The sultan of the mountains

“I answered that letter with many pages, and I remember the words which a Badr ed Din wrote for me. The sense of them was thus: ‘You say that I have not served the interests of Spain, but do you not know of the innumerable battles I have fought for you, and all the difficulties and suspicions I have suffered on your behalf? It is not I who have caused the trouble in Morocco, but the indefinite policy of your Government which is always changing. How often have I been told one thing in the morning and another in the evening! How often has the Governor applied to Spain for a pressing remedy, and received nothing, because of the political commotion! You say I have not written to welcome you, but to do this was impossible after the injudicious actions of Barera. Have you not heard how the military commanders of your posts lose no opportunity of detaining the tribesmen in the cities, of interfering with their fields and their sowing, taking from them their money and leaving many wounded by blows and other injuries? This has been the situation for a long time, and I was so angry at the passive attitude adopted by your officials that, as a protest, I dismissed the two telephone engineers who were working at Ben Karrish in my zone. This was a sign to the tribes that political relations would soon be broken between your Government and mine.

“‘During the months before you came, I was instrumental in pacifying the tribes who would have risen to destroy your posts, but I told them that peace and tranquillity on our side must be unbroken, lest it should be said that war was the result of our actions. You say the root of your policy is your desire for peace and order. It would not appear thus, at least outwardly, for nothing is so true as actions which are unpremeditated. Since your arrival, incidents have been more frequent, and the offenders have not been punished. In proof, I will relate to you certain facts, and you will see that my silence was justified by the alarming news which was brought to me daily. Some of my labourers who were working at the edge of Beni Gorfet, in the vicinity of the Khotot, informed me that the chief of the military post at Tzenin had attacked them, taking away their herds, which were feeding peacefully in the stretch of grass, and had restored none of these, nor had they set at liberty the servants whom they had captured with the beasts.

“‘Tn Jebel Habib, artillery was employed against farms, not once but five times. Shells were dropped among the beasts, and it was impossible to continue the cultivation—all this because it was suspected that a soldier, who had deserted from the police, had passed through that country. The desertion of a policeman is not a strange thing. It occurs frequently, whether from your forces or mine, and it is impossible to avoid it. On the contrary, the use of cannon is a grave wrong, for it was agreed between the two parties[87] that artillery should not be employed against farms whose inhabitants were faithful to us and only wished to live in peace and security under our rule.

“‘On the same day Your Excellency was expected in Tzenin, coming from Sidi Laimani, the captains of the military posts at Maila and Tzenin set out with mixed forces to round up the peoples of Bedauin and the labourers of Beni Aros, all subjects of my jurisdiction. Your soldiers forced these men to leave their walls by weight of blows, killing even the dogs who barked at them as they passed, and not omitting to tear off the clothes which the tribesmen wore upon their shoulders. They drove them into the town and ordered them to make a crowd to receive the High Commissioner. This was done to show the large numbers of those who had submitted to Barera, a false action, because, if I ordered these tribesmen and these labourers to leave all their possessions and join me, not one of them would delay for a night. All those who escaped from Tzenin and would not wait for Your Excellency’s arrival, were forced to pay a fine.

“‘Another thing—the chief of the military post at Sania in the Garbia attacked, during the night, certain farms situated in Jebel Rik, near our own fort of Gahar Ru Gas. Your troops took away the cattle and left one herdsman dead and two wounded, and the village lost a great quantity of beasts, many of whom died from the wounds received from your rifles. After this, the soldiers laid hold of a Sherif, a relative of mine, who had been peacefully occupying himself with the care of his crops and his herds. They maltreated him, despoiled him of his clothes and took him away, naked. They still hold him a prisoner, without taking into consideration that the Sherif is a personage of renown and fame, known as a peaceful and prudent subject of great discretion.

“‘These and many other occurrences, deplorable and scandalous, occurred in your zone precisely when Your Excellency had established yourself in the Commissario.[88] Your officials have redoubled their campaign against my people, molesting them in every way, ill-treating them and giving as a reason that your jurisdiction extends over the whole country, without any difference between my subjects and yours. Added to this, there is the policy which Your Excellency is following with those of Anjera, who have always been against me and who were outlawed after the recent war, in which my forces fought by the side of your own. Your Excellency receives these traitors, appoints them as Sheikhs, and then attributes their nomination to Ben Azuz,[89] who, everyone knows, is your salaried captive, and who sits, like a blind man, with his mouth open, waiting for the charitable to come and drop food into it. It is the same thing with Ben Torres, who now promenades in his best silk clothes and would rule the Beni Hosmar. He forgets that, if it were not for my arms and my sentinels, he would not be able to wear such fine garments in security.

“‘Those who eat well and wear silk in Tetuan, who lie on soft carpets and have nothing to do but talk, spread lies about me. I live in a camp in the hills, with no comforts and no women. My foot is always ready for the stirrup, my finger for the trigger, watchful night and day, in spite of the illness Allah has sent me. I am too occupied with keeping peace in the mountains to have time to exchange words with them.

“‘It is the harder for me to put down disorder and revolt because of the conduct of Your Excellency. It is known that you are in communication with that worst of all devils, Darkan ben Sadiq, who leads a rebellious section of Gomara. It is even reported that, when Your Excellency next embarked for Melilla, you have promised to speak with him as you pass by the Bay of Targa, and will receive him, with various of his followers, in your boat. Your Excellency receives men who have no standing in the country, which surprises and flatters them, and you believe the things which they promise you, but which they have no power to realise. Do you not understand that these tribesmen of Anjera and Gomara were all severely punished by our troops and have steadily refused to live in peace with us, preferring brigandage and the capture of travellers? For this reason, my mehalla is still camped, one portion near Xauen and one on the sea coast.

