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CHAPTER IX.

The Shelluh sheik bribed — Arrangements for stopping at Arround — Medical practice among the Shelluhs — Arabic correspondence — Unexpected difficulty — Strange fancies of the natives — Threatening weather — Our house at Arround — Gloomy morning — Saint’s tomb — Escape from our guides — Strange encounter — Snow-storm — Tagherot pass — Descent to Arround — Continuance of bad weather — Sacrifice of a sheep — Shelluh mountaineers — Fauna of the Great Atlas — Return to Hasni — Deplorable condition of our camp.

We had at last succeeded in breaking the charm that seemed to have hitherto kept us from the inner recesses of the Great Atlas; but we had done little more, and what we had as yet seen and handled of the vegetation of the higher region merely served to whet the appetite, and increase our natural voracity. Our talk on that night of our return to Hasni, and our first thoughts on the following morning, turned on the possibility of making the wretched village of Arround our base of operations for two or three days, as it was clear that only by starting from that point would it be possible to make a fruitful ascent of the higher ridges. During the day’s excursion, Hooker had ascertained a point of great practical importance. While mounting the slopes on the west flank of the valley, he noticed a path leading upwards towards a narrow ravine at its head, and learned in answer to his inquiries that this led to Sous—the great valley on the farther side of the main range. It was clear then, that, with Arround as a starting point, we should have the advantage of a beaten track as far as the crest of the ridge; and, even if this should not be very high, we might, from that point, ascend one of the adjoining summits.

The greater part of the following day, May 14, was devoted to putting our large collections into order; but meanwhile negotiations for carrying out our plan of sleeping at Arround were the most pressing business, and at length, after endless palavers, and discussing countless difficulties, were brought to the desired conclusion. Almost alone among the men in authority, whom we met in Marocco, the sheik of this valley seemed to have no special aversion to us as strangers and Christians. For very sufficient reasons he was longing for the moment that should see us and our escort depart from his district; but meanwhile he seemed anxious to keep on friendly terms, and do what he could to meet our wishes. We had already made him several presents; but here, as elsewhere in the country, we found that most of the articles we had provided for that purpose were little appreciated. Opera glasses, musical boxes, and even watches are of small account, unless with the comparatively civilised men who have lived in the coast towns or the great cities: cutlery is much more sought after, and some large sheath knives, of which we had a fair supply, were always highly acceptable; but fire-arms, not necessarily of modern make, are far more welcome than any other gifts. On this occasion we resorted to a strange engine of seduction. Before leaving London, Ball had happened to pick up, in an old curiosity shop, an antiquated weapon, of the size of a large horse pistol, with four barrels intended to be loaded and discharged all together. This, which we had called the ‘young mitrailleuse,’ had been the subject of many jokes during the journey, but was now with due solemnity presented to the sheik. The effect of our munificence was immediate and satisfactory, and the sheik was gained over to our cause. Fortunately, the efficiency of the ‘young mitrailleuse’ was not tested while we were in the country. It may probably have been since employed with deadly effect; but it is doubtful whether the victim would be the person against whom the four barrels may have been directed.

The sheik undertook that one of the houses in Arround should be cleared out for our reception; but, to provide for all contingencies, we arranged to take with us the two smaller and lighter tents, along with the usual supply of botanical paper and tin boxes.

Many natives of both sexes came to our camp during the day, in quest of medical treatment, as they had done during our absence the day before; and we were much amused to find that Abraham had coolly undertaken medical practice on his own account. He had provided himself with a large bottle of black stuff, containing heaven knows what nauseous ingredients, and this was doled out impartially to all applicants. It appeared to be a strong purgative, and may have answered sufficiently well in the rather frequent cases of indigestion arising from overeating. Of more serious complaints, ophthalmia was one of the most prevalent here, as elsewhere throughout South Marocco. Scrofulous sores and strictures were also common. Women desirous of offspring were brought to the camp by their husbands, and some cases of natural deformity also presented themselves. All seemed to have that great condition for remarkable cures that depends on a firm faith in the efficacy of the remedy. We had deliberately refused to follow the example of many African travellers, by including aphrodisiacs among the drugs carried with us, and all applications for such were met by a stern refusal.

We found time in the afternoon to examine the vegetation of the valley in the neighbourhood of our camp, of which we had hitherto obtained merely a passing view. The general aspect was very much what may be found at a level lower by 1,200 or 1,400 feet in Southern Spain or Calabria. In the valley bottom the prevailing trees were poplars—the common black poplar, and a small-leaved variety of the white poplar—and Salix purpurea, with walnut, olive, and carob, the latter three being extensively cultivated. The small-leaved ash, Fraxinus oxyphylla, was also rather common, but does not grow to so large a size as in North Marocco. On drier ground, on the stony slopes, Callitris occurs here and there; and two junipers—J. oxycedrus and J. phœnicea,—are rather frequent, and when allowed to reach maturity attain to the stature of small trees. The evergreen oak is the predominant tree on the flanks of the mountains, and exhibits several varieties, but rarely attains its natural size. Shrubs and low bushes, as usual in the Mediterranean region, are very numerous and varied, most of them, such as the alaternus, phillyrea, lentisk, oleander, and colutea, being widely diffused species of Southern Europe; and a beautiful honeysuckle (Lonicera etrusca), with large, sweet-scented flowers, was a conspicuous ornament. Along with these, several common forms of Central and North-western Europe, such as the common bramble, the ivy, the dog-rose and elder, here find their southern limit. It was not possible, however, for a botanist to look about him at any spot in the valley without being struck by abundant evidence that he had entered a region very distinct from any part of Southern Europe or Algeria. This impression was strengthened throughout our ride of the previous day, as we ascended from our camp to the foot of the ancient moraine, and everywhere saw conspicuous plants peculiar to the middle and lower zones of the Great Atlas. Our first impression was that the proportion of such endemic species was larger in this part of the valley than in the higher zone; but this was due to the fact, that so many more of those inhabiting the lower zone strike the eye by their greater size and by the brilliancy of their flowers. When we came to examine our collections with the requisite care, we found that about one-seventh of all the species found in the middle region of this valley is made up of peculiar endemic species, while the proportion of the same element in the higher region rises to one-fifth.[1]

We were especially struck by the complete absence of new generic types. There were, indeed, but two species seen in this valley belonging to North African genera—Callitris and Lotononis—that do not extend to Europe. All the rest are referable to European types, of which the large majority extend to the central and north-western parts of our continent. No representatives of tropical and sub-tropical types, such as are seen in Arabia, Persia, and Northern India, are here to be found.

