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CHAPTER XII.

Departure from Milhaïn — Defile of Aïn Tarsil — Dwellings of the troglodytes — Arrival at Mtouga — Gloomy evening — Governor’s return from the fight — Prisoners of war — Their fate — Ride to Mskala — A venerable Moor — Return to the kasbah of Shedma — Poisoned guests — Ride to Aïn el-Hadjar — The Iron mountain — Ancient mining work — Eccentric soldier — Ascent of Djebel Hadid — Ruins of Akermout — Ride to Mogador — A kasbah in ruins — Powder play on the beach — Return to Mogador.

The partial failure of our plans doubtless had a depressing effect on the morning of May 29, and this was increased by the aspect of the weather, which was misty, and before long turned to fine, drizzling rain. At 8 A.M. the thermometer stood at 58° F., and we found the height above the sea of our camp at Milhaïn to be 3,397 feet (1,035·3 metres). We were in no hurry to start; but, as the rain grew lighter and finally ceased, we got under way about 11 A.M. The sheik, who had provided for our wants and those of our escort on a liberal scale, escorted us for a short distance, and we parted with friendly expressions on both sides.

Our course lay somewhat west of due north, over a bare and sterile country. Small hamlets, surrounded by a narrow belt of cultivation, were seen at rather wide intervals; and, save a few olive trees near the houses, we did not pass a single tree during the day. Artemisia Herba-alba, and Chenopodiaceæ of the Salsola tribe, were the prevailing plants, indicating the presence of gypsum and of soluble salts in the soil. About three o’clock we approached a large village, with a massive square kasbah, and soon after, following a dry watercourse, entered the singular defile which, as well as the village, is known by the name Aïn Tarsil. It has evidently been formed by erosion from the limestone strata which dip slightly towards the south. The surrounding country here shows a hilly undulating surface, unbroken by any marked inequalities; but the stream, though dry in ordinary weather, has cut a trench from two to three miles in length, and from thirty to fifty feet in width, between steep walls of rock about equal in height to the width of the trench.

M. Balansa, the only traveller who is known to have passed through this defile, must have been more hurried than we were, as he does not speak of the numerous rare and local plants which grow upon the rocks, most of them, indeed, the same that we had found on the rocks about Seksaoua. But he could not avoid being struck by the singular excavations in the rock, evidently used at some remote period for human habitation, which extend at intervals along both sides of the defile. In some cases there may have been a natural recess in the rock, afterwards artificially enlarged; but the majority appear to be altogether the work of human hands; and in most of them, where the entrance had become difficult owing to the breaking away of pieces of rock from the edge, this was afterwards made good by building up a bit of loose wall of irregular blocks of stone. The height of the entrance does not exceed four feet, and is often less. The most singular point about these dwellings is the fact that they are all near the top of the cliff, where the rock is nearly vertical, in positions that cannot now be reached without a ladder, or other artificial assistance. It might be suggested that since these prehistoric dwellings were abandoned, the work of erosion has deepened the trench, and thus increased the difficulty of access; but unless we suppose that during the same period the climatal conditions have been profoundly modified, this seems a highly improbable explanation. As far as we could afterwards judge, the watercourse running through the defile receives the drainage of only a small tract of hill country, and the marks of water action do not extend to the rocks on either side. It is impossible to see these remains without being reminded of the notions current in antiquity as to troglodytes who dwelt in the neighbourhood of the Atlas mountains, and who could run faster than horses;[1] but until the dwellings can be carefully examined, all speculation as to their date and origin must be vague and unreliable. It seems most probable that the rude savages who fashioned them for their own use deliberately chose positions offering the best security against attack, either from human enemies or wild beasts. Whether to facilitate entrance they used a rude ladder, such as the notched trunk of a tree, or relied on the superior climbing power which the freer use of the foot confers on most savage people, must remain uncertain.

As usual in this country the Moors refer these, as well as all other antique remains, to the ‘Christians,’ and stories of concealed treasure connected with all such monuments, of whatever date, make it almost impossible to attempt to explore or examine them. The work can be undertaken only by a traveller authorised by a special order of the Sultan, who should also be prepared by handsome presents to secure the goodwill of the local authorities.

We halted for luncheon in a convenient spot, and gave some time to botanising on the rocks, where, along with other plants, we found a beautiful variety of the Stachys saxicola of Cosson, densely covered with very long, white, silky hairs. It was near to five o’clock before we were again under way. For some time the defile continued, the cliff-like walls still showing at intervals excavated rock dwellings, and at one point it receives a tributary stream, with a bed now dry, which had cut a similar trench, and whose cliffs also showed the traces of rock dwellings. As we advanced, always ascending, we gradually emerged from the defile, and found ourselves on the slope of the hills that extend northward from the base of the Great Atlas for a distance of thirty or forty miles, and are probably continuous with the low range that we crossed between Shedma and Aïn Oumast. There must be some change hereabouts in the mineral composition of the limestone rock, if not in its geological age; as from about this point the surface was much less barren, and the vegetation more varied. Among other fine Cynaraceæ we saw here Atractylis macrophylla of Desfontaines, only once before met in our journey.