“‘In your letter you say that the end we pursue is the same; but, under these circumstances, I can see no similarity in our objects. If Your Excellency decides to hold a conference with me, it is very necessary that Zugasti should be present, in order that there may be complete confidence between us. You refer to the full and ample powers which are vested in you, but Jordana said the same thing. I have now in my possession many letters written in such terms, yet nothing was definitely completed, since, as soon as a project was begun, it was abandoned.

“‘Even yesterday we heard the sound of cannon from the region of Ben Aros. The firing lasted from three to six, and I do not know yet what has happened. This cannot continue, if the people are to have faith in my protection and your word. There is no peace anywhere in the country, except in the town of Tetuan where men fight with their words. You know well that the wound made by the tongue is more serious than that caused by a sword. For this last there is a remedy, but for the first there is none. You know well that the wall of wickedness is very low, and to jump it is not necessary to have either wisdom or intelligence. The most stupid of beings and the most undecided can easily jump it, but the difficulty of all difficulties and the most arduous and the greatest, is to do good—such is the will of Allah, from whom are patience and resignation.’”

This letter from which Raisuli quotes is typical of his epistolary style, and it consists of between 6,000 and 7,000 words, as do most Arab screeds referring to any matters which the writer considers important. It still exists in the archives of the Spanish Government and is quoted at length in a recent work on Morocco.

Berenguer sent a frigid reply to the Sherif’s letter. Possibly he had in mind a not dissimilar list of Arab offences, for, at this period, there was a sort of guerilla warfare between the Spanish police posts and Raisuli’s irregulars. Attacks and reprisals may have been equally frequent on both sides. The High Commissioner wrote that his joy would be much greater on the day he received from Raisuli the spoken word rather than the written, but the Sherif knew that, if he once entered Tetuan, he would be obliged to acknowledge the authority of Mulai el Mehdi, so he remained in the hills and sent polite but somewhat equivocal messages. There was no further suggestion on his part of returning the Spanish munitions and guns. On the contrary, many innocent-looking caravans went up into the hills laden with stores and rifles for the Sherif. It is curious that Raisuli did not make a greater effort to meet the new High Commissioner, for, so far, his eloquence had served him at least as well as his mehallas. It is possible, judging only from Marina’s half-hearted campaigns and the little that Silvestre was allowed to do against him, that Raisuli underestimated the strength of any European Power, armed with the modern implements of war.

His reflections on the situation showed a surprising comprehension of Western politics. “The war in Europe had come to an end on the very day that Jordana died. Had he lived, I could have worked with him more sympathetically, for the need of keeping in touch with Germany was past. The friendship of Spain was more than ever necessary to me, for France had counted her graves and she looked to Africa to supply substitutes for her dead. If she makes another war, it will be with her Arab citizens, and their way to Europe will be through my country. It is easy to see that, and why the roads are not swept in Tangier and the filth lies piled before the houses! This is also the reason why Abdul Krim is never short of rifles and why he boasts that he has gunners and engineers. The French-trained Moors are helping him, just as they helped me against Berenguer.

“When I saw that war was necessary, I went to Ben Karrish to arrange for the defence of the road to Xauen. It was told me that Barera, whose courage was undoubted, had ridden from Tetuan by way of the Fondak and Suq el Khemis, to the plains. This was the first time a Spaniard had gone without my passport. I sent word to my mehalla to close the road, and to cut down the telegraph, which was the main communication between East and West; but I was determined that the first shots should come from Spain. No warning had been given me. One day there were letters passing between my camp and the Residency. The next, troops were disembarked at Alcazar-Seghir, and a march forced through Anjera with the help of those chiefs who had always been rebellious. My spies brought me news of one of these traitors, and I was able to catch him while he hastened to poison the villages against me. Ullah, his journey to the mountains was not comfortable, for they tied his hands to the stirrups of two riders, one hand to each, and dragged him in this manner across the country, and, when he clamoured, they spurred their horses apart till his arms cracked. He arrived at my camp half-dead, but he had enough time to recover before I let him go, for I demanded a large sum for his release, and, though the man of Anjera could not write his entreaties, I added them by means of an ear. Ullah, he was a bad Moslem, and deserved death!”

Perhaps Raisuli noticed my expressions, for he broke the thread of his discourse. “I will tell you a story,” he said. “Once a Spaniard sat in my tent and talked with me of matters that were very important. In the middle of our words, a slave came to me and whispered in my ear. I said to him, ‘Wait awhile,’ but he returned again and repeated his murmur. ‘If it is anything serious,’ said the Spaniard, ‘let us continue our conversation another time,’ but I answered, ‘It is of no importance. In a minute I will be at your service,’ and I whispered some directions to the slave, who said, ‘It is as the Sherif wills!’ and went away. ‘Forgive me,’ I said to my guest, ‘and let us finish our talk. I was only ordering a man 500 lashes, so it is not sufficient matter to disturb us.’ We continued our discussion concerning the policy of a certain tribe, but I observed that the Spaniard was nervous. He fidgeted and answered at random. At last I said to him, ‘Is anything the matter? It seems something troubles you,’ and he replied, ‘It is only that I cannot bear the cries of that man. Poor wretch! It is awful!’ I listened, and, certainly, the criminal had a strong voice, but presently it died away and my guest fixed his attention on his words.

