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CHAPTER X.

Departure from Hasni — Plateau of Sektana — Grand View of the Great Atlas — Departure of Maw — Village of Gurgouri — Intrigues of Kaïd el Hasbi — Passage of the Oued Nfys — Arrival at Amsmiz — Friendly Governor — Difficulties as to further progress — Position of Amsmiz — Sleeping quarters in the Kasbah — Fanatical sheik — Shelluh market — View of the Amsmiz valley — Village of Iminteli — Friendly Jews — Geological structure and vegetation of the valley — Sheik’s opposition overcome — Ascent of Djebel Tezah — The guide left behind — View from the summit — Anti-Atlas seen at last — Deserted dwellings on the peak — Ancient oak forest — Rapid descent — Night ride to Iminteli.

In departing from our camp at Hasni, on May 18, our cavalcade was escorted by the friendly sheik, Si Hassan, and two other native chiefs. Up to the last moment, sick people had continued to arrive from distant villages, and some of the late-comers were left unattended. As we started, the population of the adjoining hamlet, who were gathered round the camp, gave unequivocal tokens of good will and kindly wishes towards the strange visitors, doubtless due to the good effects of Hooker’s medical advice; and more friendly salutations reached us at the villages as we passed. After descending the main valley for a distance of three or four miles, we turned to the left, and began to ascend in a westerly direction towards a depression in the hills that enclosed us on that side. The opuntia and palmetto here grew to a large size; and among many less familiar forms, the oleander was a conspicuous ornament, growing freely up to about 4,500 feet above the sea.

As we gradually wound upwards, and the Aït Mesan valley was finally lost to view, we found that, instead of reaching a pass whence we should descend into an adjoining valley more or less parallel to that which we had left, the country before us was an undulating plateau, extending over a space of many miles, through which no stream runs from the higher mountains towards the plain. This plateau does not subside gradually towards the low country as might have been expected; for at almost every point we found higher ground lying between us and the plain, in the form of rounded eminences, rising some three or four hundred feet above the plateau. The soil was calcareous, and the underlying pale limestone cropped up here and there; but the stratification appeared very irregular. In some places we noticed bosses of intrusive igneous rock of dark colour. Though no villages were in sight, most of the surface was under rude tillage; but the fields were gay with a multitude of wild species in full flower.

After the excitement of the preceding days, the afternoon ride seemed uneventful in a botanical sense, as we failed to find much that was altogether new. The most interesting forms were several fine Orobanches, which might here be studied with profit by a traveller less pressed for time than we were. A great feast of colour was presented to us as we approached Sektana, our camping place, by a magnificent new Linaria, of which we had hitherto seen only stunted and starved specimens. In some fields of corn not yet in ear, the spikes of numerous dark crimson flowers all but concealed the green, and gave to the surface a tone of subdued splendour. The plant has been described by Hooker, in the Botanical Magazine (vol. 98, No. 5983), as Linaria Maroccana. The artist, who had not seen the wild plant, has failed to attain the rich tint of the native flowers. In cultivation, the colour loses its original depth, and in some gardens it has faded to a pale purple or violet tint. From this, and other differences shown in cultivation, it seems possible that this may be an extreme form of Linaria heterophylla of Desfontaines, a plant so different in appearance that, at first sight, no one would suspect very near relationship between them.

Our camp this evening was fixed on open ground, near the village of Sektana. To the north, between us and the plain, a hill rose some 400 or 500 feet, crowned by a castellated building, somewhat similar to that at Tasseremout, of which all that we could learn was that it had been built by Christians or Romans, the same word, as before observed, bearing either interpretation. To the south, the plateau stretched away in rolling downs, unbroken by tree or house, save a few small plants—probably fruit trees—growing near the village, about half-a-mile from our camp. We were received, on our arrival, with some show of cordiality by three native sheiks; and a mona, on a scale sufficient to satisfy even our greedy soldiers, was forthcoming during the evening.

It appeared that Hooker’s fame as a physician had already spread far and wide, to an extent that might, indeed, have been inconvenient if we had remained longer in this district. On this evening, and the following morning, troops of applicants for medical relief continued to arrive at our camp, and amongst them a moullah of reputed sanctity, from Moulaï Ibrahim, troubled with some painful affection of the eyes.

Between the ordinary work at our plants, writing up journals, and completing a letter from Hooker to the late Sir Roderick Murchison, with a brief account of our proceedings up to this point, the evening was fully occupied, and we enjoyed the change of climate that had accompanied the return of fine weather. The thermometer at 8 P.M. did not fall below 58°, and the mean of two closely accordant observations gave for the height of our camp, 4,523 feet (1,378·7 m.) above the sea level.