The sky was overcast, and evening coming on, when we reached the summit-level, which by our observations is 3,905 feet (1,190·2 m.) above the sea-level.[2] It did not appear to us that the surrounding hills anywhere rise more than 200 or 300 feet above the point where we passed, and, as we afterwards assured ourselves, they gradually diminish in height as they stretch northward from the main range of the Atlas. Although the matter is not free from doubt, we incline to agree with M. Balansa in believing that the hills we had now crossed form the watershed between the affluents of the stream running northward by Sheshaoua, and those of the Oued Kseb, which reaches the sea close to Mogador. Beaudouin’s map, usually correct as regards the accessible parts of the country, represents things quite otherwise; according to him all the drainage of this district is carried NNW. by a stream which passes east of the Djebel Hadid, and reaches the sea between Mogador and the mouth of the Oued Tensift; while the Oued Kseb, or Oued el Ghored of Beaudouin, has a course of only some twenty miles, and drains but a small tract of country near the coast. In most countries such a question would admit of no doubt; but, between absorption by irrigation and loss by evaporation, the streams in South Marocco dwindle away on their course so fast, that only at certain seasons it is possible to trace their course. As now advised, we believe that many considerable streams unite in the Oued Kseb, although this, at its mouth, is a mere trickling rivulet, unable to keep a definite course through the Mogador sands to the sea; while the stream laid down east of the Djebel Hadid has not, so far as we could ascertain, any real existence.

A large flowered form of Nigella arvensis, with a few other plants which we had not seen since we approached the mountains, indicated a change in the soil, now much less barren as we descended the north-west slope of the hills; and as twilight had set in we reached the kasbah of the Governor of Mtouga, a large pile surrounded by lofty stone walls. The soldiers, who had ridden forward to announce our approach, found for some time no response to their summons at the gate; and it was after some delay that two or three slaves presented themselves, and we then learned that the Governor and all his men had gone forth to fight against their enemies from Haha. No orders had been given for our entertainment; but we were told that within the enclosure of the kasbah there were rooms which were at our disposal. Our brave escort at once grasped at the prospect of shelter and safety within the walls, and were urgent that we should at once decide on accepting the offer. On inspecting the room to which he was conducted, Hooker had no difficulty, however, in at once refusing the proffered accommodation, and the alternative course of pitching our tents within the enclosure, on ground constantly trodden by cattle, was equally uninviting. Much to the trouble of our followers, the order finally went forth that the tents should be pitched on some moderately level ground outside the kasbah.

Slowly and sulkily the order was obeyed, we meanwhile sitting on our horses, while the night fell gloomily around us. There was no real ground for the uneasiness which our people undoubtedly felt, as night attacks are quite foreign to the usages of the country; but there was a genuine feeling that the Mtouga people were greatly overmatched in their struggle with the Haha tribes, three or four times more numerous than themselves. In the absence of supper every ear was on the alert for the approach of some one with tidings of the fray. At last, about 9 o’clock two men appeared; whether they had taken part in the fight, or judiciously taken flight, did not clearly appear. They claimed a victory for Mtouga, declaring that eighteen men of Haha had been killed, and that many prisoners had been taken, while acknowledging that the victors had also suffered losses. Half an hour later the main body approached, but it was soon evident that the return was anything rather than a triumph. The night was too dark to take account of the whole number that passed by our camp, or to observe their countenances; but the Governor with a good many mounted soldiers, and a file of from twenty to thirty prisoners tied together to bring up the rear, passed close before our tent, and the dark outline of each figure against the sky passed in long succession before us.

There was something weird and uncanny in the deep silence of the nocturnal procession. The Governor, wrapped up in a white haik, did not turn his head, or seem to notice the strangers, and his followers copied his demeanour. Not a sound was uttered until the file of prisoners passed by, when one man made a sudden rush towards us, imploring our protection. Of course the attempt was vain, for they were all securely tied together, and each end of the rope was held by a mounted soldier. With many a blow and curse the wretched man was driven along to share the fate of his companions in captivity.

A little later came a message from the Governor, excusing himself for not coming in person to see us. He owned to having lost many of his men during the day’s encounter, and said he was too anxious and disturbed to be able to entertain us. An ample mona was at the same time sent, and this helped to restore comparative cheerfulness among our followers.

As was natural under the circumstances we were anxious for information, but Abraham was not able to learn any reliable particulars as to the proceedings of the day. He professed, however, to be well acquainted with the method of warfare carried on between these turbulent tribes. The fighting consists in irregular skirmishes by men who keep as far as possible under cover, in which large quantities of powder are consumed with comparatively insignificant results. But, whatever be the result, it is a point of honour with each party to bring back prisoners. It is not often that these are made among the fighting men. Harmless peasants are seized—if of the enemy’s tribe so much the better; but, if these are not to be had, those of their own tribe are made the victims. We were assured that the same thing happens with the Sultan’s troops on the rather frequent occasions when they are despatched against some refractory mountain tribe. The mountaineers commonly make good their retreat to some spot not easily reached by horsemen; but, in order to be able to announce a victory, the detachment seizes any hapless people that come in their way on their return to the capital. When we inquired as to the destiny of the captives it was horrible to be told that some of them would certainly be butchered during the night.