“The slave returned after a while and said, ‘The will of my master has been carried out.’ I asked him, ‘Are you sure that you have given him the full number of lashes?’ and he answered, ‘I counted them myself, Sidi.’ ‘And the man lives?’ ‘He is very strong, Sidi.’ ‘Ullah, just give him another 500, to make sure. Perhaps, after all, you made a mistake.’ The Spaniard jumped up and protested. ‘This is abominable,’ he said. ‘Have you no mercy, no pity?’ ‘What do these words mean in your language?’ I asked, and he explained, while I listened attentively. ‘Tell me,’ I said, ‘if you were walking between hedges of cactus and the road was barred behind you, and if a very poisonous and dangerous snake came out in front of you, what would you do? Supposing there were a heavy stone at hand, but otherwise there was no way of escape, tell me what would you do?’ The Spaniard laughed. ‘I should thank heaven for the stone, and pray it to guide my aim!’ he exclaimed. ‘Would you not have mercy or pity on the snake? No? Nor shall I have pity on one who is worse than a snake. Go out, and ask my slave what that man has done, for such crimes are not talked about among Arabs.’ We sat in silence, but no cries reached our ears, and at last the slave entered. ‘We could not carry out your orders, Sidi,’ he whispered, ‘for the man died before the fourth hundred was completed.’”

CHAPTER XXIII

“One of the first acts of Berenguer,” said the Sherif, “was to release Dris er Riffi from the prison in Tetuan where he had spent the years since Alkali’s death, and to reinstate him as Pasha of Azeila. His next blow was given in the name of Mulai el Mehdi, in the form of a second confiscation of my properties. Notice of this was spread through all the villages—‘Forfeit all that he possesses of goods, in cities, and camps, his horses, his herds, his farms, as well as all things which he has on his lands, and that which is in the hands of his bailiffs. He shall also be despoiled of those goods which he confiscated from the Zawia and the Aukaf.[90] It was a very fine notice, and it must have delighted my enemies, but the only goods that I cared for at that moment were rifles and grain. I knew that there would be another famine in the hills, and I tried to guard against it by storing quantities of millet and barley at Tazrut. Soon I heard that my old enemy Silvestre had been sent back to Morocco. He must have been glad of this chance to defeat me, but I swore that the end of the war should also be his end or mine. Men said to me, ‘It is a sign that no quarter will be given,’ and I answered, ‘He has returned to this country for the last time, nor will he again see his own.’ Silvestre was given a command at Ceuta, and it was my intention to meet him face to face.

“This time the Spaniards had arranged their plan beforehand. They operated with several columns, making themselves masters of a circle of villages and then destroying whatever lay between them.” This plan of dividing the country into triangles and occupying the angles of each in turn was followed with success by the French in their zone. Berenguer, who was an able general, chose Larache, Rogaia and Tzenin as the first triangle; the famous Fondak, Al Kasr and Suq el Arbaa as the second; and Tazrut-Teffer-Xauen as the third.

“In this war,” said Raisuli, “the Spaniards received less help from the tribesmen than the first, for the Arabs remembered the fate of el Tazi and others, whom Jordana had not protected, when he made peace with me. Still, there were some who went against me, notably Haj el Merkadi, who was responsible for my defeat at Ben Karrish. This was the first battle of the war in which I fought myself. The Spaniards pressed us hard, for Ben Karrish is not easy to defend, and their guns forced us to retire to a hill beyond the village. From this height we commanded their advance, and our rifles picked them out, one by one, on the road. Here their guns could do us little harm, for, to kill one man, they expended many shells and blew up much of the hillside. We lay comfortably among the grass and fired at our ease. Suddenly behind us there came a body of men galloping and I thought we had been outflanked, but they rode openly, calling our names and shouting greeting. One said, ‘It is Ueld el Faqih (el Merkadi). He has brought his flag to our aid.’ The horsemen stopped over the brow of the ridge, and I went to meet them with some of my men.

“When we were quite close and the salaams were on our lips, el Merkadi put up his rifle. It was a signal, and every man followed his example. My people died before they had time to lift their arms, but I went forward untouched and some followed me. Ueld el Faqih turned in his saddle and cried, ‘He will not die. We have finished. Let us go!’ My men came over the hill to support us, forgetting the Spaniards below. There was a short fight and some of the traitors were killed, but el Merkadi had chosen a good horse. He escaped, and his treachery was profitable to Spain, for a line of rifles had been pushed forward and the houses of Ben Karrish were in flames.

“I stayed some time on that hill and, through my field-glasses, I watched men struggling with the fires, till there was only a little smoke to tell of the battle. This was the second time the village had been taken from me, but no shot ever touched the mosque. From Ben Karrish we retreated to the Fondak, and there I remained many months. I lived in a hovel where the roof was so low that a tall man could not stand upright, but its beams were made of the telegraph-posts which we had cut. The great do not need great houses, but I regretted that I never saw my family. As soon as I occupied the Fondak, I set about preparing its defences, for I knew that soon there would be aeroplanes and we should not be safe above ground. No preparation is needed in the mountains, for there Allah has provided an abundance of caves, but at Ain Yerida the hills are bare, so my people dug ditches where the riflemen could lie, and holes under the earth where they might hide from the ‘jinn-birds who laid eggs of death.’[91] Ullah, the tribesmen were always frightened of aeroplanes! They thought the machines would sweep down and pick them up by the hairs of the head and drop them from a great height.