The morning of May 19 broke brilliantly. Although on the preceding day we had travelled under a blue sky, the higher mountains had been concealed by dense masses of fleecy cumuli, and we were not prepared for the grandeur of the panoramic view that was spread before our eyes, as we sallied from our tents in the early morning. A large portion of the range of the Great Atlas of Marocco stood robed in glittering snow down to a height of about 7,000 feet above the sea level, only the projecting ribs of rock appearing through the white vestment along the higher and steeper ridges. In the annexed sketch is shown the part of the range nearest to our camp, lying between the head of the Aït Mesan valley, and that of the next adjoining (much shorter) valley that opened nearly due south from our station. The view, however, extended in both directions far beyond the nearer part of the range. The high peaks of the Ourika district were sharply cut against the sky, but so crowded together that their relative position was not apparent. Farther east were other high peaks, probably belonging to the district of Glaoui. Turning westward, it was seen that to the right of the high group shown in the sketch, the valley which feeds the main branch of the Oued Nfys runs deep into the main range, which here sinks to the comparatively low level of about 7,500 feet. Towards this valley the high snow-clad mass before us fell with comparatively easy slopes, nowhere difficult of access; and we indulged in the hope that, by fixing our camp pretty high up, we should be able to effect another ascent.

To the west of this great gap the main chain rises again to a considerable height, but less by at least 2,000 feet than that of the central range which we were now about to leave. The western range also differs in being less continuous; the peaks are comparatively isolated, and of massive, conical form; and the intervening passes do not seem to rise above the level of tree vegetation. We observed that, even allowing for its lesser elevation, the western range showed much less snow, whether because during the recent bad weather the precipitation was more considerable on the eastern group, or because in the region nearer to the ocean this had fallen mainly in the form of rain.

After a rather late breakfast, the hour fixed for the departure of our travelling companion having arrived, we with much regret bade adieu to Maw, whose engagements in England hastened his return. He carried with him a considerable collection of living plants which, owing to his skill and experience in managing this difficult process, arrived in excellent condition, and have since thriven in his garden in Shropshire. The soldiers of our escort who accompanied him to Mogador, bore orders to the local authorities which ensured their respect and attention, and, as we afterwards learned, his journey was in every way successful.

Mid-day had passed before we started from Sektana, the morning hours having been employed in collecting and laying in paper a tolerably large mass of specimens. Our course lay over the plateau, whose undulations gradually subsided towards the Oued Nfys. At a distance of some seven miles from our camp we reached the brow of a range of low broken cliffs of white limestone, facing westward towards the broad valley of that stream. They are at a considerable distance from the present bed, but were doubtless formed by erosion at a distant period when the level was much higher than it now is. Among other plants, a variety of the wild caper (described as Capparis ægyptia by Lamarck) was here common, and was afterwards often seen in similar stations as we travelled westward. The flowers-buds are eaten raw by the natives, who call them Pan.

Below us, on the fertile tract extending for three or four miles from the foot of the cliffs towards the Oued Nfys, stood the village of Gurgouri, overlooked by two kasbahs belonging to the Governor of the district which we had now entered, also called Gurgouri. The older fortress-like building, standing on a projecting rock, was apparently uninhabited, and the Kaïd dwelt in a less imposing structure close to the village.

Our present design was to approach the high summits of the Atlas that we had viewed in the morning through one of the lateral valleys of the Oued Nfys, whence, as it appeared, the ascent might be effected without serious difficulty. The leaders of our escort had ridden on before to announce our arrival, and, after a short halt, we approached the village through a belt of gardens and olive groves. No Governor appeared to meet us, but only a messenger with some lame excuse for his non-appearance. It would seem that our dissatisfaction at this want of attention was speedily reported, and that the Kaïd’s second thoughts were different from his first, for he presently appeared just at the entrance to his kasbah. He was a tall, handsome man, courteous, but no way cordial in his greeting. He invited us to stop at this place, offering at the same time a suitable mona. It was necessary, however, to bring the question as to our further progress to a speedy decision; and when the proposal to ascend the neighbouring mountains was met by a positive refusal, and an intimation that such an expedition might be effected from Amsmiz, the adjoining district to the W. of the Oued Nfys, Hooker at once decided to continue our journey, and to refuse the proffered entertainment.

It appeared that our refusal was felt by the Kaïd as a slight; so, by way of offering an irresistible attraction, a cow was led out and slaughtered on the spot, close to the kasbah. Fresh beef is a delicacy rarely found in Marocco; but even this failed to move us. Our greedy soldiers were furious at being baulked of the opportunity for feasting and idling, which they evidently considered the main object of their mission, and our departure from Gurgouri was accompanied by the surly faces and muttered grumblings of our escort.

It was only on the following day that, owing to the continuing feud between the two men, we learned, through our Mogador captain, that Kaïd el Hasbi had here once more been scheming to frustrate the objects of our journey. In announcing our arrival, he at once prejudiced the Governor of Gurgouri against the intrusive Christians, who had come to visit his district, and directly advised him not to let us enter the mountain valleys. It is likely that this conduct was as much prompted by a keen recollection of the discomfort of his recent five days’ stay in the Aït Mesan valley, and the poorer fare there available, as by mere fanatic dislike to Christians and strangers; but we all know how readily fanaticism allies itself with the baser passions of human nature, and neither were wanting in Kaïd el Hasbi. In any case, it was only natural that a local Governor should take his cue from the man who seemed to be the personal representative of the authorities in Marocco.

If our soldiers were disappointed at missing a feast, we were in no better humour at being foiled in what appeared a hopeful project. We silently rode for nearly an hour amidst well-cultivated fields and gardens before we finally reached the banks of the Oued Nfys, at a village called Nurzam. The channel was some 300 yards in width, cut out from the soft limestone strata that rose on either side in steep banks about thirty feet high; while, in spite of the recent rains, the stream was only about twenty yards in width, and everywhere shallow. The day was so far advanced that we could not linger here—a fact the more to be regretted as we found, on the dry gravelly bed of the stream, several plants not before seen during our journey. Among these were Salvia ægyptiaca, and a curious Antirrhinum, nearly allied to, but different from, the Algerian A. ramosissimum.