It is strange, although similar anomalies are found in all ages and countries, to learn that, along with an utter absence of rudimentary feelings of humanity, these people show indications of the sentiment of chivalry. However strangely understood, the point of honour has a recognised place in their ethical system. The feud between Haha and Mtouga had been smouldering for many weeks, and hostilities were to have commenced soon after our arrival in the country. But the brother of the Kaïd of Haha was about that time seized with small-pox, and it was thought proper to await his recovery before commencing the war.

The night was overclouded, dark, and almost cold, and we were on foot at an early hour on the morning of May 30. The kasbah, standing on an elevated plateau, 3,085 feet (940·3 metres) above the sea-level, does not, owing to the undulating character of the surface, command any extensive view. Close beside it, a stream from the Atlas has excavated a broad trench, similar in structure to Aïn Tarsil, but very different in aspect. A streamlet here meanders along the flat bottom between walls of rock some 40 feet in height, and the more constant supply of moisture suffices to cover the floor of the miniature valley with a carpet of vegetation, and to support a fringe of tall water plants along the banks. We might probably have added several species to our lists if we could have devoted a day to botanising along the course of the stream; but in the existing state of the country that could not be thought of, and we contented ourselves with a morning stroll over the ground surrounding the kasbah, and along the neighbouring banks of the stream. As we wandered separately, Hooker was assailed with extraordinary vehemence by a negro woman. Not a word could, of course, be understood; but the objurgations of a virago are to some extent intelligible in every language. It was not possible to guess what induced this outpouring of threats and abuse, but it seemed probable that a botanist might unconsciously have done something to clash with the superstitious feelings of the natives. It is clear that the religion of Mohammed reaches but skin deep with the Bereber population, while traditional observances, derived from far more ancient religious systems, are still deeply rooted among them.

Much to the relief of our escort, whose first anxiety was to get away from the troubled district, we started about 10 A.M. The Kaïd sent another message, again excusing himself from a personal interview. We afterwards learned that he had made a present of four dollars to each of our escort, of course with the object of procuring some degree of support and countenance at head-quarters.

Our course during the day lay between NW. and NNW., keeping for a short distance along the course of the stream. At two or three points we saw traces of rock dwellings, not nearly so well preserved as those of Aïn Tarsil. Before long the walls of rock subsided on each side of the stream, which bent in a westerly direction, while our track ascended gently amid undulating downs, till we reached a point commanding a wide unbroken view of the northern horizon. To the eye the country before us seemed almost a dead level, but there is a decided general slope from south to north, as we more fully ascertained in the evening, when we found that we had descended fully 1,500 feet during the day’s ride. The outline of the Iron Mountain (Djebel Hadid) was now clearly traceable in the distance, the highest part bearing about due NW. As we advanced there was a manifest improvement in the fertility of the soil, and for a space of five or six miles we rode amidst cultivated fields, apparently the most productive that we had seen in South Marocco. The same conditions necessarily affected the wild plants of the country, and made it difficult to secure specimens of manageable dimensions of several interesting species. A great Daucus (D. maximus of Desfontaines), probably a luxuriant form, or sub-species, of the common carrot, grew to a height of four or five feet, and the flowering umbels were often more than a foot in diameter. More ornamental was a splendid Centaurea, three or four feet high, with very large heads of deep orange flowers, often tinged with purple, which we took to be altogether new. Subsequent examination made it doubtful whether it should be separated from a very variable North African species, C. incana of Desfontaines, though much larger in all its parts, and differing in the colour of the flowers.

We halted for luncheon near a village called Hazarar Assa, standing, as we were assured, at the frontier, between the provinces of Mtouga and Shedma. In Beaudouin’s map those provinces are separated by an intervening strip of territory, apparently belonging to the Ouled Bou Sba tribe. As political divisions in this country are subject to frequent alteration, the map may have been correct at the time it was made.

Maize was grown near the village, although no means for irrigation were apparent. As the growth of this plant is in general absolutely dependent on a frequent supply of water to the soil, we could only infer that we had come within the limits of the coast climate, and that as a general rule rain cannot there be very unfrequent during the months of April, May, and June.

During the halt the villagers reported that fighting was still going on in the neighbourhood, and a few gunshots were heard in the distance; but, as our course led us away from the scene of action, the result, if any, was never known to us.

In the afternoon our track bore more westward than before, keeping about due NW. in general direction. We soon left the fertile ground behind us, and for many miles rode over slightly undulating stony downs, where the prevailing slope is always to the N. or NW. The vegetation in these barren tracts is mostly of the social kind, two or three species, or sometimes one only, prevailing over a wide area, and then being suddenly supplanted by others. Artemisia Herba-alba, and Retama monosperma, are in this part of the country the dominant species. The monotony of the way was pleasantly broken by crossing a little valley traversed by a mere rivulet, which, however, sufficed to support a more varied and cheerful vegetation. From the rising ground beyond it, we gained a view to the south, and saw at a distance of eight or ten miles a massive pile of building crowning a low, thickly-planted hill, with a large enclosed space occupying part of the slope. The kasbah belonged to the Kaïd of Haha, and was on a scale proportioned to the importance of the Governor of one of the largest and richest provinces of the empire. We found additional reason for regretting the ill-timed local war, which prevented us from paying him a visit. Although guilty of frequent acts of atrocious cruelty, he was said to receive strangers with the utmost courtesy and hospitality.