“From the Fondak I wrote to Sidi Abdesam ben Thami, who was my friend, and told him of the treachery of el Merkadi, saying to him, ‘It would be a good thing and pleasing to Allah, if you invited this wicked man to have an interview with you, but outside your house, that he may not be your guest. Then you can arrange an ambush for him, or else send men to kill him in his own village.’ I wrote also to my friends in Tangier, asking for more ammunition. El Menebbhe and the son of Alkali who was killed, arranged this matter for me. There was also a farmer in the international zone whose house was at my service, and under his roof many curious changes occurred. Ben Alkali was head of my secret service, and he sent me warning of the movements of my enemies. When the road was clear of ambuscade, he would inform Menebbhe, who would arrange a caravan of mules, laden with goods for Azeila or Larache. Permission was obtained from the Spaniards for these harmless stores to pass into their zone. Fifty or sixty beasts would go out of Tangier, their panniers burdened for the needs of Larache, but, at a certain farm where they always arrived at night, their loads would be changed, as also the direction of their journey. Before dawn my ammunition was at my gates!

“Besides these supplies I had hand-grenades which Jordana had given me for use against the common enemy, and a certain number of guns, but few of my men knew how to use them. As always, my policy was to defend, not to attack, and, for this reason, I lost fewer men than my enemies. Great masses of troops are useless in this country. They are cramped and there is no room for them to disperse, when swept by hidden fire. I have seen Spaniards fall as quickly as hail in the mountains, because there were too many of them together. Berenguer’s advance was methodical, and he crowned each hill with a fort, surrounding it with wire or sandbags, but it is not difficult to besiege such places, and a good number fell into our hands. My men made a collection of Spanish uniforms, and sometimes wearing them, they would approach quite close to a column, throw their bombs, and escape in the confusion.

“Once this had been done very successfully by some men of Beni Aros. Retiring swiftly from the fight, leaving the enemy with several dead, they came to a small wadi where the water was good. ‘Let us stay here and rest,’ said one. ‘The Spaniards are busy now with their spades.’ The leader urged that it was too near the lines of the enemy, but it was hot and there appeared to be no danger. So they stayed by the stream, and some lay down and opened their uniforms, for they did not like the tight jackets of the Spaniards. An hour or two passed, for there is no time in our country, and with an Arab a thought is always more valuable than a deed. Suddenly the watch they had posted looked over his shoulder and signalled the approach of an enemy. Before the others could hide themselves and while they still stared back the way they had come, imagining they were pursued, a Spanish column appeared from the opposite direction and walked almost on top of them. ‘Give us water,’ said the first rank, and fumbled for a second too long. Even then they got in the first shots, but one was killed and one wounded as they retreated, their leader shouting, ‘Buen Dios, you may have all the water that is left!’ He was determined to show off his Spanish!

“This was at the beginning of the war, when men still laughed and believed that the ‘baraka’ of the Sherif was stronger than the artillery of Spain. In those days I said often to the Ulema, ‘Allah will save us when it is his will, but we shall be driven to the edge of our country, and safety will not come from our arms.’

“At first the Spanish troops were insufficiently provided with material (of war), and my people rejoiced, for they thought it would be an easy matter to defeat them. Berenguer did not realise how many men he would lose, so there were not enough hospitals. The transport was delayed by the roughness of the track. Maps were not reliable, and columns lost themselves among the hills. My captains were confident of success, but I knew that it would only be for a little. The Government at Madrid was composed of my enemies, for the Liberals have always been against me. Soon new troops would be disembarked and, though their very numbers might tell against them, we should be crushed by the weight of their metal. Under Allah, I trusted to two things—first, that the Government would fall in time, secondly, that the Spaniards would get disheartened by their heavy losses and that my old allies, the journalists, would come to my aid! It is easy to take every village in my country, but you cannot take the country itself. When every rock and cave is armed against an invader there is no one upon whom he can retaliate.

“All through the summer my headquarters were at the Fondak, which we held without much difficulty, though the Spaniards made a great effort to occupy Wadi Ras. It was in the hottest days of the year,[92] when sleeping is preferable to fighting. The Spanish columns advanced from Ceuta and Tetuan in order to take the hills north of the Wadi, but I had prepared a stratagem. The two columns were to come in sight of each other at a certain place, but they would not join until their objective was reached. Men of Anjera were to guide them through the tortuous defiles, and the Anjera have never been difficult to bribe! Money was the one thing that was always plentiful with us, for my wealth was banked, beyond reach of the Spaniards. The chosen guides lost themselves happily with a bag of douros, and some loyal men took their places. Thus one column was skilfully guided South-east and one South-west, and, when the officers complained, they were told it was in order to avoid ground unfit for artillery. As the gap widened between them, a third column appeared, apparently also marching from the coast. It consisted of nearly two hundred men, dressed in grey uniforms, with mounted officers, who marched in European fashion, putting handkerchiefs and leaves under their helmets as a protection against the sun. With them were the mules of a mountain battery, and the leaders gave them orders in Spanish. In time, communication was established between this force and the one on their left, and the first waited on a ridge for the second to pass below it into the valley.

“The battery was out of sight of those beneath, and it should have worked havoc, but my men were slow at mounting it, and only one gun spoke. When the strange column halted on the high ground, the men had moved apart, as if to watch their comrades below, and each man was standing carelessly by a stone or a bush. The leader raised his field-glasses to look at a distant hill, and, at the signal, every soldier disappeared. In a second the ridge vomited fire, and the Spanish column was trapped. A few snipers had been posted opposite, and these made a great show of their firing, that the enemy might think they were between two large parties.