On the west side of the Oued Nfys, the ground rises gradually, but not nearly to so high a level as the plateau of Sektana. The underlying rock throughout the space between this and the next valley descending from the Atlas appears to be covered with a thick red earthy deposit, sometimes of the consistence of clay, sometimes of a more friable character, doubtless formed at the expense of the portion of the Atlas at the head of the valley of the Oued Nfys.

No indications of glacial action were observed in this region, or in the Amsmiz valley which we were about to visit. On the way to Amsmiz we crossed a ravine fully 200 feet in depth, cut by a streamlet through the clay beds, without reaching the underlying rock. The country was in great part under tillage, and, although we passed no villages, must maintain a considerable population. A few interesting plants were seen; but time was pressing, and we could not afford to halt. The sun set, casting a brilliant red glow over the heaving plain that lingered for a short space longer on the flanks of the mountains which here rise more abruptly than in the district near Marocco. Our course was directed towards the narrow opening of a valley, cleft through the outer range of the Atlas, which we had already descried from a distance; and, after a gradual descent, we arrived, about 8.15 P.M., some time after dark, at Amsmiz.[1]

This is the most considerable place on the northern declivity of the Great Atlas, and, from the number of inhabitants, may deserve to rank as a town. It stands on a shelf of flat rocky ground, somewhat above the level of the adjoining plain, and nearly 200 feet above the stream issuing from the mountains close at hand, which, for want of any other name, we have called the Amsmiz torrent. The Governor of this district was, as we learned, a man of some consequence, being a nephew of El Graoui, and brother-in-law of the Governor of Mogador. We considered it a favourable omen that, as we approached our camping ground close to the town, this functionary, with a motley train of torchbearers, came out to meet us, and, with much show of cordiality, welcomed us to his district. He was almost quite black, and of nearly pure Negro type, with the sensual, but apparently good-humoured expression that is common among that race. It was too late to discuss business on this evening; and the less necessary to do so, as we knew that our large and precious collections made in the Aït Mesan valley, and put up in indifferent condition, would require a full day’s work, before we could undertake a new excursion of any importance. An abundant mona was provided; and general satisfaction appeared to prevail in the camp at having reached this Capua of the Great Atlas.

The 20th of May was a day of rest for the men and animals of our party; but of rather hard work for the two botanists, who were for eight or nine hours busily engaged in putting their collections into order, and transferring the specimens from damp to dry paper. The system of ventilating gratings which we adopted, works admirably in a dry climate, and especially when it is possible to expose the parcels to sunshine; and in such conditions most plants may be dried without a single change of paper. The case is different when, owing to rain, or the dampness of the climate, the paper cannot be well dried, and the plants have to be laid in in a more or less moist condition. Artificial heat may sometimes be applied; but this is rarely available for travellers in such a country as Marocco.

It was necessary to interrupt the work during the forenoon, in order to pay a visit to the Governor. This was no matter of mere ceremony, as it was essential to obtain his consent and assistance towards carrying out the design—on which we had fixed our hearts—of penetrating to the head of the Amsmiz valley, and climbing some one of the higher adjoining peaks. We knew, indeed, that in this part of the range, the Great Atlas does not attain so high a level as it does farther east; but as the summits must reach a height of fully 11,000 feet, they could not fail to exhibit the characteristic vegetation of the higher zone, and at the same time, unless we were again pursued by bad weather, command a wide view over the unknown country, on the south side of the chain.

The Governor was courteous and even friendly in manner, and in general terms expressed his readiness to forward the objects of our journey. He seemed pleased with the articles which Hooker presented to him—a musical box, an opera-glass, and a long sheath-knife; but when a thermometer was added, and an attempt made to explain the use of the instrument, he at once returned it, saying that it would be of no service, and that he would much prefer a brace of pistols. The pistols were promised, and an unsuccessful attempt was actually made to forward them a year later. All had gone smoothly so far; but we were much disappointed when, the practical question of our intended exploration of the Amsmiz valley being brought forward, our friendly Governor expressed himself distinctly opposed to it, the only ground assigned being some doubt as to our safety. As the misbehaviour of Kaïd el Hasbi on the previous day had come to our knowledge during the interval, we at once came to the conclusion that the real obstacle was due to his machinations. On returning to our camp, Hooker summoned El Hasbi, and administered a ‘blowing-up,’ which produced the most salutary results. He was told that we were thoroughly aware of his treacherous conduct, and duly warned that if any further difficulty were thrown in the way of our reaching the high mountains, as we were fully authorised to do, a report should be sent to the Viceroy and to El Graoui, with a request that another officer should be sent to take charge of our escort. This drew forth a multitude of excuses, and profuse promises to do all that was possible to carry out our wishes. The effect was soon apparent; for we learned in the course of the afternoon that the Governor had summoned the sheik of the valley, in order to arrange for our visit, while at the same time we received an invitation to sleep that night in the kasbah, which we thought it judicious to accept.