As evening was fast approaching, we rode hurriedly through a little defile among the hills, where the rocks promised plants of interest, and soon after came upon the first Argan trees that we had seen since we quitted the province of Shedma, on April 30. Associated as the tree was in our minds with Mogador, where we had bidden farewell to European life, the sight awakened feelings of regret at the approaching termination of our tour, tempered by satisfaction at the prospect of returning to the usages and intercourse of civilised life.

About seven o’clock we reached Mskala, a rather large village on a stony slope, and saw close beside it an extensive camp where the old Governor of Shedma, with a considerable force, was, by the Sultan’s order, watching the progress of events in the contest between the adjoining provinces. We established ourselves in a stony field a few hundred yards away from the Governor’s camp, and before long an ample mona, consisting of two sheep, twenty-four fowls, tea, sugar, butter, and other luxuries, followed a little later by seven large dishes of cooked food, satisfied the cravings of our ever greedy soldiers, and the greater part of the night was devoted to general feasting throughout our camp.

On the morning of May 31 our men were in no haste to bestir themselves after the orgy of the preceding night, and we indulged in a longer rest than usual. The weather was fine and clear, but remarkably cool considering the moderate elevation of this district. By our observations our camp stood at 1,562 feet (476·3 m.) above the sea; yet at 8 A.M., when the sun was already high above the horizon, the thermometer marked only 65° F. It was suggested that politeness required a visit to the old Governor, and Hooker, with our interpreter and some of the escort, devoted himself to that duty, while Ball set off alone for a short botanical ramble over the bare, stony hills surrounding our camp. The excursion was not very fruitful, except in the way of illustrating the effects of barren soil and exposure, without the slightest shade or cover, on the growth of many species that here assumed a dwarfed and stunted condition.

Hooker, who had seen too much of the people of barbarous countries to be open to the illusions that many travellers, new to their manners, readily fall into, was, for once, very favourably impressed by his interview with the Governor of Shedma. He had found an old man of venerable aspect, with remarkably fine features, whose conversation displayed a happy union of dignity and frankness. He was engaged in superintending the distribution of pay to his soldiers, and the subject that naturally arose for discussion was the part which he and his forces were destined to play in the intestine troubles of their neighbours. His instructions from the Sultan were, as it seemed, of an indefinite kind. He had, in the first instance, endeavoured to play the part of mediator and avert the outbreak of hostilities. His present duty was to hold himself in readiness to carry out such further orders as he might receive. Considering the jealousies that always exist between the people of neighbouring provinces, usually inhabited by tribes of different race and origin, it may be doubted whether the troubles and losses of their neighbours are in Marocco viewed as matters of deep concern; or whether, as sometimes happens among the statesmen of more important countries, the mediator may not feel some secret satisfaction at the failure of his own proposals.

Shortly before 10 A.M. we started for an easy ride of three hours over the undulating country that lies between Mskala and the kasbah of Shedma, where we were to meet Mr. Carstensen. It was an agreeable change from the bare hills, with which we had of late been familiar, to enter on a comparatively well-wooded country. The Argan trees were nowhere so near together as to form what could be called a forest, but scattered in small clumps or single trees over the surface, so that nothing but a carpet of green turf was wanting to complete the resemblance to an English park. On reaching the kasbah, we found that our arrival was already expected. Our former host, the Governor’s corpulent son, had two rooms within the castle walls prepared for our reception, and before one o’clock we were installed in clean quarters, with iron bedsteads of European make, and cushions covered with Rabat carpets to complete the furniture. Soon after two o’clock notice of Mr. Carstensen’s approach reached the castle; the Governor’s son, with several armed men, went forth to meet him, and before long we had the pleasure of again greeting a gentleman to whose activity and thoughtful care we felt so much indebted.

Much of the afternoon was naturally employed in giving an account of our doings. When we reached the close of the story, and Hooker spoke of his morning’s interview with the aged Governor, in whose stronghold we were lodged, and the favourable impression made by his appearance and demeanour, the reply was somewhat startling even to men who had learned something of the manners of the country. ‘Yes,’ said Mr. Carstensen, ‘he is a fine-looking fellow, but he is not much better than other men of his class. Last year he poisoned two friends of mine under very discreditable circumstances.’ The victims were men of consequence, near kinsmen of the Governor, and supposed to have much influence among the Shedma people who resided in Mogador. Early in the preceding year they were induced by hospitable messages to pay a visit to their powerful relative. Familiar with the ways of Marocco, and feeling sure that his friends were objects of jealousy and suspicion to the great man, Mr. Carstensen at once wrote an urgent letter, in which he expressed his strong anxiety for the safety of the visitors. He soon received a reply written in the most reassuring terms: ‘Far be it from me,’ wrote the Governor, ‘to harm these men; I shall take every care of them, and cherish them as if they were my own children.’ A few weeks later another letter reached Mogador: ‘Nothing could exceed the Governor’s grief at having to announce that one of his guests had been taken suddenly ill, and soon after died. Such, however, was the decree of Allah, and we must all be resigned to his will.’ Mr. Carstensen was not surprised when, a little later, another letter reached him, conveying in nearly the same terms an account of the death of the second guest. He had no doubt of foul play having been used; but some months later received further assurance, when, on taxing the Governor’s son (our fat friend) with his suspicions, the latter answered: ‘Well, the fact is that my papa did not know what to do with them, so he had them poisoned.’