“There was slaughter in the valley, as you see before the hill Zawias on a feast day, or in the butcher’s precincts after a market. At first the Spaniards did not understand, and they fired wildly, not knowing where was the enemy. As half of them were killed and a man had only time to see that the one at his side was dead before he fell across him, panic arose, for there was no way out of the trap. Men screamed and dropped their rifles, stumbled over dead bodies, and were trampled among them. A few lay amidst the rocks and shot steadily at the smoke which rolled above them. One, who was brave, lay still with the dead, and, when my men thought it was finished, and came down to take the rifles and cartridge-belts from the bodies, he killed two and wounded a third before they cut off his head. I think the Spaniards lost a hundred or a hundred and fifty men that day, and our casualties were perhaps six; but this did not occur again! Many heads were brought into the villages, and the women stuck twigs in their eyes and put them upon the topmost spikes of the hedges.

“When their work was done, the Anjera guides slipped away and found shelter behind our lines, but the man who led the other column was suspected of treachery, and they tied him to the tail of one of the horses, so that he could not escape, and, to save his life, he was obliged to lead the enemy to the point they had indicated to him. Things did not go much better for them there, for they had not enough food or ammunition with them, and I had posted a party of men with bombs to blow up the troop who brought their supplies. There is no wide road in Wadi Ras, and, everywhere, a few men can hide and do much damage. The bombers divided into several groups and threw their grenades from convenient places above the heads of the Spaniards. A few men were wounded, and three mules killed, but the others pressed on, thinking that the ambush was passed. A few hundred yards further on, the same thing happened, and, in great confusion, carrying their wounded on such mules as were left, the troop fell into the third trap. After this they retired, thinking that the whole valley was lined with death. This left the column at Wadi Ras isolated among the northern hills, where, if we had put a ring of snipers round them and besieged them, they would have been helpless, for their ammunition was low and they wasted their bullets.

“News had been brought to me that a force (under Barera) was on its way from Larache, so I saw that an end must be made of the affair. I sent messengers from Beni Aros, of such families as had had dealings with the Spaniards, to inform Barera that he was too late. With much distress, they were to explain that the remnants of the columns had retired towards Ceuta and Tetuan, and that the forces of the sheriff were in strength at Wadi Ras. That night we set forth to render the words true! The enemy occupied a ridge which was steep on one side, but easy of access from the other. A few tribesmen made a pretence of attacking the gentle slopes, firing and shouting the war-cry of their people, as if it were only a sortie from some village which wanted to collect a few rifles. After they had drawn the attention of the Spaniards, some horsemen galloped up in a long line and blazed over the heads of the first party. They were good targets and a few were killed, upon which the others made a feint of retiring, but, in reality, as soon as they were out of sight, they dropped down among the scrub and waited. The horsemen stood up and urged their horses up the hill at full speed, firing as they rode, but, when the enemy would have met this charge, they wheeled round and fled, sliding over the rough ground on their haunches, still discharging their rifles and shouting. The enemy followed, but there were few wounded, for the voluminous robes of the Moors received more bullets than their bodies.

“The clamour was intentional, for it had covered the approach of the real force which crept goat-like up the crags, in single file. On this side the ridge was scarcely guarded, and the few sentries were easily overpowered by the first tribesmen who climbed, with a knife between their teeth. The end was very easy. My men were on the ridge before the majority of the enemy turned from chasing the horsemen of el Arbi. They fought stubbornly, sending several tribesmen to paradise, but they were overpowered and driven backwards down the slopes to the ambush which awaited them.

“That was the second night of the battle in Wadi Ras, and on the third there was little left to do. The column from the West had not arrived, but there were still stragglers who had reformed from the others, intent on reaching the coast, and some isolated posts which had lost communication with the main body. Excited by their victory, the tribesmen would not be restrained, and they killed many hundreds of wounded and threw themselves recklessly upon any Spaniards who were still in the country. Once again there were murders in the coast towns, and, in one place, the Arabs laid a plot to destroy all the Christians. It was arranged that the tribesmen should enter the city secretly in small numbers, with no rifles and in the clothes of townsmen, but, under his waistcoat, each man would carry a revolver. They would meet in the square and mix separately with the people in the hour after sunset, when all the Europeans come out to profit by the cool. Then, at a given signal, each man would fire, and kill as many as he could.

“Allah was not with them, and there was a mistake. Many had entered the town safely, but the guard challenged one group at the gate. Frightened that the plot would be discovered, the tribesmen fired and killed some of the guard. They broke into the town, but warning had been given to the citizens, who rushed for their arms. The tribesmen were scattered, and there was little fighting, though some were killed with bullets which were fired without purpose. Three men were captured, but they knew nothing of the plot and had only used their weapons to be in company with the rest.

“After the battle in Wadi Ras, the tribes gave praise to Allah and thought that shortly there would not be a Christian left in the country. It was useless that I said to them, ‘Our success has signed the judgment against us,’ for I knew that Silvestre would crush Spain between his hands for men and money to destroy me. I redoubled my efforts to supply the needs of Jebala against a long campaign. Even the prisons were used as stores, and no man was allowed to sell his harvest. Much grain had been destroyed by the enemy, and they had taken the beasts, or killed them, if they had no time to drive them away. This is against the law of Islam, by which it is forbidden to destroy the food, or poison the water, of an enemy.

“For two months we had little fighting, for the Spaniards were waiting for reinforcements. I knew what was before us, for I heard that the harbours were never empty of ships, and that, from them, were landed aeroplanes, and armoured cars, and bombs with gas in them that men cannot breathe. Ullah, what strange people you are! You say it is savage to cut men’s heads off when they are dead and their bodies without feeling, but it is civilised to stifle the living man with poisonous fumes, so that he dies slowly and his body decays while his spirit is still in it! Allah will decide between us!