During our absence on the 13th, a courier had arrived from Mogador, with letters from M. Carstensen. The man had first gone to Marocco, and thence, for the most part following our track, had found us in our Atlas head-quarters, and was well pleased with the trifling pay of a few shillings for the journey. To-day another courier made his appearance, bearing answers to the letter despatched to El Graoui, on the morning of the 12th, so that we had no reason to complain of remissness on his part. Probably for the purpose of shifting an unpopular measure from his own shoulders, the wary old Governor forwarded a letter from the Viceroy, expressly sanctioning our stay in the Aït Mesan valley, for as long a time as should be required for the objects of our journey. Along with this, El Graoui wrote to Hooker, expressing a hope that our stay would not be prolonged more than was really necessary, inasmuch as the villages of the valley were very poor. Further provision was made to meet Maw’s desire to return to England, and an order sent that two soldiers should be detached from our escort to accompany him to Mogador.

It was curious to observe that whenever literary knowledge was in request, whether for reading and fully understanding letters addressed to us in Arabic, or for the composition of letters to be addressed by us in the same language, the member of the expedition always most relied upon was Hamed, Ball’s personal attendant, one of the poor fellows engaged at Mogador to act in a menial capacity and accompany the expedition on foot. It is true of the western dialect spoken in Marocco, as well as of the purer Arabic of the east, that a familiar knowledge of the spoken tongue does not imply a full acquaintance with the written language, and Abraham was evidently sometimes at fault. Education, in a literary sense, is not among Moslems a privilege of rank or wealth, and is quite as often found among the poorest as with those above them. Our two Kaïds were both ostentatiously illiterate, and the soldiers knew no more than their officers; and poor Hamed, alone of all our suite, seemed to be worth taking into council on these occasions.

Once more the insatiable rapacity of our escort gave us trouble, and proved to us that the objection to our making a long stay among these poor mountaineers was not an unreasonable one. We ascertained that the demands of these shameless fellows on their own behalf, apart from the rest of the expedition, rose to forty fowls a day, with bread, tea, and sugar in proportion, while they were constantly grumbling at the insufficiency of this allowance for ten persons, and demanding money from the natives in lieu of the other luxuries to which they thought themselves entitled. We sincerely regretted our want of power to put a stop to these abuses; but it was impossible to sacrifice the main object of our journey, and we merely resolved to acquaint El Graoui with the facts after our return to Mogador.

We rose early on the morning of the 15th, and lost no time in preparing for our departure. Just when all seemed ready for a start a new and serious difficulty arose. Hooker and Maw had both provided for the journey several large tin cases painted green, and intended for the transport of living plants from Marocco to England; and, as a matter of course, some of these were amongst the luggage packed up for the expedition to Arround. When the sheik arrived about 7 A.M. he at once declared that he had undertaken to conduct us to Arround, but that to carry the luggage he saw prepared was utterly out of the question. A long and vehement controversy ensued; at first it was impossible to understand the real nature of the difficulty, and when this was gradually made clear, the objections seemed to us so incoherent and inconsistent that we suspected them to be mere pretexts to cover some unavowed obstacle in the sheik’s mind.

It appeared that the tin cases were the real stumbling blocks. ‘When the people of Arround see those cases,’ said Si Hassan, ‘nothing will persuade them that they are not filled with treasure—they will attack us in the night, and will kill you and me too, in order to get possession of them.’ ‘They will believe the boxes to be full of gunpowder’—so ran another version of the difficulty—‘and think you have come to take possession of their valley, and will fight to resist your remaining there.’ We suspected at the time that the unavowed cause of offence lay in the boxes being painted green—the colour of the Prophet and his descendants—but from the slight attention paid by the mountaineers to the observances of Moslem law, even in more important matters, we afterwards rejected this explanation, and were inclined to believe that the sheik knew his own people, and truly represented the strange fancies to which they are subject.

The tin boxes were reluctantly sacrificed, and with them the possibility of making any large collection of living plants in the upper region of the Great Atlas. The luggage was repacked, and after several hours’ delay we started about 10.30 A.M. by the same track which had been the scene of our recent night adventure.

The weather during the last two days had been gradually changing from the condition of ‘set fair’ to which we had been used since our arrival in Marocco. The barometer had fallen progressively fully five millimetres, and the clouds had changed from their ordinary condition of light, separate fleecy masses gathered round the higher ridges during the day to a dense canopy stretching continuously over the visible portion of the sky. If choice had been left to us we should not have selected this morning for our excursion; but, after overcoming so many difficulties, there was no thought of letting weather stand in our way, and we could only resolve to make the best of it whatever it might be. On this occasion we had rather more time to spare than two days before, and we added a good deal to our previous collections in the valley, though less than we could have done if the precious morning hours had not been wasted in controversy.

We had many an occasion for admiring the sureness of foot of the mules and horses in this country; but we also noticed that, like their fellows elsewhere, they have some peculiarities of disposition that a traveller should take note of. Maw’s mule, hitherto remarkably steady, had a trick of keeping to the outer verge of the path in steep places, and when his head was turned inward his hind foot would go over the edge. After recovering himself once or twice, he at last slipped completely. Maw saved himself in good time, while the animal rolled down the steep slope towards the torrent. In many places this is so precipitous that the beast must have been killed; as it was, he was stopped by some thorny bushes, and was with some trouble got back to the track, a sadder and a wiser mule for the rest of that day at least. It is well known that several fatal accidents in the Alps have occurred in places of the same character from interference with a mule, who should be left to take his own course. The now almost familiar road to Arround, with the ascent of the watercourse, seeming more objectionable each time that we passed it, was accomplished without further incident, and no other delays than those involved in plant-collecting. In six hours from Hasni we reached the village, whose inhabitants had all turned out of doors to gaze on the Christian strangers who, from some inscrutable motive, had come a second time to their secluded valley, and now seemed resolved to fix their abode there.

