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
[Illustration: HOUSES AT ARROUND.]
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.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: For further particulars as to the mountain flora,
see Appendix E.]
[Footnote 2: Printed in the _Proceedings of the Royal Geographical
Society_, for 1871.]