“While all these preparations were being made against us and the coast was covered with troops, the wharves piled with ammunition, a deputation came to me from many tribes, including the Guezauia, the Riffs of Gomara, the Beni Gorfet, and the Sumata, who were the last to stop fighting against the Christians. They asked me to go up to Sidi Abd es Salaam to meet the Sheikhs of all the loyal tribes and to swear an oath with them. I agreed, for I knew that still more armaments must come before the attack would be renewed. I took with me my nephew and el Kharaji and the Jellali who commanded my cavalry; and the oldest of all my slaves, Ba Salim, held my stirrup as I rode.

“We started early in the dawn, and I remembered that other ride to meet Jordana at Guad Agraz, but this time my salutations were for my own people—who knows the intentions of Allah! We stayed one night in Tazrut where I was joined by the Kaids of Beni Aros and two hundred of my soldiers. The next day we rode up Jebel Alan, but the start was delayed because, from all over the country, men hurried to ride with me, and the women were busy cooking rice and bread. When all had been fed and the morning prayer had been said in the mosque, for there was no room for the multitude in the Zawia, we left Tazrut and started up the first slopes. Below us the village was white and prosperous under the protection of the tree which is sacred in my family. If anything should destroy it, the fortunes of the Raisuli Sherifs would wither, so my house is built round it, and there are walls to protect its growth.

“It is said that my ancestor, Mohamed, said his prayers under a venerable oak,[93] and, because he was then hiding from his enemies, and had no food, he ate the acorns[94] that fell from it. The mercy of Allah turned them into bread in his mouth, and his hunger was satisfied. He renewed his prayers, and when he noticed that the old tree above him was falling, he planted one of the acorns in the ground and blessed it. Later on, when some of his disciples were restored to him, he brought them to Tazrut and showed them the acorn sprouting from the ground. ‘It is the child of the tree whose fruit saved me,’ he said, ‘and my children shall serve it.’ Then he told his disciples to build a fence round it and watch it, ‘for,’ said he, ‘my strength is ebbing with that of the old tree, but all shall be given to my house, more than my tongue can speak of, or my words embrace. They shall be the most powerful in the land as long as they remember the gratitude the Sherifs owe to this oak.’ It is said, also, that on the day he died, and there was mourning among the villages of Beni Aros, a great wind came and blew down the tree, but the seedling remained, and it is now nearly as old as its ancestor. Some of its branches have been destroyed, but no bombs touched it, for it is the will of Allah that the Raisuli still live.

“We rode up to Jebel Alan in a long line which reached halfway down to the village, and it was sunset before we reached the sanctuary. Each man dismounted and said his prayers where he stood, and the mountain was one voice praising Allah, for there were many thousand tribesmen, more than I have ever seen before Sidi Abd es Salaam. There were strangers to me, even among the Kaids, and I knew that some great thing would happen. All kissed my sleeve, or even my shoe as it was in the stirrup, or the trappings that were on my horse, but there was no speech. In silence we reached the summit, and the tribesmen fell back, ranging themselves upon the ground, till every space was covered. The Ulema from the Zawia of Teledi, the wisest men in Morocco, had come down from the peaks of Ahmas, and the Sheikhs of Beni Aros were there in their full number, though some were so great in years that their strength had gone from their eyes to their beards.

“No man broke his fast that night, but all waited for the hour when the Hezb would be chanted. The moon was full, and there was no other light. It seemed as if the clouds of the sky had descended and the whole earth gathered itself together and listened. The Sheikhs’ white robes were immobile by the wall of Abd es Salaam, but the brown jellabas of the tribesmen stirred in the shadows. Murmurs that were not words ran among them, and Allah was in our midst. At last the cry of the first Azzan broke against the rocks, and the thousand voices echoed it, till all Jebel Alan was a tongue in prayer. The Imam of Teledi repeated the Hezb and the mountain bowed itself towards Mecca. There were those who said the earth really moved and trembled under our feet. At the end of the prayers there was silence, and then, in moonlight, that was brighter than the day, the Sheikhs of the tribes spoke, each one in his turn. They told how it was ordered that battle should be made against the unbeliever, and they recited the life of the Prophet, showing his victories and also his defeats. They told how paradise waited for the slayer of the Christian and how the Prophet suffered when he, too, was homeless and fled from Mecca. ‘If your villages are destroyed by the enemy, your house is Islam,’ exclaimed a Sheikh of many years, whose voice tore the strength out of his body, and the tribesmen cried out that a foreigner should never rest his foot in the mountains.

“Men rocked themselves backwards and forwards, and repeated the name of Allah, till some foamed at the mouth and were sightless. Still the Sheikhs spoke of war, and the men of Beni Aros leaped up and shouted, ‘We follow the Sherif!’ Far away the cry echoed, like stones falling into a valley, and every throat bore it back again—‘We follow the Sherif! Allah protect the life of our master!’ Then the Imam of Teledi mounted on the wall and pointed over the falling hills. ‘That way lie the Christians, and it is your way; but the man who leads you is Sultan of the Jehad!’”[95]

Raisuli’s voice rang in momentary triumph. Then he was silent. Menebbhe gripped my arm and would not let me speak. . . . It was much later that the Sherif, rousing himself with an effort which was apparent, continued, “In this manner I was proclaimed the leader of the Holy War against the Christians, and it is against the echoes of that night that the Spaniards fight today in the Riff. When the Ulema had finished speaking, sound roared up the mountain like flames in a wind. Men laughed and sang, shouted and prayed, and nobody knew what his neighbour was saying. A single shot rose above the voices, and instantly every rifle spoke. It was the voice of the mountain again, thundering her challenge against the threat of the Christians. When the shots ceased—and this was after a long time, for some were slow and some were far away, but all would swear their loyalty by the oath of lead—a Sheikh of Sumata spoke: ‘Your bullets are for the Christians. Do not waste them even before Allah.’ Then I mounted and would have ridden down a little way, but my horse stepped on men’s bodies, for the tribesmen threw themselves before me.” Again there was silence. A bee blundered against the curtain, buzzing, and, from outside, came the shrill, thin sound of a pipe. “You are greatly honoured,” whispered Badr ed Din. “I have never heard the Sherif talk of that day, nor has he ever spoken in this manner before.”