A house, the best in the village we were told, had been prepared for us by the simple process of turning out its inmates, and to this we were at once conducted. On the ground floor were two quite dark and low cellars or

dens, seemingly filthy, but which we were not inclined to explore. Ascending by some rickety steps, we reached the upper floor, the larger part of which was occupied by a rude open verandah, at each end of which was a little closet about seven feet square, one of which was occupied by Maw, while the other was used as a kitchen, the open verandah serving as our sitting-room, and as night quarters for Hooker and Ball. As usual in the Shelluh houses, the doors were only about four feet, and the rooms and verandah not over five feet high, making it inconvenient for us to move about. In most of the houses there are underground cellars to which the inhabitants retire in winter, as is the custom in Armenia and in some of the higher valleys of the French Alps.

We scarcely had been settled in the house when several applicants for medical advice presented themselves; but these were disposed of soon enough to leave some remaining daylight, which was devoted to a stroll up the left, or SE. branch of the upper valley. The flat ground was parcelled into small fields divided by stone dykes, and intersected by slender irrigation channels. The fields seemed to be carefully tilled, rye, barley, and beans being the only crop now above ground. Maize is sown in the latter part of May and ripens in the course of six weeks. We saw with surprise a few vines in this inclement spot, and also Madder (Rubia tinctorum) seemingly wild, but doubtless originally introduced for native use.

The mountains, as far as we could see them, looked forbidding, and the scene this evening was even more sombre than it had been two days before. Leaden clouds roofed the valley across, and completely hid the higher ridges; slight gusts of chilling wind blew at intervals, and all the tokens of impending bad weather warned us not to indulge in cheerful anticipations for the morrow. On this occasion we had limited our escort to two soldiers, whose presence showed that we were under the shadow of imperial protection, but who would doubtless have been utterly useless if the natives had harboured hostile designs. Of such, however, there was not the slightest indication. The demeanour of the people was respectful and friendly, rather than the reverse. Our every movement was watched, but from a distance, and there was none of the intrusive curiosity so often complained of by travellers among semi-barbarous people. The men all habitually wear the hooded cloak, of dark-coloured goat’s hair, somewhat looser than the Moorish jellabia, which appears to be peculiar to the tribes of the Great Atlas. Whether the slight variations in the triangular patch of coloured stuff with rude embroidery that is inserted at the back, serves to distinguish the men of one tribe from another, we failed to ascertain. The women, who make but a faint show of concealing half the face when approaching strangers, seemed to be rather better favoured than those we had seen in the lower valley. They partly shave the head, and twine the remaining hair into two broad plaits, bringing these forward crosswise over the forehead.

With a view to possible difficulties arising with the sheik, we had taken Abraham with us, leaving the camp at Hasni for twenty-four hours in charge of Crump, Hooker’s English attendant; but it was arranged that the former was to return on the following morning, much to his own satisfaction, as the cold and discomfort of this Alpine village seemed to make both him and the Marocco soldiers perfectly miserable.

Our evening meal was enlivened by one of some precious bottles of generous wine that Maw had added to our stores, reserved for special occasions, such as the present. After this we should gladly have gone to sleep, if stern duty had not forbidden any such luxury. The minimum of evening work for the travelling botanist is to lay out between dry paper the contents of his boxes and portfolios filled during the day. On this occasion the operation was more troublesome than usual, as we struggled to screen our single flickering candle from the night wind in the least exposed corner of the verandah, and midnight had come and gone before we stretched our mattresses on the earthen floor, first duly dusted with insect powder, and sought rest. In our exposed position the cold was very sensible through the night, though the thermometer did not fall below 45° Fahr.

The morning sky was so gloomy that no one awoke so early as we had intended; and at sunrise on May 16, when we loudly called for breakfast, the light was still so imperfect that it seemed as though the day had but just dawned. There was less than the usual delay; but six o’clock had passed, and we were not yet ready to start. To our great satisfaction we found that the sheik did not propose to accompany us to-day, but had appointed two men of the village to act as guides. With these, and our usual personal attendants, whom we knew by experience to be active pedestrians, we started about 6.30 A.M. to ascend the main southern branch of the valley. For rather more than a mile the way over the filled-up bed of the old moraine lake is quite flat, and for a considerable distance beyond this the ascent along the bottom of the valley is very gentle; but we were led by the aspect of the ground to ascend the rather steep western slope at a part much farther from the village than we had traversed three days before.

Our inducement to leave the track was the wish to examine certain solitary trees that we noticed scattered at rather wide intervals on the slopes, nowhere descending below the level of 8,000 feet above the sea, but extending upwards, where they find a resting place, through a vertical zone of about 1,500 feet. The first we were able to reach, which was similar in aspect to the rest, showed a trunk more than two feet in diameter, and about thirty feet high, but broken off and shattered at the top; the branches, with their very dark foliage, diminishing in length upwards, give the whole a conical form. We took it at the time for Juniperus phœnicea, which is rather a common tree in the lower valleys. Subsequent examination showed it, however, to differ from that species, and to be identical with Juniperus thurifera, a tree hitherto known only in Central Spain, Portugal, and Algeria, and apparently nowhere common. From the number of dead stems seen, it seems to have once girdled this mass of the Atlas with a belt of forest, which has been gradually thinned, and is doomed to ultimate destruction. The existing trees are probably of high antiquity, and their destruction is mainly due to the practice of setting fire to the brushwood to gain pasture for animals; while the young plants, of which not a single one was seen, would be cut off while yet seedlings by the tooth of the goat, the great enemy of tree vegetation—an animal whose disastrous influence, acting indirectly on the climate of wide regions, entitles it to rank as one of the worst enemies of the human race.

