Return to Amsmiz — Arround villagers in trouble — Pains and
pleasures of a botanist — Ride across the plain — Mzouda
— Experiences of a Governor in Marocco — Hospitable chief of
Keira — A village in excitement — Arrival at Seksaoua — Fresh
difficulties as to our route — A faithful black soldier — Rock
vegetation at Seksaoua — Ascent of a neighbouring mountain —
View of the Great Atlas — Absence of perpetual snow — Return
of our envoy from Mtouga — Pass leading to Tarudant — Native
names for the mountains — Milhaïn — Botanising in the rocks.
The morning hours of May 23 were devoted to the necessary work at
our collections of the preceding day; but before our departure we
once more took a short ramble through the ground surrounding the
village. With a single exception, all the plants seen were species
common to the Spanish peninsula, two or three being characteristic of
Central Spain. Apart from the style of building and the dress of the
inhabitants, a stranger transported to the spot might easily suppose
himself somewhere in Southern Europe, though closer examination
would suggest differences to the naturalist. At noon we started
on the way to Amsmiz, halting at the torrent in the bottom of the
valley to secure specimens of two very fine and undescribed plants,
both very troublesome to the collectors. One was a spiny _Genista_,
with very numerous, stiff, intricate branches; the other a fine
thistle, five or six feet high, whose long woolly leaves were beset
with sharp, slender, golden spines, fully an inch in length.
Without much further delay, we retraced the track that we had
followed on the morning of the 21st. We were once more struck by the
remarkable coolness of the climate of this region as compared with
somewhat similar positions in higher latitudes on the north and east
sides of the Mediterranean. Although the sun at noon now approached
within less than 15 degrees of the zenith, the temperature in the
shade was pleasantly cool, scarcely rising above 70° F. At the
same season, and at a greater height, on the Lebanon we have seen
the thermometer stand above 80° in the shade by day, and scarcely
fall to 70° at night. This is mainly due to the cool winds that
prevail along the coast, and extend some way inland, though not
much felt in summer in the city of Marocco. As we rode along the
eastern flank of the valley, and down the slopes above Amsmiz, we
were pleasantly fanned by a NW. breeze that often lasts throughout
the day, but subsides at night.
On the brow of the declivity overlooking Amsmiz, we met a messenger
from Arround, our stopping-place at the head of the Aït Mesan
valley, come to implore our protection for the unfortunate
inhabitants, whose appeal to us had only brought them into fresh
trouble. The story had of course been reported to the Vice-Governor
(El Graoui’s deputy) with the circumstance of the sacrifice of the
sheep. He had resented this attempt to escape from his authority,
had had some of the suppliants severely beaten, and sent two more
men of the village to prison. It seemed very doubtful whether any
interference on our part might not merely aggravate the condition
of these unfortunate people. We promised, however, to do what we
could for them; and before we left Mogador it was reported, whether
truly or falsely, that we had been successful in our intercession.
On returning to our camp at Amsmiz we found work in abundance
ready to hand. Our precious collections from the Aït Mesan
valley, including, as they did, the most interesting results of
our expedition, had been lying for three days untouched; and it was
necessary to go through them all again, putting into separate parcels
those that were dry and those still requiring pressure between dry
paper. With the exception of half an hour given to another interview
with the friendly Kaïd of Amsmiz, we were thus occupied until long
after midnight. Although our store of drying-paper was large, the
demand often exceeded the supply, and many a friendly contest arose
as to respective rights of property in parcels of soiled paper, here
priceless, which elsewhere would have seemed of no value. Those who
have had experience in this line know that the labour of a botanical
collector is not light, and in truth it would be almost intolerable
if it were not for its compensating pleasures. It often happened
that the solitary candle was in use throughout the entire night,
Ball working till two o’clock or later, when Hooker would rise,
more or less refreshed, and keep up work till daylight.