CHAPTER XXIV

“On one occasion some of the men of Beni Aros were ambushed among the hills of Mesauer, and it happened in this way. A village which had never acknowledged the authority of Zellal sent messengers to the Sherif, saying that their cattle had been taken by the Spaniards and they feared for the safety of their houses. My master sent a force to help them, and, by Allah, it would have fallen into the prepared trap, only that it was much stronger than they had expected and the tribesmen were divided among themselves. Some said, ‘Let us shoot,’ and others, ‘Let us fly, and make another opportunity when we have more men’; so a few shots came from uncertain hands, and the soldiers were warned. The tribesmen, seeing the result of their hesitation, fought furiously, taking advantage of the ground they had chosen, but the harka[96] forced them out of their cover, killed many and took some prisoners. When these were brought to the Sherif, he looked at them without speaking, and said, ‘Return them to me after the last prayers.’ So we brought them into his house at night, and they stood before him, in chains, with bare feet. My master did not speak, but sat for a long time staring at them, and they grew nervous. At last he said, ‘Allah has not given me a weapon against my brothers. Go with peace, but take your chains with you, that you may turn them into bullets to fight the Christians.’”

The Kaid dropped on his elbow, and Badr ed Din promptly used his shoulder as a cushion. “It is the truth. I have not known so great an alteration in any man as I see in the Sherif, since I rode behind him up the mountain.”

Raisuli never made any reference to a change in his outlook. Next time he came to my tent, in a rose-pink kaftan smothered below layers of white woollen garments, with a dark jellaba over all, he began at once to talk about the Spanish occupation of the Fondak. “It was a day of triumph for Silvestre,” he said, “but it had been long delayed. It was in the autumn that I knew we could not hold Ain Yerida.[97] Since the meeting on Jebel Alan, the country was united against the propaganda which issued in a stream from Larache and Azeila, like the words of a woman when the thing she covets is denied her! Dris er Riffi was eloquent against me, and Barera, as clever in his politics as he was in his generalship, sent well-known townsmen to his outposts with instructions to talk to the people in the Suqs, impressing them with the power and generosity of Spain.

“If you can defeat an Arab in argument, you have won him to your side, for the educated among us love words as your men love women. Barera knew this, and his orators were skilful in their speeches, but, though Anjera and some others were with Spain, many of their own Kaids were doubtful. ‘Even if Spain wins,’ they said, ‘she will make peace with el Raisuli, for he has the ‘baraka,’ and, in one way or another, we shall certainly be given back into his hands, whether he rules for Spain or for himself!’ So there was doubt, and even men who had no friendship for me held back.

“For some time aeroplanes had bombarded Ain Yerida, and few of my followers lived above-ground. My house was always untouched, and the great square of the Fondak only lost a little plaster. At first men were terrified of these birds, and would fly, screaming, dropping their rifles as they ran, but I never moved from the place where I sat, and, seeing the little damage that was done, the tribesmen regained their courage. There were some who thought they could shoot the aeroplanes with a rifle. When they flew low, this was tried, and the Spaniards could not waste a bomb for every sniper. But my men always thought the red mark on the body must be the heart of the bird, so they did little harm.

“The advance to the Fondak was slow, for the Arab troops[98] were not loyal, and sometimes they fell on the end of a Spanish column and ate it up, escaping to the mountains with their loot. The attack was delayed several times by incidents of this sort. Once there was a general rebellion among the police, and several Spanish officers were shot, but this was because the men complained that they had not received their pay, and that even the fodder for their horses was sold to others.

“Three columns converged on Ain Yerida, coming from Larache, Tetuan and Ceuta. The path of each was disputed by horsemen who harried their flanks, and by riflemen who lay hidden, a few here, a few there, where the aeroplanes could not find them, but it was impossible for any body of men to move against them, because of these birds who hovered more persistently than the kites of El Biut. Whenever a column moved, villages blazed in its wake. This is the way of your civilisation. Blood flows before it and fire follows behind. It is not so great a change from the campaigns of Mulai Hassan, whose troops ate up the country like flies on a corpse. The homeless people fled to the mountains, women carrying their children, boys shouldering the rifles of the dead. I feared for the supply of grain, and ordered that it should be rationed in the villages, but the people thought that money was still a thing which had value, and they offered it to the distributors who should have hoarded the grain. So the douros changed hands, and soon there was nothing left that they could buy.

“The way to Tazrut by Suq el Khemis was always open for our retreat, for the columns advanced by the coast, the one from Larache fighting its way within sight of Zinat, down the road which I had closed for so long.

“Since the war the only road had been the sea, and this was the great difficulty of our enemies, for, as soon as they put up a telegraph-line, it would be cut down in the night, though there was no enemy in the neighbourhood. Ullah, I do not know how many troops were employed against the Fondak,[99] but there were many thousands, more than all the fighting men I had in the country. The enemy halted before the final attack, and made some of their little forts on the hill-tops, to guard their communications, while the artillery bombarded every yard which lay between us. I watched the shells bursting, and the explosives were so close that it reminded me of snow on Bu Hashim. All the bushes were burned, being first saturated with oil that destruction might be the swifter. All day the women toiled through our lines, homeless, often wounded and with singed clothes. The aeroplanes flew above us, and, after their passage, the earth was torn open at our feet. It was time to go.