Although the ground was to a great extent occupied by the two dwarf bushes seen on our first visit, Alyssum spinosum and Bupleurum spinosum, there was no lack of new forms of plants to maintain our enthusiasm; and, in spite of the desire to push on, many a halt occurred as one or other lighted on an object of fresh interest. As a natural consequence of our having chosen to make our way along the side of the glen, instead of following its bed, we had to cross several projecting spurs, the last rather steep, before descending to a spot where, at the extreme head of the valley, our guides pointed out a Saint’s tomb, consisting of a rude stone hut with a space five or six feet square in the centre. When we reached this, the guides made it clear to us that we had arrived at the end of our excursion. The hut stands at the junction of the streams issuing from two rocky ravines. That on the west side was apparently very steep and pathless; the other, mounting about due S., was nearly equally steep, but we could see that a beaten track ascended along the opposite bank of the slender torrent that tumbled over the rocks at its entrance. The native guides confirmed the statement before made to Hooker, that by that tract lay the way to Sous; but, by expressive pantomime, they explained that danger lay in that direction, and that the people of the other side were addicted to the practice of shooting at strangers. We were careful to avoid controversy, and set ourselves to collect plants in a patch of boggy ground near the hut, where familiar northern species, such as Stellaria uliginosa, Sagina Linnæi, Montia fontana and Veronica Beccabunga, grew in company with a new species of Nasturtium, and others not before seen by us.

So intent had we been on the surrounding vegetation, that we had scarcely cast a glance at the sky overhead. This had continually assumed a more and more gloomy aspect; and at length, after due notice and preparation, the long-expected rain began, not in a heavy downpour such as often occurs in southern countries, but in that fine steady drizzle which is known to those whom the fates have led to the northern parts of our island as a Scotch mist, hateful to the lover of the picturesque and still more hateful to the botanist. On this occasion, however, it seemed to us no unmixed evil, as it furthered the execution of a stratagem that was already in our minds. Our followers were scantily clad, and felt more than we did the chilly temperature of the day, and of course the rain increased their discomfort. They were, therefore, in the right frame of mind to accept at once the suggestion that they should light a fire within the hut, therein following the example of preceding wayfarers. After muttering a few prayers, they proceeded to gather some damp sticks, and presently were busy in the attempt to make a fire out of them. Having continued for a few minutes to loiter about, still gathering plants near the hut, until the men appeared to be fully engrossed in their occupation, we started together to ascend the track leading to the summit ridge of the Atlas.

We had reached the Saint’s tomb about 9 A.M., and found its height above the sea-level to be 7,852 feet (2,393·2 m.). Little more than half-an-hour had since elapsed, so that, if no unexpected difficulty occurred, there was ample time to reach the summit of the pass which, as we thought, could scarcely be 3,000 feet above us. A number of interesting plants soon rewarded our adventure, and delayed us for a while on the rocky banks of the torrent near the bottom of the ravine, but out of view of the Saint’s tomb. On joining the track, we found it a well-made mountain path, constructed with some skill, advantage being taken of the nature of the ground to make zigzags, evidently intended for the passage of beasts of burthen.

We had ascended several hundred feet, and were looking about for plants among rocks to the left of the path, when some faint sound made us look up, and we descried, amid the rain and mist, a party of men and laden mules descending towards us down the steep ravine. There was some obvious awkwardness in the impending encounter of three Englishmen, utterly ignorant of the native tongue, with a set of wild mountaineers of the Atlas, in a spot where no stranger had ever before been seen. In such cases, the less time that is left for deliberation the better. Suspicion or greed may prompt an attack where time is left for consultation; but if people are suddenly confronted by peaceable strangers, they will rarely, unless robbers by profession, think of molesting them. The shape of the ground happened to favour this obvious bit of policy, and some projecting rocks concealed the approaching train until we suddenly confronted them at a turn of the path, and passed within a few yards, with something approaching to a grave salute. The mules appeared to be laden with goat-skins, along with other articles that we could not distinguish. Whether these were people from the northern side of the chain returning from a trading expedition in the Sous country, or men of Sous carrying goods to the capital, we never certainly ascertained; but, from noticing pieces of orange-peel on the track, we inferred that they must have descended rather low in the Sous valley; while it is certain that people going from the lower part of that valley to the city of Marocco would not have followed this circuitous and difficult track, unless urged by special reasons.

A little farther on we found, on ledges of rock near the track, several of the most interesting plants seen during the day. Thenceforward all botanising became difficult. The rain turned to sleet, and before long to snow; and, though the roughness of the ground still enabled us to discern the more conspicuous plants, it was almost impossible to secure satisfactory specimens.

Soon after the snow had set in, we heard, from below, yells and screams, and immediately guessed that the caravan from Sous had brought news to our guides at the Saint’s tomb of our escapade towards the summit of the pass. The guess was correct; and though we pushed on rather faster than before, the foremost guide soon overtook us, and addressing himself especially to Maw, who led the way during the ascent, with vehement gestures and emphatic phrases, that seemed to combine threats and injunctions with supplication, urged an immediate return. Maw judiciously had recourse to an argument of universal efficacy, and, presenting the man with a piece of silver, pointed upwards and strove to explain, by signs, that we meant to go to the top and then return. Shortly afterwards, the second man appeared, panting from the pace at which he had run up the steep ascent. He addressed himself to Ball, who came next to Maw, but was answered by the same reasoning that had prevailed with his companion.

The upper part of the ravine was wider than it had been below, and the slope rather less steep. Here, as throughout the upper valley, porphyries and porphyritic tuffs of a prevailing red colour, form the mass of the ridge; but we observed at several points intrusive masses of diorite, sometimes much resembling granite in appearance. Higher up, near the summit of the ridge, Maw noticed white crystalline limestone, of no great extent, which appeared to be intercalated with the porphyrites.