It seems strange at the present day to find so near to Europe a condition of society in some respects so like that of Italy in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, wherein no deed of atrocity committed by men in authority awakens the slightest feeling of moral reprobation. In the present instance local ideas had so far prevailed that Mr. Carstensen did not consider it expedient to allow what had occurred to interrupt his amicable relations with the Governor.

To lessen our regret for having failed to see something of the western extremity of the Great Atlas, Mr. Carstensen proposed that we should visit the Djebel Hadid, or Iron Mountain, a range of hills, about 2,000 feet in height, that approaches the sea about fourteen miles NE. of Mogador, and extends inland in a NE. direction for a distance of some five-and-twenty miles. So far as we knew, this had not been visited by any European naturalist except M. Balansa, and we willingly accepted the suggestion, and, following Mr. Carstensen’s advice, arranged to fix our camp next day at Aïn el Hadjar, a spot where some copious springs burst forth at the SW. extremity of the range.

The forenoon of June 1 was spent in the kasbah, and in a short ramble on the adjoining slopes. The appearance of the country was much altered since we had passed here at the end of April. The spring vegetation was then far advanced, and many annuals had ripened their seeds; but, thanks to the rain which had fallen at intervals during May, a new crop of young plants had sprung up; and during this and the following days we were able to gather several species in flower that we had before seen only in fruit. The fields where, at our last visit, the corn was being cut, had been ploughed up, and pumpkins had been extensively sown round the kasbah. There was more appearance of a taste for ornamental plants than we had seen anywhere among the Moors. The Governor had transactions with many of the foreign merchants at Mogador, and in that way had no difficulty in obtaining seeds or cuttings of many garden flowers. Amongst these we noted roses, pinks, garden-stock, geraniums, dahlias, Tagetes, and Coreopsis. Oranges and bananas were also cultivated; but it seemed doubtful whether in ordinary seasons the climate is suitable. The spring rains had recently extended over a wide tract of country, but they seem to be more often limited to the zone surrounding the higher mountains.

Among other articles intended for presents, Ball had picked up in London a large Highland brooch, with a yellow cairngorm crystal set in silver. This, with an opera-glass, was given to the Governor’s son as we took leave of him. The use of gold or silver and jewels for personal adornment is forbidden by law or custom to Moorish men; and the gift, which was sure to be transferred to a favourite wife, did not seem to be much appreciated.

About mid-day we started for our short day’s ride, forming, with Mr. Carstensen and his suite, a numerous cavalcade. Our course lay about WNW., over low undulating hills, dotted with Argan trees. Most of the surface was under cultivation, and appeared to be moderately fertile. At 2.30 P.M. we reached an olive grove near to a zaouia or sanctuary, called El Masaats. Close to this was a dwelling, on a larger scale than is common in this country, belonging to a man of some substance, with whom Mr. Carstensen had friendly relations. It would have been impossible to pass his home without a visit, and equally impossible, according to local ideas, for him to neglect the rites of hospitality. Luncheon for the entire party was speedily provided, and, while assisting as spectators at the lively conversation, we once more had to admire Mr. Carstensen’s perfect command of the native dialect.

As we sat under the trees several parties of natives, dressed in their best, passed by on their way to the adjoining zaouia. This was the anniversary of the death of the local saint buried at the sanctuary; and on such occasions the people of this country, whether Moor or Shelluh, do not fail to resort to the sacred spot. For the great majority the occasion seems to be no more than a welcome opportunity for breaking the monotony of their daily life. Excepting our Mogador Kaïd, who was most exact in the performance of his devotions, we saw little indication throughout our journey of regular compliance with the injunctions for daily prayer, so strictly observed in most Mohammedan countries.

After resuming our route we soon found evidence that we were entering upon a new botanical region—that of the Atlantic coast. Besides numerous species not seen since we had left Mogador at the end of April, we here found for the first time several conspicuous plants characteristic of this region. In hedges, and among bushes, a tall Bupleurum (B. canescens of Schousboe) grew to a height of eight or ten feet, and in similar situations Periploca lævigata was just forming its fruit.

The facts known as to the distribution of the last-named plant, and the allied species, Periploca græca, suggest speculations as to their past history that deserve some passing notice. The genus Periploca, which takes its name from the twining stems of the species first known to botanists, has its centre in the sub-tropical zone of the Asiatic continent. The single mainly western species is Periploca lævigata. This appears to be common in the Canary Islands, and grows freely in the tract now visited by us to the north-west of Mogador. It has been found in abundance on some rocky islands near the coast ot Sicily; but, in spite of the silky hairs attached to the seeds, it has not spread itself to neighbouring islands, nor to the Sicilian coast. It has been detected in two or three places in the south-east of Spain, and here and there in rocky places on the skirts of the desert in the interior of Algeria and Tunis. Finally, it was long ago found by Labillardière in one place on the coast of Syria. All this points to the former wide diffusion of a plant which no longer finds favourable conditions of existence, unless, perhaps, in the Canary Islands. Its presence in the interior of North Africa may possibly date from the period when it grew near the coast of a great gulf opening to the Atlantic; but it is not easy to understand how it has held its ground in a climate so different from that of its natural home. This plant has inherited from a remote ancestor a habit which is now of no service to it. The young branches near the root twine round any adjacent support; but as they grow older they become stiff and straight, and the taller specimens derive no adventitious support from this source.