“From the hills beyond we watched the Spaniards advance, preceded by a storm of shells, but none touched the red flag which we left guarding our property. The green standard we took with us, and it followed us to Sellalim and to the last outposts of the mountains. Before sunset the red strip had been torn down—it was the will of Allah. But today it flies again in Ain Yerida. Ullah, it is a pity that Silvestre cannot see it!

“The Spaniards concentrated a large force at the Fondak, making it the base from which to operate against Suq el Khemis. This action cut my communications with Tangier, for Barera and Silvestre now held the line between Azeila and Ain Yerida. They began a methodical envelopment of Beni Mesauer, and I saw that, if this succeeded, I should not be able to get any more supplies, so I went to see Zellal, and I stayed with him some days at his house. It was agreed between us that he should make peace with the Spaniards, so that his men might pass freely to the coast. Mulai Mustapha, my nephew, was my agent at Tangier, and it would be easy for him to send the things which I needed to Beni Mesauer and Zellal could arrange for their further journey. At that meeting, el Ayashi promised me his daughter, that the marriage might be a bond between us, and it was agreed that, when the war was over, she should be brought to my house.

“The next day Zellal sent messengers to the Spaniards, offering his submission, and they were delighted, and received it gladly, for his influence was well known. At the same time, the portion of Anjera which was with me deserted and made peace with the Christians. There is no honesty in that tribe, and they look no further than their pockets! At this moment their Sheikh, Mulai Ali, is living in Tetuan and talks much about his friendship for Spain, but I think his eyes are already turned in another direction.[100]

“Beni Ider and Beni Hamid now lay across the path of Spain, and for many months there was fighting among their hills. The Spanish force had three objectives. From Tetuan and Ben Karrish an army advanced towards Xauen, and Mulai Ali, my nephew, was at the head of the flags which fought them. From Larache, Barera pushed forward into the mountains of Beni Gorfet, hoping in this manner to draw a circle round Tazrut, but the Sumata, who were my best fighters, came south and blocked their passage. The third army operated from the Fondak, and Silvestre, looking up across the hills of Beni Aros, dreamed of the day he would set foot in the Zawia at Tazrut.

“There were no great battles, for the Spaniards had learned a lesson, and there were many days when they laid aside their rifles for spades and occupied themselves with shovelling earth into bags. Some of their small positions we took, but, though daily men died at the hands of hidden enemies, their artillery forced us back. Often their vanguard was on our heels as we slipped away into the hills, after eating up a post or breaking a column on the march. Often I have been so near them that Spanish soldiers dreamed of wealth, for the Government had offered a huge price for me, dead or alive. Ullah, I don’t think they would have complained of barbarity if my head had been brought to them, but the idea of so much gold unnerved their soldiers, and the bullets, as usual, went wide.”

“Allah was between you and your enemies,” broke in el Menebbhe, “and so it was made clear to me that time in the Wadi. In those days, the Sherif was more easily divided from his rifle than from me! Allah alone knows how many miles we have ridden together. Once we had fallen on the enemy in the early morning and killed some, but a relief came, and we were obliged to fly. My horse was lame, so the Sherif sent on all the others and stayed behind with me, with his two slaves. At noon we came to a wadi with high banks, and, in the bed of it, there was some sand and some clear pools. ‘It is the hour to pray,’ said the Sherif, and ordered Ghabah to hold our horses on the bank, while we went down to the water. The Spaniards were close behind us, so I urged him, ‘My master, let us go on a little further till we come to a safe country.’ And he answered. ‘It is already past the appointed time.’ ‘At least, then, let us hide ourselves in a place from which we can see the approach of an enemy?’ But the Sherif would not listen, and Mubarak and I followed him into the wadi.

“We performed the ablutions in a pool, and the slave spread out the red carpet for his master. The Sherif laid his rifle in front of him and, looking neither to the right nor to the left, he began the prayers. Hardly was the first raqua-at finished when Ghabah signalled from above, but the Sherif paid no attention. Then I saw two policemen on the bank opposite, and each had a rifle aimed at my master. I cried, ‘In the name of Allah, save yourself!’ but the Sherif never turned his head. ‘Have you so little faith in God? In truth, you are a bad Moslem,’ he reproached me. Mubarak would have picked up his rifle, but el Raisuli forbade him. We stood there, the three of us, while, fifty yards away, the men covered us. I wondered why they did not fire, but I would not appear less brave than the Sherif, so I only looked sideways out of the corner of my eye, and then I saw that the two were fighting. At this I was so surprised that I almost missed a prostration. I looked again, and saw one man knock the other down and take possession of his rifle and his horse. The other ran away, and the first came down the bank towards us, leading both animals, with the two guns in his hands.

“The Sherif continued his prayers, paying no attention to anything that had happened, but, when he had finished the last raqua-at and saluted the angels on his right and on his left, he said to me, ‘Did I not tell you there was no danger?’ Then the policeman came up and kissed the shoes of the Sherif and held them for him to put on. ‘Why have you come to me?’ asked my master. ‘Why did you not shoot and earn the money that has been promised?’ ‘Allah forgive me! that was my intention when I first remarked you, but, when I saw that you took no notice, trusting to the protection of Allah, I said to my brother, “We cannot kill such a good Moslem.” He argued, and would have fired, but I took his rifle. The blessing is with you, Sidi. May my service be under its protection?’”