To collect plants was now scarcely possible, for the snow covered the surface, and it was necessary to kick it away from the tufts of grass or dwarf bushes, in order to ascertain what might be growing beneath. The wind, which had hitherto spared us, now joined itself to the opposing forces, driving the snow with blinding force, and making the cold, already severe, well nigh intolerable. The poor fellows who had for some way followed us without further remonstrance, now renewed with redoubled energy their appeal that we should return. Kissing the hem of our coats at one moment, brandishing their arms with passionate gestures, or actually pulling us back at another, they really impressed us more by their pitiable appearance, exposed with the slightest covering to the bitter blast, their feet and bare legs cut and bleeding from the rocks and thorny bushes of the way.

It was now apparent that the dread with which these men were evidently impressed did not arise solely from apprehension of an encounter with human enemies. Firmly believing that the heights of the Atlas are inhabited by djinns, or demons, it was obvious to our companions that the storm was caused by their anger at the intrusion of strangers into their sanctuary. We had not before noticed that one of the Shelluhs carried with him a live cock under his arm. In a state of the utmost excitement, he now proceeded to cut the animal’s throat, in order thus to appease the wrath of our supernatural foes, then renewing the appeal to us to forego further provocation.

In emphatic English, and such pantomime as we could command, we explained that we were determined to reach the top, but would then immediately return, and proceeded to face the last portion of the ascent. This lay through a broad couloir, some twenty to thirty feet wide, between steep walls of rock where, on narrow ledges giving scarcely any hold for snow, the last plants were collected. The storm, now almost a hurricane, raged with increasing violence; it was scarcely possible to face it, and our hands and feet gave scarcely any token of sensation. The thermometer, though carried in a pocket, marked 25° Fahr. (or about -4° Cent.) when last observed. Maw pushed on with increasing vigour, and, in the driving snow, was soon lost to sight. Presently, shouts were heard, and he reappeared, saying that he had reached the ridge where the ground fell away on the southern side, that he could see absolutely nothing in any direction, and, owing to the severity of the cold, found it impossible to remain. He estimated the height at rather more than one hundred feet above the point reached by Ball, who in turn was about sixty feet above Hooker. They descended through that short space; and, after very brief deliberation, decided that no more could be done, and that a speedy descent was the only possible course. The appearance of the party was singular, and not one could have been recognised by his nearest friends. Faces of a livid purple tint were enclosed by masses of hair thickly matted with ice, and the beards, frozen in the direction of the wind, projected on one side, giving a strangely distorted expression to each countenance.

After observing the aneroid barometer at the point which we estimated at 200 feet below the summit, and glancing at our watches, which marked about 2.30 P.M., we turned downwards, and set out as fast as our legs would carry us, cutting across the zigzag track now deeply covered with snow. Before long we got shelter from the violence of the wind, and began to feel the tingling of returning circulation in the hands and feet. In places the ground was steep enough to require a little caution in traversing the rocky slopes, partly grown over by tufted bushes, all now veiled in fresh snow; but little delay ensued, and in less than two hours we reached the bottom of the ravine where the track passes close to the Saint’s tomb. The shouts of our Shelluh guides had announced our approach, and we were met by the smiling faces of our Mogador attendants, who had judiciously made themselves as comfortable as circumstances permitted by keeping up a fire in the hut.

In the valley little snow had fallen, and that was half melted, and continued to fall in that intermediate condition between snow and rain that forms slush, a word of odious import except for its associations with the Christmas holidays. We learned that the sheik, Si Hassan, was waiting for us some way lower down in the valley, and without halting we pushed on to meet him. Long waiting in cold and wet does not mend any man’s temper, and the sheik, already much annoyed that his injunctions not to let us go beyond the Saint’s tomb had been ineffectual, was doubtless in a savage humour when we at length appeared, after successfully breaking through all the restraints he had contrived. Yet he managed to put a good face on the matter, offered his congratulations on our safe return, and invited us to partake of some food that was provided in a spot where an overhanging rock gave partial shelter. This did not save the poor fellows who had done their best to keep us within the intended limit from a desperate ‘blowing-up,’ and many threats of future vengeance. Drenched and cold as we were, the invitation to halt was anything but tempting; but in this country the obligations of hospitality are binding on the receiver as well as the giver, and it was necessary to wait some time and eat a few mouthfuls before proceeding on our homeward way to Arround.

As we approached the village, we witnessed a marvellous exhibition of colour that, even in our weather-beaten condition, impressed us with admiration. The steep ridges enclosing the valley were now thickly powdered with snow, but almost concealed from view by the clouds that hung low over our heads. Towards sunset these gradually rose up and melted into mist, and the whole scene was transfused with a delicate sea-green hue that seemed bright by contrast with the sombre tints in which we had been enveloped during the day. It often happens in bad weather that as the distant horizon is lit up towards sunset the rays, travelling under the dense strata of cloud that cover a mountain district, produce at that hour the effect of sudden illumination; but whether the green tint on this occasion was due to a similar colour in the distant horizon, unseen by us, or was complementary to the prevailing red colour of the surrounding rocks, we were unable to decide.

About sunset we reached our house at Arround. The open verandah on this chilly evening, with the thermometer little over 40° Fahr., was not the most comfortable place for the evening toilet, nor for working in after supper. Under ordinary circumstances, two at least of the party would infallibly have been laid up with heavy colds or worse; but the last three weeks of open-air life in this fine climate had put us all into excellent condition. A moderate supper was despatched with general satisfaction, and no one suffered further inconvenience from the roughness of the day or the coldness of the night.

As might have been expected from the unsettled state of the weather, the observations taken to determine the altitude of Arround had not been quite satisfactory. The heights deduced from comparison with Mogador, where the weather was also unsettled, were discordant to the extent of about 80 feet. A comparison of observations taken here and at Hasni, on the 13th and 15th inst., with a few hours’ interval, gave a much nearer agreement; and the mean of these, being 6,463 feet (1,970 m.), is that which we have adopted. A boiling-water observation at 8 P.M. in the evening, with the temperature of the air at 40° Fahr., gave a result higher by 20 feet; but it helps to show that the probable error is not large.

