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.
[Illustration:_J. B. delt._
WEST END OF THE MAROCCO ATLAS FROM SEKTANA]
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.
[Illustration:_J. D. H. delt._
DJEBEL TEZAH FROM IMINTELI]
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
[Illustration]
chain were seen rising above the intervening ranges, the most distant
probably belonging to the Glaoui group, east of Tasseremout. Once
more we came to the conclusion, that throughout the portion of
the Great Atlas chain visible from the city of Marocco, between
the easternmost feeders of the Oued Tensift and those of the Oued
Nfys, there are no prominent peaks notably surpassing the average
level. Many of them must surpass the limit of 13,000 feet above the
sea, but it is not likely that any one attains the level of 13,500
feet. The last object that attracted our attention in the panorama,
in a direction about east by north, was an isolated mass, forming
a bold promontory on the northern side of the chain, of which a
rough outline is here given.
When the engrossing interest of the distant view had so far subsided
as to let us pay attention to nearer objects, we were struck by
the unexpected appearance of considerable remains of dwellings on a
platform of level ground, only a few feet below the actual summit of
the mountain. About a dozen rude stone dwellings, all in a ruinous
condition, with chambers sunk a couple of feet below the level of
the ground, and the roofs fallen in, had at some former period been
here erected; but we saw no traces of recent occupation. It seemed
most probable that they were intended as shelter for herdsmen,
who had driven their flocks in summer to this lofty station.
As we lingered on the topmost point of the mountain, the intense
silence of the scene was broken by the distant scream of a large
grey eagle that soared over our heads, and then sailed away southward
over the Sous valley, making the deep stillness still more sensible
than before.
The interval allowed for musing was not long; there was still
much to be done, and we started to our feet to make ready for the
descent. The observations for altitude had still to be recorded,
and the usual difficulty of ascertaining the temperature of the air
was here experienced. With a hot sun falling on an exposed rocky
ridge, it is impossible to isolate the instrument from the effects of
radiation. The result is usually to register too high a temperature;
but the effect of placing the thermometer in a cleft where the rock
is much below the temperature of the air leads to error in the
opposite direction. The temperature here adopted was 60° Fahr.,
and the result of a comparison with Mogador gives a height a few
feet above 11,000 feet, while the comparison with Iminteli falls a
little below that level, the mean adopted being exactly 10,992 feet
(3,350·1 m.)
After bottling a few beetles that were brought to light by turning
over some flat stones, we gave a last glance at the ridge of
Anti-Atlas, and at a quarter-past three turned to the descent. It
was clearly desirable to take a different line from the straight
course followed in the ascent, and we speedily agreed on the plan of
action most likely to add to the botanical results of the ascent,
which hitherto had fallen somewhat short of our expectations. The
round-backed ridge sloping westward from the summit throws out a
massive spur, projecting nearly at right angles or somewhat E. of N.,
so as to enclose a recess in the mountain into which a large part of
the drainage of the northern slope is collected; there was reason,
therefore, to count on finding there a more varied vegetation than
on the bare slopes enclosing it. On the projecting spur above it,
we were struck by the appearance of trees, evidently not coniferous,
scattered at intervals along the slopes, while the greener tint of
the surface gave some promise to the botanist. It was, therefore,
desirable that this ridge should not escape examination. A rapid
descent soon brought us to a point overlooking the hollow recess
of the mountain where we were rejoined by our Shelluh guide, who
had now assumed a crest-fallen air, and we at once determined
to separate, Hooker with the guide descending into the hollow,
Ball making a circuit by the ridge to the left. The time at our
disposal being so short, it was impossible to examine the ground
carefully, and many species were doubtless overlooked, but we
were both rewarded by finding several plants not seen elsewhere
during our journey. Among others Hooker secured a dwarf, very spiny
barberry, with blueish-black berries, seemingly not different from
the Spanish variety of _Berberis cretica_; and lower down, near the
base of the mountain, a fine white-flowered columbine, fully four
feet high, probably a variety of the common _Aquilegia vulgaris_,
widely spread throughout the mountain regions of Europe and Asia,
but not, as we believe, before found in the African continent. Ball,
who reached the rendezvous half an hour after Hooker, brought down
with him a curious little succulent plant, forming a new species
of the genus _Monanthes_, hitherto known only in the islands of the
Canary and Cape de Verde groups, along with three species of the lily
tribe, all of them found in Southern Europe, but not before seen in
Marocco. The tree was found to be the belloot oak (_Quercus Ballota_
of Desfontaines), a variety of the evergreen oak, which is spread
through North Africa and Spain, where the sweet acorns are commonly
roasted and eaten, as chestnuts are elsewhere. Many of the trees
are of great age and have thick trunks, and weather-beaten stunted
branches, and are apparently the remains of extensive forests that
once clothed the flanks of this part of the Atlas up to a height
of about 8,500 feet above the sea.