In the afternoon we went out for a stroll, and were able to form a better idea than we had hitherto done of the character of the scenery. The position of Amsmiz somewhat reminds one of that of villages in Piedmont, that stand at the opening of some of the interior valleys of the Alps, and still more of similar places in the Apennines of Central and Southern Italy. The lofty hills that form the outer extremity of the spurs diverging from the Great Atlas slope rather steeply towards the plain, while the torrent issues from them through a cleft so narrow that no path is carried along it into the valley. Trees, that naturally clothe the outer ranges of the Alps, are here very scarce, and the upper declivity, as commonly in the Apennine, is covered with brushwood and low shrubs; while the lower slopes are partly under tillage, or else planted with olive and fig trees. We descended from the plateau, where our camp stood close to the town of Amsmiz at 3,382 feet (1,030·7 m.) above the sea, by steeply sloping banks to the level of the torrent; and followed this for some distance, collecting plants by the way; and then made a circuit among fields, enclosed by high hedges, in which grew a profusion of climbing plants. The chief prize of our excursion was a curious new species of Marrubium, whose spherical heads of flowers are beset with long stiff bristles hooked at the end, formed by the elongated lower teeth of the calyx.

It was not without misgivings that we quitted our tents in the evening to repair to the Governor’s kasbah. We had hitherto been very successful in escaping the varied noxious insects that prey on the human body, and which the walls of the first house we had seen in Marocco and the concurrent testimony of all who know the country declare to abound throughout the empire; but it now seemed as if we must confront these enemies under circumstances where we could not, without giving offence, resort to energetic measures of precaution. We were, therefore, agreeably surprised, when our host conducted us to a room which, at least to the eye, seemed scrupulously clean. Two beds were arranged, nearly in European fashion, on low bedsteads; of other furniture there was none, excepting a low carpet-covered divan. On the sill of a window we found four or five Arabic books, the only ones which we saw in the possession of a native in this country. Our report the next morning agreed, that we had not been attacked by any enemy more formidable than a few intrusive fleas.

Our slumbers during the night were made more agreeable by the satisfactory information that all the requisite arrangements had been made for our excursion in the Amsmiz valley, on the following day. The sheik, as we were told, would provide a house for our occupation in the highest village; and though nothing definite was said as to the precise limits of our expedition, we relied on luck and good guidance to turn our opportunities to account.

We rose early on the morning of the 21st, and employed some spare time in looking about us. The kasbah was not nearly so large as many that we had seen, but was distinguished by a certain air of neatness, and there were sundry indications that its possessor was superior in general intelligence and appreciation of civilised life to those we had hitherto dealt with in Marocco. In the court there was a small garden, wherein grew some large bushes of a curious variety of the common myrtle, having the young branches and leaves covered with a fine downy pubescence, the leaves were of large size, and much crowded together, giving the plant a peculiar aspect. We did not observe the myrtle in a wild state anywhere in South Marocco; and these plants probably came from some gardens in the city of Marocco.

The sheik of the valley made his appearance in due time, and we at once perceived that he was reluctantly pressed into the service. He presented an example, unusual among the Shelluhs, of genuine religious fanaticism, never relaxing, during the three days which we passed in his company, from an attitude of undisguised aversion to the Christians, whom he was forced to treat with a faint show of outward civility. We afterwards learned that it was by his express order, that his people were prevented from applying for medical advice, and kept aloof from us during our stay in the valley, not even replying to the ordinary courteous salutation. The latter is quite a remarkable incident, and without example in our pretty wide experience of Oriental people.

Our party was as far as possible reduced in number, most of our followers and all the escort, except two soldiers, being left behind. After the usual delay, we were under way soon after 10 P.M. Instead of directing our course towards the cleft by which the torrent issues from the mountains, we left the little town by the side farthest from the stream, and rode across the strip of plain lying between it and the outer range of steep hills. After riding about a mile we came to a place where, according to the usage of the country, the weekly market was being held. A considerable crowd of wild-looking people, most of them apparently mountaineers, formed a busy throng, wherein, under different dress and aspect, human nature showed itself much the same as it does everywhere else. One half of the crowd was intent on business, and hard bargains were driven where the difference between the seller and the buyer may not have exceeded the tenth part of a farthing. The rest were mere idlers, come to while away the time in gossip, or in listening to professional story-tellers, or in beholding the feats of serpent-charmers, who make a precarious living by frequenting these gatherings.

We soon reached the hills, and began to mount by a well-beaten, but rather steep path. The vegetation on the dry stony slopes, mainly covered with brushwood, was already much parched, and we noticed nothing of especial interest till we reached the top of the ridge overlooking the valley of Amsmiz. Here stood two lonely poplars, and an old weather-beaten trunk measuring about five and a half feet in circumference, seemingly of high antiquity. The tree appeared to be in no way different from the Juniperus Oxycedrus of Southern Europe, except that this rarely exceeds the dimensions of a bush five or six feet high.