The answers to our inquiries as to the Pass reached during the day were, as we had reason to believe, designedly vague and indefinite. It appears to be known as Tagherot, and to serve for communication with Tifinout, which is the name of a mountain district with one or more large villages, whose drainage is carried to the Sous. The main valley of the Sous must, however, lie to the south of Tifinout, and extend much farther east. Our corrected results make the point at which our last observation was taken, 4,821 feet above Arround, giving for the Tagherot Pass 5,021 feet above Arround, or 11,484 feet (3,500·4 m.) above the sea.

In Appendix A the reasons which showed the necessity for a considerable correction to the original observations made since our arrival at Mogador are fully explained. The difference in the resulting heights throughout our journey is not of much moment as regards the lower stations; but it increases rapidly with increasing altitude, and in the case of the Tagherot Pass amounts to about 500 feet. As this correction was disclosed only after careful examination and comparison of all the observations, the first result, which was derived from the rough reduction made at the time, communicated in a letter from Hooker to the late Sir Roderick Murchison,[2] and which appeared in other published notices of our journey, is probably erroneous to the extent above mentioned.

Assuming our final results to be pretty nearly correct, and having been unable to hear of any other easy or frequented pass in this part of the range, we seem to be justified in concluding that this section of the Great Atlas chain, as compared with any of the mountain systems of Europe, maintains a remarkably high mean level. The height of the projecting summits in the adjoining portions of the chain was variously estimated by us at 1,500 or 2,000 feet above the Tagherot Pass. Taking the lower of these estimates, and assuming the other depressions to be no higher than Tagherot, we should have for the mean height of the main ridge at least 12,200 feet. Judging from all the distant views we were able to obtain, the portion of the Atlas chain near the head of the Aït Mesan valley is very similar in character to that extending eastward to the sources of the Oued Tessout, and does not reach a higher elevation. If this opinion be well founded, we have in this part of the Great Atlas a range, fully 80 miles in length, which in its mean elevation surpasses any other of equal length in Europe, or in the countries bordering on the Mediterranean. The chain of the Pennine Alps, from the Col de Bonhomme to the Simplon, alone approaches the same limit, as, excluding those limiting passes, the mean elevation of the dividing ridge for a distance of over 90 miles is about 11,800 English feet. That of the Mont Blanc range, from the Cime des Fours to the Pointe d’Orny, probably equals the mean height of the Great Atlas, being about 12,300 feet, but this is only about 25 miles in length. Excluding the mountains of Central Asia, and the Andes of Bolivia and Peru, neither of which can be spoken of as mountain chains in the ordinary sense, the only considerable range surpassing the Atlas in height is the higher part of the Caucasus, between the peaks of Elbruz and Kasbek, whose mean height, for a distance exceeding 110 miles, must reach, if it does not surpass, the limit of 13,000 feet.

Our usual evening occupation was pursued under greater difficulties than usual. There was not much wind; but the cold was severely felt in the open verandah, and the portion of our day’s harvest that was gathered in a wet state had to be left till the morning’s light should enable us to give our specimens the requisite treatment.

Our design, not disclosed to any of our native followers, had been to remain another day at Arround, and, if circumstances were favourable, to ascend some projecting point in the range that should command a panoramic view. We had, however, scarcely opened our eyes on the morning of May 17 when we clearly perceived that the fates had decided against our scheme. Snow had fallen steadily during the night, and both branches of the valley above the village were thickly covered. The sky overhead was of the same leaden complexion as that of the previous day, and flakes of snow falling slowly showed that the disposition of the weather continued unchanged. The continuous fall of the barometer for three days before the rain set in had prepared us for a persistent fit of bad weather; so we were less disappointed than we should otherwise have been, and acquiesced as a matter of course in the preparations for our departure.

The natives still flocked to the entrance of our house, seeking medical advice from the Christian hakim. When these had been disposed of, and all seemed ready for our departure, an unexpected incident occurred. Eight or ten women, dragging with them a sheep, entered the house in a tumultuous way, crowding up the stairs and into the verandah, addressed vehement entreaties to Hooker, and suddenly cut the sheep’s throat in his presence. Then followed more passionate entreaties, a document was thrust into his hand, and we were left at a loss to guess the meaning of the strange scene. At length, through Ambak’s increasing skill as interpreter, the matter was made sufficiently clear. A number of men of the village, the husbands or fathers of our suppliants, had been carried off as prisoners to Marocco, for non-payment of taxes, and were there confined in the horrible subterranean dungeons that serve as prisons. The object of these poor women was to obtain from El Graoui an order for their release, through the intercession of Hooker. A promise to do what was possible on their behalf was readily given; but, although a courteous answer was afterwards sent through the consul at Mogador, it may be feared that little attention was paid by the powerful Governor of this region to the representations of Christian strangers.

The state of the prisons in Marocco is one of many scandals that disgrace the administration of this country, though an apologist might suggest that in this respect Marocco is only a century or two behind the most civilised States of Europe, and not thirty years behind the late kingdom of Naples. When in the city of Marocco, we were told that about 4,000 prisoners, of whom the large majority were unlucky peasants, unable or unwilling to pay taxes, were confined in dungeons. Criminals who have committed murders and robberies frequently escape by taking refuge at some of the numerous sanctuaries scattered over the whole territory, while lesser offenders and mere defaulters are caught wholesale. No food is provided for prisoners by the authorities; but the means of keeping body and soul together are generally forthcoming, through the kindness of relatives, or the charitable feeling which is common here, as in other Mohammedan countries.

The survival among the Bereber tribes of the practice of sacrificing an animal to propitiate the favour of a man in authority, is a fact deserving the attention of ethnologists. Another instance of a similar kind came to our knowledge a few weeks later, and we had recently seen that the same rite is observed to avert the displeasure of evil spirits.