Hooker found the sheik in a state of thorough exasperation at our
success in defeating his orders, probably aggravated by the tedium
of waiting for our return. He discharged volleys of fierce abuse at
the guide who had failed to keep us within the prescribed limits,
but was not openly disrespectful in his manner towards the Christian
_hakim_ who had come to his country under the immediate shadow of
imperial protection. Foreseeing future trouble in returning through
the valley after dark, he was evidently much annoyed at the necessity
for awaiting Ball’s arrival. To calm his impatience, Hooker lent
him a field telescope, and the novel experience so much amused him
that his ill-humour appeared to vanish for the time. Uncivilised men
are like children, rarely remaining long under the same impression;
and even when seemingly quite possessed by some strong feeling,
are led away from it by the veriest trifle.
As required by the inevitable rule of hospitality, a _mona_ was
offered by the people of the adjoining hamlet in the shape of a dish
of _keskossou_, barely tasted by us, but speedily despatched by our
followers, and at 6.15 P.M. we started on horseback to return to
our night-quarters at Iminteli. The sun set before 7, and a brief
interval of twilight soon gave place to a dark, though star-lit,
night. In the open there was no difficulty in following the track
along the torrent; but at one place, in riding through a walnut
grove, we were reminded of our night-adventure in the Aït Mesan
valley. The thicker branches of the walnut do not, however, lie low,
as do those of the olive, nor are they beset with the stiff jagged
leafless branchlets that made the latter so dangerous in the dark.
The grove was traversed without trouble; but another unlooked-for
experience was in store for us. We had complained in the morning of
what seemed a roundabout way taken in descending from Iminteli to
the bottom of the valley; and perhaps the sheik now took a malicious
pleasure in showing us the advantages of a short cut. Leading the
way, he rode across the torrent, which barely reached the horse’s
knees, and began to ascend the slope above the left bank. Before
long he struck into the bed of a brawling streamlet that came
tumbling over loose boulders down the declivity. As we advanced,
the way became steeper, and shut in on either side by tall bushes
and straggling climbers, all, as it seemed, beset with hooks
and spines. There was nothing for it but to rely on our riding
animals to carry us through as best they could, and wonderfully
they demeaned themselves. Though patches of sky showed overhead,
to our eyes the ground below was absolutely invisible; the boulders
were evidently very large and slippery, and it was only by the most
desperate struggles that the poor beasts succeeded in clambering
up the slope, pausing frequently, with muscles quivering all over
from the violence of their renewed struggles. The only thing for
the riders to do was to hold on at all hazards, and keep their
heads bent low, so as to save their faces from the spiny branches,
that made havoc of their nether garments.
The time seemed very long before we finally emerged on the shelf of
more level ground which lies along this side of the valley, and soon
after reached our quarters at Iminteli, at about half-past eight. As
we knew that we should have time on the following morning, and the
day’s work had been rather fatiguing, we yielded to the claims
of nature, let our collections rest in their boxes and portfolios
for the night, and soon after supper lay down to sleep.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: The final letter is nearly or quite mute, and the name
would by an ordinary Englishman be written Amsmee.]
[Footnote 2: This is apparently the pass spoken of by Leo Africanus
as leading from near Imizmizi (Amsmiz?) to the region of Guzula (the
northern branch of the Sous valley). He says it is called Burris,
that word meaning downy, because snow frequently falls there.—See
_Ramusio_, vol. i. p. 17, B.]