The history of Periploca græca, the only species known to the older botanists, is somewhat different. It is rather common in Georgia, and in parts of Persia and Asia Minor. Less common in Greece, it becomes extremely rare to the west of that limit, being found only in Montenegro, at one place in Dalmatia, at another in South-eastern Italy near Otranto, and, finally, in the pine-woods on the Tuscan coast near Pisa. These facts indicate the former wider extension of the species towards the west, and its gradual retreat towards its primitive home in Asia. But we have more direct evidence to that effect. The prints of leaves unmistakably belonging to this species are not uncommon in the quaternary deposits of the valley of the Arno. It may probably have flourished in thickets on the Monte Pisano, and on the Monte Nero near Leghorn, when these were islands in a tertiary sea, and gradually descended towards the Mediterranean as the coast line was advanced by a change of level, and by the formation of the deltas of the Arno and the Serchio.

Another conspicuous plant, now seen for the first time, was Odontospermum odorum (Asteriscus of De Candolle), forming a dense dwarf bush, about two feet high. The whole plant gives out an agreeable scent; but, except in this respect, and in having the leaves covered with white silky hairs, it differs very little from 0. graveolens, a characteristic species of the desert region, remarkable for its offensive smell. The sweet-smelling species had been hitherto found only in the Mogador district, and in the Canary Islands; but it was afterwards gathered by us near Saffi.

We reached our destination at about 5.30 P.M., and were agreeably surprised at the verdure and freshness of the spot. Our camp was pitched among large olive trees, near to the stream flowing from the principal spring. The position somewhat resembles that of the so-called fountain of Elias near Jericho, well known to travellers in Palestine; but the contrast offered by the vegetation was remarkable. If a few plants close to the stream appear to thrive about the waters of Elias, the surrounding vegetation is meagre, and amid the straggling bushes of exotic aspect that surround the spot the traveller seeks in vain for effectual protection from the sun. Here, besides the gigantic olive trees that must have been planted at a remote period, the white poplar grows to a great size, and wild herbaceous plants were still green, many of them in flower as well as fruit, at this advanced season. At a time when the summer heat has become intolerable at most places in North Africa the thermometer in our tents stood at about 70° F. an hour before sunset, and the nights were even cooler than some might have wished. Something was no doubt due to the unusual amount of rain that had fallen during the month of May; but if the climate of the coast region of South Marocco were altered so as to resemble that of other places in the same latitude, much of the existing vegetation would soon disappear. On dry sandy slopes above our camp the effects of the late rains were plainly seen, and before nightfall we collected a considerable number of annual species in flower, sprung from seeds borne by the first crop, and ripened two or three months before.

We did not visit the remains of ancient miners’ work that are visible at several places about the base of the hill; but we found scoriæ in abundance, and some fragments of the ironstone from which the mountain takes its name. It is not easy to conjecture the date at which these iron mines can have been worked. There is no reason to believe that any Moorish ruler ever attempted to turn them to account; and although the Portuguese once built a small fort near Mogador, it does not seem probable that they ever held control over the adjoining country. As to the long interval between the establishment of Roman power in North Marocco and the disappearance of Roman civilisation after the Saracen conquest history is silent, and it would be as unsafe to assert as to deny that the workings of Djebel Hadid are to be referred to that epoch. The only apparent alternative is to attribute them to a still more remote period, when Carthaginian colonies flourished on the coast.

In connection with this subject it is curious to remark that Leo Africanus, in his account of the hilly range of the Djebel Hadid, makes no allusion to the working of the mines there, although his work contains frequent reference to the extraction of metals, not excepting iron, from mines in the Great Atlas. In his day the Djebel Hadid seems to have had a rather numerous population of Bereber stock. He describes them as of gentle and inoffensive manners, who expelled from among them men guilty of robbery and violence. They had been much molested by the Arabs of the neighbouring plains, and had agreed to purchase tranquillity by the payment of black mail in the form of tribute, when the reigning Sultan, whose policy it was to protect and favour the Bereber population, despatched a military force (which Leo Africanus himself accompanied), brought the Arabs to order, and relieved the Berebers from tribute. At the present day the Shelluh stock has apparently disappeared from this part of the country, being either driven away, or absorbed by inter-marriage into the surrounding Arab population.

A young man, the son of one of the wealthiest Jews in Mogador, had been invited by Mr. Carstensen to accompany him in this excursion. He was absolutely ignorant of the country beyond what he may have learned in a daily canter over the sands at Mogador, and was far less fitted for rough life than the majority of English young ladies of the upper class. Everything in tent life seemed to him strange and rather terrible. In the course of conversation over the evening cigar it came out that he had never seen a scorpion; whereupon, by order from Mr. Carstensen, a corner of the carpet within the tent was turned up, and a scorpion-hole speedily found. When the ugly creature was dug out of his hole and produced to the company, the genuine consternation and disgust of our young friend were irresistibly ludicrous. We afterwards heard that he passed a miserable night, in constant terror of encountering the enemy, and on the next day returned to the paternal home, whence he will not again be easily lured.