We now began to obtain a clearer view of the portion of the Atlas chain which it was our present object to explore. The valley before us was evidently different in character from those which we had hitherto seen. Especially throughout its lower part, it is a mere trench, whose sides slope with increasing steepness towards the bed of the stream; while the flanks, throughout a zone of from one to two thousand feet above the water, are but slightly inclined, and afford space for numerous villages and for cultivation. It is much shorter than the valleys in the Ourika and Reraya districts; and, instead of being enclosed at its head by a continuous ridge of great height, we here saw a single lofty snow-streaked peak at the head of the valley, apparently separated from the next eminences on either side by comparatively low passes, over which an easy passage to the Sous valley must be found. The peak which was the obvious aim of our expedition is known to the Moors as Djebel Tezah, or Tezi, and its summit, which had already attracted our notice from Sektana, can scarcely be more than fifteen or sixteen miles, as the bird flies, from the point where the torrent enters the plain near Amsmiz; whereas, in the part of the chain first visited by us, the watershed must be everywhere more than twenty miles from the northern foot of the mountains.

Our track descended slightly from the top of the ridge above Amsmiz, and then continued nearly at a level for a considerable distance, the torrent, which ran at a great depth below us on the right, being usually concealed from view by the convexity of the slope. We soon observed that several villages lying on the upper slopes were mere piles of ruin. Some, as we learned, had been destroyed by hostile tribes, and others had been abandoned by their inhabitants who had migrated elsewhere. Perhaps owing to the scantiness of the present population, timber was more abundant here than usual in the Great Atlas. Besides larger trees at intervals, the slopes along which we rode were to a great extent covered with oak scrub to such an extent as to leave little space for herbaceous plants. The prevailing form of oak in this part of the valley tends to confirm the opinion of those botanists who, with Visiani, consider the common evergreen oak (Quercus Ilex), and the cork oak (Quercus suber), to be forms of the same plant. In general appearance, the oak here quite resembled Q. suber, and in the older trees the tendency to form a corky outer bark was apparent; but the anthers all showed traces of the sharp points which are supposed to distinguish those of the common species.

At a point where a slender rivulet from the dry flanks of the hills on our left enters the valley, we passed close to a small village, with a belt of cultivation surrounding it, and soon after began to descend steeply to the bed of the torrent, no longer so distant from us as it had been in the lower part of the valley. Here we found several fine plants not before seen, and then, somewhat to our surprise, began to ascend, by a narrow and difficult path, the steep rocky slope above the left bank of the torrent. Our object was to pass the night at the uppermost end of the valley, as near as possible to the foot of Djebel Tezah, and the sheik had undertaken to conduct us to the highest village. We were now informed that this stands on the west side, and some 600 or 700 feet above the level of the torrent. This was evidently inconvenient, as our route on the following day must clearly keep to the eastern bank; but there seemed to be no help for it, and, as the rocks on this side were different in appearance, we perceived a fair prospect of adding some novelties to our collections.

About 2 P.M. we reached Iminteli, the poor village which served as our head-quarters for the next two days. The weather being now settled, our observations for altitude above the sea give nearly the same results when compared with Mogador or with Amsmiz, and that adopted was 4,418 feet (1,346·5 m.). The house of a Jew had been cleared out for our reception. It was of rather more solid construction than that in which we lodged at Arround, in the Aït Mesan valley, but similar in plan. It appeared to be tolerably clean, though on closer scrutiny a few bugs were detected, but in far less numbers than we have seen in Sicily and some other places in Europe. In pursuance of the sheik’s order, the Shelluh inhabitants of this place kept carefully aloof from all communication with us; but there were several Jew families who were clearly well disposed towards the Christian strangers. When we sallied forth, soon after our arrival, to examine the vegetation of the rocky slopes above the village, one of these Jews volunteered to accompany us. Conversation either in Hebrew or Shelluh being unfortunately out of the question, our intercourse was necessarily of the most limited character; but we could not fail to be struck with the man’s air of intelligence and friendliness.

The character of the rocks throughout this valley is altogether different from that of the more lofty range which we had previously visited. The red sandstones, there so prevalent, are here absent, and the strata are, without exception, schistose, though seemingly varying much in mineral composition. In some places, and especially on the ridge above Amsmiz, mica is present to an appreciable extent; in others, and notably in the mass of Djebel Tezah, the rock would pass under the old designation of clayslate; while in this part of the valley calcareous schists prevail. Intrusive dykes and bosses of porphyry and other igneous rocks were seen in many places, but not to such an extent as to affect much the general aspect of the surface. The stratification appeared to be very irregular, but in general the beds are inclined at a high angle to the horizon.

We were led by the difference in geological structure to anticipate a considerable change in the flora, as compared with that with which we had already made acquaintance; and this expectation was confirmed by what we had seen during our morning’s ride, and still more by our afternoon herborisation on the rocks and slopes above Iminteli.

We had already perceived that the vegetation of this part of the Atlas is much less varied than that of Aït Mesan; and this impression became stronger with subsequent experience. Something may be due to the fact that we had there more time and opportunity for close examination; but this could only slightly alter the general result. This may be partly due to the more permeable character of the rocks in the Amsmiz valley preventing moisture from resting on the surface; and in part to the fact that, although nearer to the Atlantic, the range here is less lofty, and the precipitation of vapour, in the shape of rain or snow, is less frequent and abundant during the summer months. The subject is more fully discussed in Appendix E; but it will be seen by reference to our lists, that only seventy-six species seen by us were confined to the Amsmiz valley, that nearly twice as many were found common to both valleys, while more than three times that number were seen in Aït Mesan, but not in Amsmiz. If a similar comparison be made as to the endemic species which, as far as we know, are peculiar to the flora of the Great Atlas, the proportions are nearly identical. A further peculiarity of the vegetation here, is the greater resemblance which it bears to that of the mountains of Southern Spain than does that of the Aït Mesan valley. Several plants not before seen by us were identical with Spanish species; and of the undescribed forms here collected, at least four have their nearest allies among the endemic plants of the Peninsula. Two or three characteristic species of the Algerian flora were also seen here for the first time; but these will doubtless be found to extend through the intervening region when this has become accessible to scientific travellers.