Our increased acquaintance with the flora of the Great Atlas did not much modify our first impressions. Making due allowance for the earliness of the season, and for the adverse conditions that may have concealed from us some species inhabiting the higher zone, it was clear that the vegetation here differs very much from that of all the lofty mountain masses of Southern Europe and Western Asia, and especially in the absence of those families that elsewhere form the chief ornaments of the higher mountain zone, and which we are accustomed to associate with the glories of the Alpine flora. There was here to be seen no gentian, no primrose or Androsace, no rhododendron, no anemone, no potentilla, and none but lowland forms of saxifrage and ranunculus.

Our first impression had been that the flora is absolutely very poor; but this was due mainly to the fact that so large a proportion of the plants have inconspicuous flowers. Comparing the produce of our day’s work with that of high mountain excursions made elsewhere, the species are not deficient in variety, but show a singularly small proportion of showy flowers. As regards novelty, we had nothing to complain of; for, in the upper part of this valley, out of 151 species collected, 31 are described as new; and, so far as we know, are peculiar to the Great Atlas chain. This gives about the same proportion of endemic species as the Sierra Nevada of Granada, always regarded as a singularly rich botanical district.

The most remarkable feature of the flora of this region, is, undoubtedly, the very large proportion of common plants of the colder temperate region (Central and North-Western Europe), here found associated with species of very different type. Nearly one-half (70 out of 151) of the species found in the upper zone, belong to this category, and the proportion is here actually larger than it is in the higher mountains of Southern Spain. It was further remarkable that several of these northern species, such as the wild gooseberry, are plants that do not extend to the South of Spain, although climatal conditions must be at least equally favourable, and whose nearest known habitat is six or seven hundred miles distant. Especially to be noted was the fact that, with the doubtful exception of Sagina Linnæi (the Spergula saginoides of the older botanists), not one of the plants in question is characteristically an Alpine species, or typical of the Arctic or glacial flora. Combining this with the almost complete absence of rushes and sedges, we are forced to conclude that, whatever agencies may have contributed to make up the existing flora of the Great Atlas, transport by floating ice during the last glacial period cannot have been amongst them. If such ice-rafts were ever borne to what was then probably a long western peninsula of Northern Africa, they must either have foundered at sea with all their vegetable crew, or, if cast ashore, must have found an inhospitable region where the voyagers were starved, and left no descendants.

As was to be expected, from the habitual dryness of the climate, ferns were here deficient in number and variety. In the upper region we found very sparingly six of the common species of Northern Europe; and lower down, in the middle part of the valley, we were able to add to our lists but two southern forms.

About one-third only of the species found in the upper-region could be described as properly belonging to the Mediterranean flora; most of these being widely-spread plants, while a few are exclusively confined to the nearest neighbouring mountain regions—the Lesser Atlas of Algeria or the mountains of Southern Spain. But there was little in the general aspect of the vegetation to suggest any special connection with either; and several of the conspicuous plants have been hitherto known only in very distant regions. A bright-flowered Veronica appeared to be no more than a large variety of a species peculiar to Asia Minor; Medicago suffruticosa had hitherto been seen only in the Pyrenees; and Evax Heldreichii had been detected nowhere nearer than the mountains of Sicily and Eastern Algeria. Our original expectation of finding some connecting links between the special flora of the Canary Islands and that of North Africa was so far completely negatived, and we saw nothing to suggest their existence.

The most prominent characteristics of the mountain flora of the Great Atlas were found to be of a negative character. If asked to point out the positive features that most struck us, we should in the first place note the prevalence of Cruciferæ and Caryophylleæ, the former reckoning one-ninth and the latter one-tenth of the whole number of flowering plants. Of conspicuous genera we had especially remarked Chrysanthemum, Galium, and Linaria. Of the first of these we found two new species, one of which, from its remarkable buff-coloured rays and large scarious involucres, has been named Chrysanthemum Catananche.

The state of the weather and the earliness of the season may partially account for the scarcity of animal life in the upper part of the Aït Mesan valley; but, from all we could learn, this appears to be a characteristic feature of the Great Atlas. The lion is said to exist in the lower valleys, and especially in Sous, but we were led to suspect that the animal so called by the natives is the leopard. The lion undoubtedly exists in the low country, but appears to be now rare. Those sent as presents from the Sultan to crowned heads have generally been taken in the valleys east of Fez. The only one of the Carnivora seen by us was a rather large creature, resembling a civet in form, but with no markings on the yellowish brown fur, once seen near our camp at Hasni. Birds were remarkably scarce, and the only conspicuous kind observed near enough to be identified much resembled the red-legged partridge, and was seen at a height of from 9,000 to 10,000 feet in the ascent to the Tagherot Pass. Instead of going in pairs, as that species is used to do, these formed a small covey. A single scorpion, of large size, seemingly of the species common in the low country, was found under a stone by Maw. Of the numerous reptiles that abound about the skirts of the mountain range, few, except lizards, seem to frequent the interior valleys; and the latter are wanting, or at least rare, in the higher region. Insects were also infrequent, and none were found under stones above the level of 9,000 feet.

Our brief stay among the Shelluhs in this valley helped to confirm our previous impression that they form the best element in the population of Marocco. How much of this superiority is due to race, and how much to the conditions of existence in a mountain country, where steady labour is indispensable, may be a question for discussion; but as the same is also apparent among the people long settled in the low country at the foot of the mountains, it may be inferred that the inherited qualities of the mountain tribes are not speedily lost when they are subjected to altered conditions. We are told by Rohlfs that on the northern skirts of the Marocco Sahara the Shelluhs have adopted a predatory life, and are the most dreaded of all the wandering robbers of that region. But when we learn that all the fertile oases of the Sahara have been monopolised by a small class of Arab descent, who rest their claims on religious authority, it is not apparent that there is any alternative for those who do not belong to the privileged class; and, under such an anomalous condition of society, the energy of the superior race will show itself in robbery, where that becomes the only means of obtaining a livelihood. To judge from what we saw of the country, the best thing that could happen for Marocco would be the substitution for the Moorish government of an authority strong enough to keep the Bereber tribes from intestine feuds, and intelligent enough to leave them a large measure of self-government, under a moderate and just fiscal system. Gradual extension of irrigation works would fit for cultivation large tracts now unproductive, and the superfluous population of the mountain valleys would spread into the plains, and develop the latent resources of the country. If it be said that the gradual diffusion of more intelligent ideas of government may gradually draw the Sultans of Marocco into the path of progress, and thus effect without violence as rapid an advance as is compatible with the ideas and character of the native population, the answer seems to be that this supposition is not probable in itself, and is not justified by experience.