The natives show no especial dislike for reptiles, excepting poisonous snakes, which, in spite of reports to the contrary, must be rare. We heard so much of them, and especially of the Cerastes (El Efah of the Moors)—popularly called the ‘two minutes’ snake,’ because a person bitten is supposed to survive so long—that at first we always carried about us a bottle of liquid ammonia, as the best, though very uncertain, antidote. But when we failed to see a single specimen, and were assured that they are found only on the coast, we gradually laid all precautions aside, and thought no more of serpents than we should have done in Europe.

About this time we discovered that one of our escort had a decided taste for reptiles, which we might have turned to account, if we had known of it, by getting him to collect specimens. He was a tall, lanky man, with a prominent nose, whom we had nicknamed, from his peculiar personal appearance, ‘Don Quixote,’ but whose real name was Sherrif Mouley Mohammed. He had captured several toads and lizards, which he carried about with him, and showed another trait of originality in being the only one of our native followers who willingly drank coffee.

The morning of June 2 was brilliantly fine, and the sun remained unclouded throughout the day, although the heat was at no time oppressive. At 9.30 A.M. we started for the ascent of the Djebel Hadid, directing our course towards a hollow in the face of the hill, for the most part thickly clothed with bushes, but showing here and there outcropping escarpments of rock that promised a more varied vegetation than the otherwise uniform stony slopes. We at once found that, in comparison with the outer slopes of the Atlas, we had entered into a region botanically new to us. The evergreen oak had disappeared, and the Arbutus, though seen near Aïn el Hadjar, was evidently rare. The Callitris, which is abundant near the base of the hill, does not ascend on its flanks, and Juniperus phœnicea was either altogether absent or very rare. In the place of all these there was an extraordinary abundance and variety of spiny bushes, such as made the day’s excursion severely remembered by the destruction of our garments and the multitude of pricks and scratches with which our bodies were covered. Rhus oxyacantha and R. pentaphylla, Celastrus senegalensis and the wild olive, with Genista ferox and G. tridens, were our chief tormentors, all, except the olive, characteristic North African species, though two or three of them have been detected in Southern Spain or in Sicily. Leaving our horses to be led up the slope, we had hot work in climbing the hill under a sun only a few degrees from the zenith, contending the while with the various thorns and hooks and prickles that molested us on every side. Every forward movement would be resisted by a dozen spines running deep into our legs or arms, and each attempt to draw back by the strong hooks with which some part of our dress was sure to be held fast. When we reached the top of the acclivity we found ourselves on the verge of a very extensive plateau, in some parts nearly dead level, in others undulating, and rising into knolls of tolerably uniform height. Before long we reached a point commanding a wide view over the country on the north side of the range of hills. The slopes below us appeared to be under cultivation, and suggested the presence of a numerous population; but the distant plain of Akermout, lying somewhat east of due north, did not to our eyes afford any sign of cultivation. Jackson gives a view[3] of the Djebel Hadid as seen from the plain of Akermout, with a ruined town in the foreground, which he declares to have been utterly destroyed by the plague about the middle of the last century. The ruins, which have been seen by other travellers, being about 30 miles distant from Mogador and fully 15 from the point where we stood, were naturally not perceived by us.

Along the range of these hills are many saints’ tombs, usually standing on some prominent point above the general level of the plateau. One of these was on a slight eminence somewhat higher than that first reached by us. Our escort, on this occasion limited to three soldiers, displayed great anxiety lest we should attempt to enter the zaouia, doubtless believing that our presence would profane the sanctity of the spot.

We strained our eyes to make out as much as possible of the Great Atlas range from the vantage ground we had now attained; but the air was hazy towards the southern horizon. A faint outline was, indeed, distinctly traceable, and was sketched by Ball, but no details of any kind could be distinguished.

We estimated the height of the hilly range, where we ascended it, at about 1,500 feet above our camp at Aïn el Hadjar, which we had found to be 504 feet above the sea-level. It is not likely that any part of the Djebel Hadid much exceeds the limit of 2,000 feet above the sea, but, in a range fully 25 miles in length, it is not possible to compare altitudes accurately by the eye.

The Cistus tribe was the chief ornament of the vegetation here; and it was interesting to observe that the species were to a great extent different from those that abound in the inland districts and on the lower slopes of the Atlas. Cistus salviæfolius and C. polymorphus, both variable species, are common to this and the Atlas, although, strange to say, the latter widely-spread Mediterranean species has not been found in North Marocco. Helianthemum virgatum, hitherto seen everywhere on dry stony ground, was here wanting, as were H. niloticum and the less common H. glaucum and H. rubellum. In their places the top of the hill was in some places quite covered by large bushes of H. halimifolium and H. lavandulæfolium, both laden with masses of bright yellow flowers. On the slopes we also found H. canariense, one of the very few species, not strictly confined to the coast, that are exclusively limited to the Canary Islands and South Marocco. Another rare species of the same genus, now first seen by us, was H. Lippii. This seems to have been originally a desert plant, the sole representative of the genus in the arid regions of Beloochistan, South Persia, and the Arabian desert, whence it has spread westward through Egypt to the skirts of the Sahara. Beyond its natural home, it has been found here and there, but rarely in Syria, Asia Minor, Sicily, and South-western Marocco, and may not improbably be detected in South-eastern Spain.

