. Let your hearts speak freely, for the Spaniards are generous and help all who come to them.’ Often the Kaid would protest, ‘Germany is stronger than Spain, and it is said that she is with the Sherif. What is the news from Europe? Are the Turks winning?’ Dris er Riffi had his answer ready. ‘This I tell you between your ear and my mouth, for you are worthy of confidence. The war in this country is only a pretence, though it costs you so many lives. Haven’t you observed how Marina stays his armies? How every week he writes to the Sherif? Raisuli is deceiving you. At this moment he receives 20,000 douros from Spain, and is meditating how he can hand you all over to the foreigners.’ ‘Ullah if that is the case,’ would exclaim the indignant Sheikh, ‘I would rather make peace with them on my own!’ ‘It is well said. I will arrange an opportunity,’ asseverated er Riffi.

“The native police officers were also very active against me, so I forbade the loyal mountaineers to have any communications with them, and, out of this, sprang the incident of Beni Aros. A policeman arrived late one night at a village where lived some of his kinsmen. He rested and ate at their farm, and they saw him on his way in safety, but before he was outside the limits of the village, he was shot by one who was most zealous in obeying my orders. The flash betrayed the sniper’s hiding place, and he was set upon by the friends of the policeman, who burned his house, while his women took refuge on the hillside, making the night noisy with their cries. When I heard of the affair, I sent a party to enquire into it, but, by this time, there was war in Beni Aros, some upholding my authority, others protecting the family whose guest had been shot before the taste of their meat was out of his mouth. My men were ambushed as they approached the village, and there was fierce fighting. Two were killed, and three taken prisoners, but the latter were well treated, for it was known that my hand would be heavy on the village. Next day, reinforced by many loyalists, my people returned to the attack, but none fired on them till they reached the Suq. Then shots came from the windows and the roofs, and a Kaid was killed. There might have been a great battle after this, but one of my men, who was skilled in speech, picked up a spent bullet and, in the midst of the fighting, called out to the villagers, ‘Who wasted this cartridge? By Allah, he has saved a Christian life!’

“The men stopped fighting to listen to him, and he got up on a high place and addressed them. ‘Each bullet that we have spent should have accounted for the life of a foreigner! This is how the Christians conquer us, for we spend ourselves in quarrels which have no purpose, while the enemy takes our country.’ His eloquence was so great that all men put away their rifles and the women stole down from the hillside to wash the dead. The same night he led the chief among them to Jebel Alan and made them climb to the sanctuary which is on its highest point. Throughout the centuries Sidi Abd es Salaam had heard many vows. The Beni Aros swore that no man’s rifle should be turned against his neighbours, until the Christians had been driven out of the country, and he who broke his oath was to forfeit his possessions to the village.

“By this time I had made two journeys to meet Zugasti, who always urged me to make peace, but I insisted in my demands—‘The mountains for the Arab,’—and Marina hesitated. Almost Zugasti persuaded me, for he was honest and he told me of the opinion in the towns, where there was no trade, and in the Western plain, where the farmers were ruined and eating the mules which should have threshed their corn. Zugasti had an English mother, and sometimes, when people pressed him to some action which was unpleasing to him, he would say, ‘Leave me alone. Don’t make a fuss. At these times I remember I am half English!’ Certainly it was impossible to embarrass him, for, like Zellal, he spoke nothing but the truth. His words made me think, and I sent for el Mudden and told him to bring me news from the coast.

“He went down to Larache with his men. Hiding their rifles in a suitable place, they dressed themselves in ragged shirts, took sticks in their hands and waited till the herdsmen slept in the heat of noon. Then they stole 80 cows from their pasture outside the walls, and the animals belonged to the Maghsen. They took also some beasts which were the property of a sergeant and, in order to confuse the wits of the pursuers, they broke up the herd which remained, and drove them in all directions, two here and three there. When the herdsmen awoke, they were obliged to chase their cattle from the sea-shore to the hills, and it was a long time before they discovered how many were lost. El Mudden brought most of the cattle to Jebel Habib, and, for a little while, the tribesmen grew fat on their flesh, but the ‘wild one’ brought me no news. So I decided to capture a merchant, a portly man of a certain age, who would know all that was happening in the towns and who would be able to pay well for my hospitality. Such a one was Abselam Bulifa, a protégé of Spain, and his piety was unfortunately his downfall, for he went in the evening to say his prayers at a sanctuary outside the town, and he never came back. In spite of his years, his struggles were so violent that my men had to tie him up and put him in a sack. In this way he looked like a calf kicking, for he did not cease to protest till he was brought into my presence.