At two or three spots, during the afternoon, we had noticed fragments of pine cones, which the more excited our curiosity, as up to this we had not seen a true conifer in Marocco, and there was no reason to expect the appearance in this region of any other species than the Atlantic Cedar. When asked on the subject, the sheik declared that they had been dropped by strangers who had come from a great distance. The only explanation for a lie, apparently so objectless, is to be found in the deep-rooted suspicion which the mountain tribes feel as to all strangers, but which in the case of the sheik was intensified by religious bigotry. It was satisfactory to find a few trees about the highest point which we reached—700 or 800 feet above the village—and to ascertain that the cones belonged to the Pinus halepensis. It is remarkable that, when questioned, our Jew guide gave for the tree the name Tæda. There is much doubt as to the species which Pliny knew by the name Pinus Tæda, but it is pretty clear that the Romans applied the name tæda to various species of pine used for torches; and to this day, in the Italian Tyrol, where brands of Pinus Mughus are commonly adopted for that purpose, they go by the name of tea. The preservation of the exact Latin term in this remote region, along with that of the furbiune, already mentioned, appears worthy of note.

Well content with our collections, we returned before sunset, but our good-humour was soon troubled by the recalcitrant sheik, who seemed resolved to frustrate the main object of our expedition. When our interpreter was charged to arrange with him for our departure early next morning, he returned an answer to the effect that we could go with safety no farther than the village of Iminteli; that the great mountain was frequented by the Sous people, and could not safely be approached by us; and this was wound up by a flat refusal to let us proceed any farther. When it was found that he stuck doggedly to this resolution, Hooker judiciously resolved to assume a more resolute tone. ‘Tell him,’ he said to Abraham, ‘that the Sultan has issued his order that we should go to the snow—El Graoui has ordered that we shall go the snow—the Kaïd of Amsmiz has ordered that we shall go to the snow—if he refuses to carry out their orders, we shall return to Amsmiz, and send a courier to the Viceroy and to El Graoui, and we shall see what will be the consequence.’ After some delay, the answer came, that if we went to the mountain, it would be necessary to take an escort of fifty armed men. ‘Tell him,’ was the reply, ‘that he may take as many men as he likes—five men, or fifty men, or none at all—we do not care as to that; but the Sultan’s command must be executed!’ The sheik sullenly gave way, and promised that all should be ready for the next morning. After achieving this victory, we proceeded to dust the floor profusely with insect powder, and to spread our mattresses: our insect enemies either held aloof, or performed their operations so deftly that we were unconscious of their assaults, and slept till the first gleam of dawn showed in the eastern sky.

When we sallied forth at 5 A.M., on the morning of May 22, the air was cool, but a light mist hung between us and the mountains, the usual precursor of a hot day. When our preparations for starting were complete, the sheik was not to be seen; but presently a message came to say that he had gone on ahead, and would await our arrival on the banks of the torrent below the village. It seemed as if it involved an unnecessary détour to return by the path which we had ascended the day before, instead of aiming at a point higher up the valley; but a native who was left to act as guide, insisted on keeping to the steep rocky path with which we were already acquainted. At the appointed place, by the bank of the torrent, we found the sheik, with four or five ragged fellows, of whom but two were armed with long guns. Anticipating any remark as to this sorry substitute for the promised escort of fifty armed men, the sheik announced that more men would join the party farther on. As we firmly disbelieved the stories of danger from the terrible men of Sous, who are the bugbears of the population on the northern side of the mountains, we never cared to call attention to the fact that the promised reinforcements did not make their appearance.

In the upper part of the valley, the trench which the torrent has cut for itself is less deeply excavated than through its lower course, and leaves space for a path, and a few straggling olive and walnut trees; and in some spots for small patches of cultivation. For about six miles we kept to the torrent bank, our horses sometimes preferring its stony bed, till we reached the junction of the two streams that feed the Amsmiz torrent. Between them rises the peak of Djebel Tezah, and here the ascent of the mountain begins. As the slope was still very gentle, we rode on a short distance farther, after hurriedly collecting some interesting plants, but soon came to a halt at a clump of fine walnut trees, standing by our observations at 5,604 feet (1,708 m.) above the sea. We had seen no village by the way, but only a few men engaged in fashioning gunstocks from walnut wood. It appeared, nevertheless, that there was a small village near at hand, and this place would be the proper starting point for travellers intending to make the ascent. There would be no difficulty in conveying small tents hither from Amsmiz.