Growing among the bushes on the upper part of the hill we found, in some abundance, the wild spiny form of the cultivated artichoke; whether truly indigenous, or carried hither by former inhabitants, it was impossible to decide.

On returning to our camp, some time before sunset, we found that Mr. Carstensen had received letters from Europe that bore intelligence of the terrible scenes enacted in Paris during the last days of the Commune and the final suppression of the insurrection. As was but natural, this completely engrossed our thoughts and our conversation during the evening. It was depressing to think that in the midst of the so-called advanced civilisation of Europe, to which we were now returning, ferocious passions, surpassing in their destructiveness those of the barbarian or the mere savage, may lie concealed until some unexpected shock causes their explosion.

The night was even cooler than the preceding one, and to our surprise the thermometer, about a quarter of an hour after sunrise on June 3, marked only 56° F. We employed a couple of hours in the morning in rambling about the gardens and irrigated ground near the springs, without adding much of interest to our collections, and at about 8 P.M. started for Mogador.

For some distance the country was well wooded. Orchards and olive groves did not extend much beyond the bounds of the irrigated tract; the Callitris then became predominant, intermixed, here and there, with scattered Argan trees. In open spots the two showy species of Helianthemum seen the day before, H. halimifolium and H. lavandulæfolium, were still in full flower, and we gathered, for the first time, a charming little Eryngium (E. tenue) with extremely delicate spiny leaves and involucre. Mediterranean shrubs, such as the Arbutus and Phillyrea, growing along with such local forms as Rhus oxyacantha, Statice mucronata, and Bupleurum canescens, would have sufficiently informed a botanist that he was approaching the Atlantic coast of North Africa.

We soon after crossed a belt of land showing marks of former cultivation, where no dwellings were in sight, but where we passed close to a considerable group of earthy mounds, partly overgrown by vegetation, and showing here and there the remains of massive walls of tapia that had partially resisted the process of destruction. These ruins marked the site of the large kasbah of a former Governor. According to the custom of the country this had been pillaged and destroyed some thirty years before, when the owner fell from power. The traces of man’s former presence were speedily lost as we entered on a tract of rocky ground, where the tertiary calcareous rock lay in horizontal beds, slightly excavated in places by watercourses, and cut into irregular steps. The increasing prevalence of blown sand now gave warning of a nearer approach to the shore; the distant roar of the ceaseless Atlantic breakers fell distinctly on the ear; amid the increasing masses of sand vegetation became more and more sparse; we rode on amidst undulating dunes of sand until, at length, on reaching the summit of one of the ridges, the blue Atlantic lay before us.

With mingled feelings we cast our eyes on the waters that were so soon to carry us back within the accustomed round of civilised existence. If the prospect before us were in many ways most welcome, there was yet some inevitable regret at the termination of a journey so full of interest, and, in spite of trifling drawbacks, so full of enjoyment. We felt that the time at our disposal had been too limited, and that what we had accomplished in the way of exploration fell far short of what we had expected; but enough had been done to reward us amply for the labour expended, and we indulged, as almost all genuine travellers are wont to do, in the hope of returning again to the country we were now about to leave.

We had reached the shore at a point about five miles north of Mogador, which, however, was concealed from view by the lofty sand dunes that have accumulated on the reef of rocks that stretches out seaward on the north side of the town. For more than half the distance we rode along the flat beach, where the sand gave somewhat firmer footing than it did above high water mark. Our soldiers took the opportunity for celebrating the prosperous termination of our journey by an exhibition of ‘powder-play,’ for which the ground was admirably adapted. Starting together, but not attempting to keep line, they urge their horses to their fastest gallop; while at full speed they discharge their long guns at an imaginary foe, fling the gun up in the air, and catch it again; and finally the horse is stopped short, and thrown upon his haunches, by the sudden pressure of the severe bit used in this country.

To avoid a long detour our course to Mogador lay over the high sand dunes that encompass the town on the land side. The forms into which the sand is fashioned by the wind here attracted our attention. In many places the appearances were exactly those that are found in the higher region of the Alps immediately after a fall of fresh snow, and in truth the phenomena are nearly identical. At a temperature considerably below freezing point snow commonly falls in the condition of fine grains that do not cohere when they meet, and, in a mechanical sense, differ from those of sand only by being lighter. Our observations on the relation between the form of the larger ridges and the smaller ripple marks, and the direction of the wind, quite agree with those published by Maw.[4]

When at length we escaped from the maze of ridges and hollows, and stood upon the brow of the last sandy eminence, rather before 2 P.M., we found ourselves unexpectedly near to our journey’s end. The town of Mogador, backed by the island, with a few small coasting vessels lying in the channel between them, presented to our unaccustomed eyes an almost imposing aspect. As usual, one of the soldiers had ridden ahead to announce our approach; and when, after passing by the Christian burial-ground, we drew near to the walls, crowds of people came out to meet us, and to gaze upon the strangers, of whose adventures in the Great Atlas fanciful reports had gone abroad. At the gate several mounted soldiers, sent by the Governor as a guard of honour, joined the procession; and thus heralded, with all due state, we made our solemn entry into Mogador, and, along with our kind host, rode directly to the British Consulate.