For over a thousand years since the date of the Saracen conquest the two races that make up the population have remained perfectly distinct. The gradual extension of the central authority may have done something for the maintenance of external tranquillity, but it has been marked by a general and persistent decline in the prosperity of the country. It suffices to read the description given by Leo Africanus, himself a Moor, of the numerous large and thriving towns visited by him in the early years of the sixteenth century, just at the time when they were brought under the rule of the Moorish Sultans, to measure the vast falling off that has since followed.

The Moorish government is marked by two fatal defects, from which it seems unlikely to free itself. That religious fanaticism should have taken deep root in a country long exposed to the attacks of not less fanatical enemies was quite inevitable; but for two centuries there has been peace with Portugal, and the brief Spanish war in 1861 does not seem to have much altered the state of feeling as to Europeans; yet the hatred to Christians as such seems to be quite as strong among the Moors at this day as at any former period, and while it exists must continue to be a serious barrier to industrial progress. Among the Shelluhs fanaticism has evidently no deep hold on the people. Some of the chiefs may share, or affect to share, in what they doubtless consider the tone of good society among the rulers of the country; but our experience of the people agrees with that of Jackson, who lived for some time near Agadir, and found there a positive desire among the people of all classes that he should establish himself permanently among them.

More serious even than fanaticism, as an obstacle to good government, is the seeming incapacity of the Moor to estimate any but immediate results, or to make any effort of which the good effect will not be very speedily visible. To prove to a Sultan of Marocco that such a public work or other improvement would double his revenue at the end of twenty or thirty years would be sheer waste of breath. It would never occur to a Moor that a benefit so distant, however great, was worth the slightest present exertion. Hence the utter neglect of public works, of mineral wealth, and of the forests which should be an abundant source of national wealth.

We were somewhat surprised to find among the Aït Mesan people, a decided taste for ornament, of which no trace is perceptible among the Arabs of the low country. We noticed that the lintels of the doors at Arround were decorated with rude carving in geometrical patterns, diamonds, circles, and triangles. Saddlecloths had similar chequered patterns in black and white, reminding Hooker of fabrics made by the Lepchas in Sikkim.

We had scarcely started to descend the valley when it began to sleet. As soon as we reached the village below, this turned to rain, which continued with little intermission throughout the day. The halt for luncheon offered little attraction to any of the party, and was curtailed as much as possible. It is a proof of the variety of the vegetation, that although we had already twice passed through the valley, and made considerable collections, we noticed on this occasion two or three plants growing close to the path which none of us had before seen.

A little anxiety was felt as to the ford in the river; and in truth it was a piece of good fortune that the weather had been so cold, and that snow instead of rain had fallen on the mountains. A slight rise of the stream must make the ford impassable. We might have made our way on foot along the E. side of the valley, though this appears pathless below the ford, and discovered some way for passing the stream lower down; but our baggage and precious collections could scarcely have followed that way, and practically we should have been prisoners for several days. As it was, the water at the ford was no higher than usual; the increased supply from the lower slopes was doubtless compensated by the cutting off of the drainage of the upper region, now deeply covered with snow.

Soon after crossing the stream, we were met by Abraham, dressed in his best, who in this valley assumed quite a lofty air. He informed us, with a tone of great elation, that the country people took him for a sherreeff, and, had come out to ask a Jew for his blessing. The path was in places very slippery, and it was impossible to travel fast, and so it happened that the daylight was beginning to fade when we returned to our camp. This displayed a doleful spectacle. After more than twenty-four hours’ rain the piece of flat ground which we had selected was turned into a large pool of slippery mud. Hooker’s tent had been left standing; but the wet had worked its way inside, and there was scarcely a dry spot to be found, while there was no choice but to pitch the smaller tents in the midst of the general sludge. In such a case the best plan is to make a floor of branches and leafy twigs, and the carob trees that grew close at hand were at once requisitioned for the purpose. The Alpine Club tent, though the canvas was wet, when set over this rough flooring, afforded very tolerable shelter and freedom from the all-pervading mud.

The advantages of this tent were further proved during the night. When pitched in open ground it depends, like every other tent, on such support as tent pegs can give; but when trees are at hand the supporting rope can be rigged fore and aft in such a way as to defy any storm to upset it. During the night a furious gale arose, as it seemed, quite suddenly, accompanied by torrents of rain; the tent pegs were drawn out of the muddy soil; and twice Hooker’s tent fell bodily to the ground, luckily with no other bad result than to envelop the sleeper in the clammy folds of the wet canvas. The soldiers contrived to keep their tent standing; but those who mounted guard, and the natives sent by the sheik for the same duty, must have passed a miserable night. The excitement caused by the falling of the tent, when the whole camp turned out with loud outcries, must have been welcome as a relief from the dreariness of the time.

The storm of the night marked the end of the bad weather, and the morning of the 18th brought back to us the clear air and blue sky to which we had been hitherto accustomed, and which rarely left us during the remainder of our journey. The morning hours were fully occupied, and the short time we could spare for examining the low ground near our camp enabled us to add several species to our lists. Having packed up our collections in tolerable condition, notwithstanding all the difficulties of the last few days, we made ready to start a little before mid-day, having arranged for a short day’s journey.

The vegetation of this valley offers so many points of interest that it has seemed better to reserve a fuller account of the flora of this and the Amsmiz valley for the Appendix.