Much to our satisfaction, the sheik now withdrew, committing us to the charge of an active, but unarmed young Shelluh, with strict injunctions to lead as far as the snow, but not to allow us to proceed farther. It is hard to say whether the sheik and his people felt any real uneasiness as to the possibility of a casual encounter with natives of the Sous valley; but it was pretty clear that they had succeeded in frightening our attendants, as our Mogador men, usually so active and attentive, soon dropped behind, and were not again seen till our return in the afternoon. We took the most direct course in the ascent, following a slight gully down which flowed a mere trickling rivulet, fed by the snows on the upper slope of the mountain, and pushed on rather fast with a view to get as high on the mountain as possible before the sun reached the meridian.

Bearing in mind the great diversity in the vegetable population which is seen in Southern Spain (the high mountain region nearest to the Great Atlas), where neighbouring peaks of different mineral structure exhibit numerous quite distinct species, and very few identical features, and having found the flora of the lower valley to a great extent different from that of Aït Mesan, we confidently reckoned on obtaining still greater evidence of distinctness in that of the upper region. It was therefore with some surprise that, as we continued the ascent, we met, one after another, many of the peculiar species that we had first seen in the ascent from Arround to the Tagherot Pass, and comparatively few not already familiar to us. For once, however, it must be owned that during part of this day, our emotions as botanists yielded to the interest that we felt in the near prospect of a peep into terra incognita.

If but little had been hitherto known of the northern slopes of the Great Atlas from the reports of the few travellers who had viewed the range from the low country, or attained its outer slopes, the southern side of the main chain remained a sealed book to geographers, whose reliance on the vague reports of native informants has led them, like the chartographers of the middle ages, to fill up the blank space on their maps by representations utterly discordant and contradictory. Ever since we had been in South Marocco, we had heard of the Sous valley, as the proper home of everything strange and marvellous to be found in the empire. It is there, our informants assured us, that lions and other savage beasts roam at leisure, there pythons twenty or even thirty feet long lie in wait for the traveller, mines of the precious metals abound in Sous, and in Sous the soil is so fertile that all the products of nature are obtained without labour. But of the physical features of the country we could learn nothing. Whether it were enclosed on the southern side by a second lofty range, or Anti-Atlas, parallel to that we already knew, or merely by secondary branches diverging from the main chain, and from how far eastward the sources of the Sous might flow, were all matters quite unknown to us. One European, indeed, had traversed some part of the valley, and should have been able to throw some little light on these obscure points; but unfortunately the few lines in which Gerhard Rohlfs recounts his adventurous journey to Tarudant, and thence eastward to the northern skirts of the Sahara, give scarcely any information. He speaks of high mountains lying south of the Sous valley, but says nothing to show what relation these bear to the main chain. It appears from his account, that no considerable ascent is necessary in order to pass from the southern branch of the Sous to the streams that flow southward towards the Great Desert; but whether the Great Atlas and the Anti-Atlas are throughout their length separated by a broad trough, in the same way as Lebanon and Anti-Lebanon, or Anti-Atlas be a diverging range over which Rohlfs made his way by a deep pass or depression, it is impossible to infer from his narrative.

By the time we reached the lower skirts of a long snow slope that stretched upwards towards the summit of the mountain, the sun, which had now ascended nearly to the zenith, beat down upon us with intense rays, that drove two of the party to seek some temporary shelter. The Shelluh guide probably considered that he had done his day’s work; and, finding a narrow rim of shadow under an overhanging rock, lay down, with his head screened from the blazing heat. Ball, who was suffering from a violent head-ache, also found a spot that gave partial shade. Hooker took advantage of the halt to push on at a steady pace that soon carried him beyond the reach of interference from the guide. When Ball felt able to resume the ascent, the guide sprung to his feet, and for the first time became aware that one of the party was already too far ahead to be easily overtaken. He proceeded by a series of unearthly yells and frantic gesticulations, to attempt to attract Hooker’s attention, and urge his return. When these demonstrations were found to be useless, and he perceived that Ball was also about to follow in the ascent, he commenced a fresh series of exclamations and pantomimic gestures, of which the burden seemed to be that if we went to the top, we were certain to be shot; but the same argument that was used with effect on the Tagherot Pass—the gift of a silver coin—was so far successful that no attempt was made to arrest Ball’s progress, and, after ascending a few hundred feet higher, the unwilling guide gave up the attempt, and rested comfortably until he had an opportunity of rejoining Hooker in his descent.

It was perhaps fortunate for our object of reaching the summit of the mountain as early as possible, that the slope by which we ascended is extremely dry and barren. A few species, already seen on the Tagherot Pass, were gathered near the snow, but the upper ridges showed only a few perennial species in flower, of which the most conspicuous was a variety of Alyssum montanum. Most of the others were stunted bushes, one of them being a dwarf form of the common gooseberry, with stems about a foot long, lying flat on the surface of the rocky soil. Throughout the ascent the rock was of schistose structure, seemingly argillaceous, but in some places containing a notable proportion of lime, and here and there showing traces of mica. Intrusive dykes and bosses of reddish porphyry appear in places, but do not play a conspicuous part in the aspect of the mountain.

Hooker reached the summit about 2 P.M., and was rejoined by Ball nearly half an hour later. Excepting some light fleecy cumuli floating over the low country to the north, at a lower level than the eye, the sky was cloudless; but in some directions a thin haze obscured the details of the vast panorama. Our first glance was inevitably directed towards the unknown region to the south, and there, at a distance of fifty or sixty miles, rose the range of Anti-Atlas, showing a wavy outline, with rounded summits, and no apparent deep depression, rising, as we estimated, to a height of from 9,000 to 10,000 feet above the sea. The highest portion within our range of view, and the only part with a somewhat rugged outline, bore a few degrees west of due south, and corresponded in position with the Djebel Aoulouse of the French map. A somewhat darker shade traceable at some places on the flanks of this dimly seen range, possibly indicated the existence of forests, or at least of shrubs covering the slopes.

When the first impulse of curiosity was partially satisfied, we began to take more careful note of our position, and to study in detail a view which had been so long denied to us. The first fact that struck us, was that the peak on which we stood lies a considerable way north of the watershed. The axis of the main chain, which here subsides into undulating masses from 2,000 to 3,000 feet lower than Djebel Tezah, lay between us and the central portion of the Sous valley, and, even if the prevailing haze over the lower districts had not veiled the details, would probably have cut off the course of the stream and the rich tracts that are said to fringe its banks. The higher strata of the atmosphere, above the level of about 7,000 feet, were, however, delightfully clear towards the east and west, and every feature of whatever portion of the main chain lay within our range was easily traced even at distances of thirty or forty miles. An extraordinary change had occurred during the three days since we had viewed the chain from Sektana, covered in deep snow down to the level of about 7,000 feet, and showing only a few crests of precipitous rock here and there protruding. The white mantle had now completely disappeared, and only long streaks of snow filling the depressions of the surface now seamed the flanks of the higher mountains, leaving the summit ridges everywhere bare. During the ascent of the northern face of the mountain, we had kept close to one of these long and comparatively narrow snowslopes that extended through a vertical zone of over 2,000 feet, with a breadth of some 300 to 400 feet, and we now saw a still longer and wider strip of the same character, filling a shallow trough below us, on the east face of the peak. Near to the summit, and on the ridges leading to it, not a trace of snow was to be seen, even in the crevices of the rocks, where it would find partial shelter from the sun.

We now proceeded to survey the field of view, in order, if possible, to fix the positions of any conspicuous summits. Looking due west, nothing approaching our level lay between us and the dim horizon. A succession of projecting spurs of the Atlas, dividing as many successive valleys, subsided into the plain; the most prominent, and that extending farthest from the main chain, being the mountain above Seksaoua. Turning the eye a little to the left, about west by south, we saw crowded together many of the higher summits of the western portion of the main range, which was here seen foreshortened, so that it was impossible to judge of their true relative position. The highest of these, seamed with snow, we judged to be about twenty-five miles distant, and higher than Djebel Tezah by 600 or 800 feet. In nearly the same direction, but only about ten miles distant, was a rugged projecting peak, rising some 300 feet above our level, and very many more of somewhat lower elevation were discernible in the space between us and the more distant points. Between SW. and SSE., the range of Anti-Atlas, rising behind the broad Sous valley, bounded the horizon.

At our feet, and cutting off from view the course of the river Sous, the mountain mass that here forms the axis of the main chain presented the appearance of a troubled sea of a light ferruginous colour, declining gradually in elevation from W. to E. At a distance of about eight miles ESE. of Djebel Tezah it sinks to an estimated height of little over 7,000 feet, at the head of the main branch of the Oued Nfys, and offers the only apparently easy pass over the main chain which we had yet seen.[2] The rocky sunburnt flanks of the mountains were dotted with trees of dark foliage, doubtless some form of the evergreen oak, up to a height of about 8,000 feet above the sea, for the most part solitary, sometimes in clumps, but nowhere forming a continuous forest. The numerous feeders of the Oued Nfys had cut deep ravines in the flanks of the mountains, and were lost to sight, except where gleams of silver light shot upwards from the deeper valleys amid the walnut trees that fringed their banks. Numerous hamlets were seen, some perched upon projecting ridges, some lying in hollows and girdled with a belt of emerald-green crops.

It was impossible not to speculate on the condition of these primitive mountaineers, who have since the dawn of history preserved their independence. Leo Africanus, speaking of the very district now overlooked by us, which he calls Guzula, says that the people were in his day molested by the predatory Arabs and by ‘the lord of Marocco;’ but they successfully resisted all encroachments, and no attempt is now made to assert the Sultan’s authority among them, or to enforce tribute. Something they have doubtless gained in material, and still more in moral, welfare by stubborn resistance to alien rule; but the prosperity that is sometimes attained by tribes subject to the semi-feudal rule of chiefs, and among whom intestine feuds are rooted in immemorial tradition, is usually short-lived.

Our hope of getting further knowledge as to the eastern extremity of the Sous valley, and the orographic relations between the Atlas and Anti-Atlas ranges was not to be satisfied. Djebel Tezah, as we found, stands some way north of the axis of the chain, while the great mass that rose over against us between ENE. and ESE., extending to the head of the Aït Mesan valley, sends out massive buttresses to the south, and by these our view of Anti-Atlas was cut off to the SE. On one of these western projecting buttresses, we could distinguish a large village belonging to the district of Tifinout, and standing at an elevation of nearly 7,000 feet. Turning our eyes to the north of true east, many of the higher summits of the