But in the pursuits of a naturalist there are abundant sources
of satisfaction not suspected by the uninitiated. These are not
merely derived from the objects themselves, suggesting as they
often do interesting trains of thought and speculation; there are
further springs of keen enjoyment in the countless impressions with
which they are linked by the subtle influence of association. Much
of the pleasure that an artist, however unskilled, derives from
travel, arises from the power of each sketch to bring back again
to the mind the original scene of which it is but the imperfect
transcript. If he be active and industrious, he may preserve a
dozen such keys to the impressions of each day’s journey. But
to the botanist almost every specimen is indissolubly linked in
the memory with the spot where it was collected; and as he goes
through the produce of his day’s work, every minute detail is
vividly presented to the mind, along with the wider background
that lay behind the original picture. The wonder and awe that
dwell around the mountain fastnesses, the consolation of the
forest glade, the indefinable grandeur of the desert plain, nay,
even the bleak solitariness of northern moorland and morass—these
dominant impressions suggested by the aspects of nature are varied
and enriched for the naturalist by the myriad phases of beauty
that are disclosed to the eye of the observer. The glory of colour
in the gentian and saxifrage and golden _Alyssum_, and the other
bright creatures that haunt the mountain tops; the tender grace
of the delicate ferns that dwell in the rocky clefts; the teeming
life of the warm woodland; the strange beauty of the unaccustomed
forms that spring up in the desert solitudes; the purple glow of the
heath relieving the sombreness of the leaden sky, and the delicate
structures of the _Drosera_ and _Menyanthes_, and bog-asphodel,
and many another inhabitant of our northern bogs—these and
countless other images are instantaneously revived by contact with
the specimen that grew beside them. Strangest of all is, perhaps,
the enduring nature of this connection. Often does it happen, as
many a botanist can testify, that after a lapse of a quarter, nay,
even half, a century, the sight of a specimen will bring back the
picture, seemingly effaced long ago, of its original home.
We were on foot again at 5.30 A.M., May 24, and the order for
departure went forth. But, as usual, there were unexpected causes
for delay. Many sick came to invoke Hooker’s medical skill,
some trifling presents were to be distributed, and finally
word was brought that the Kaïd meant to accompany us for some
distance on our day’s journey, and it was necessary to await his
appearance. Among the articles provided for presents we had included
scissors and needles; but such things, especially the needles, were
everywhere disregarded by the natives, whether Moor or Shelluh;
and it appeared that the art of sewing, as well as every other
occupation requiring the slightest manual dexterity, is—at least
in country places—exclusively practised by the Jews; to them,
accordingly, such gifts were very welcome. In the larger towns
there are, of course, many handicrafts, and notably the making of
slippers and boots, practised by the Moors; but such trades are for
the most part hereditary in certain families, and the ordinary Moor
affects to despise all occupations of the kind.
At half-past eight the Kaïd appeared, mounted on a strong
serviceable horse; and, everything being ready, we rode down
the steep bank above which stands the town of Amsmiz, and, after
following the torrent for a short distance, reascended to about
the same level above the left bank. We now found ourselves on the
verge of a wide open plain, sloping gently from south to north,
and our course to Mzouda—the next stage in our journey—lay a
little north of due west, while the outer range of the mountains
trended away to S.W. We had been led to suppose that Mzouda lay,
like Amsmiz, at the foot of the Great Atlas, and might therefore
serve as starting-point for another excursion into its recesses;
but it was now clear that it must stand far out in the plain,
many miles from the nearest range of hills. We were somewhat
comforted, however, by the positive assurance that Seksaoua, the
next stopping-place beyond Mzouda, stands close to the mountains at
the opening of a considerable valley, and was therefore a promising
spot for our purposes.
The difficulty of getting correct information in such a country as
this, as daily experience proved to us, is one of the most serious
difficulties of the traveller, and depends quite as much on the
incapacity of the natives as on the habitual suspicion with which
all strangers are regarded. One day when Kaïd el Hasbi appeared
to be in unusual good-humour we were endeavouring to obtain from
him information as to some place on our route, and the interpreter
being told to ask if he could make the matter clearer by reference
to the cardinal points, he answered in a tone of contempt, ‘Does
he take me for the captain of a steamer?’
After riding with us for two or three miles the Kaïd of Amsmiz
bade us a friendly farewell; and we continued in our course across
the plain, with occasional halts, in order more closely to examine
the vegetation, which was here less varied and interesting than
usual. Most of the surface was under grain crops—chiefly wheat
and barley—now ripe, and in great part cut and carried away. In
the drier waste tracts we once more came upon the characteristic
vegetation of the plains, _Acacia_, _Zizyphus Lotus_, _Rhus
pentaphylla_, and _Withania frutescens_ being the prevailing
shrubs. Of herbaceous plants _Elæoselinum meoides_, and other
large _Umbelliferæ_, with _Compositæ_ of the thistle tribe,
were most conspicuous.
In Beaudouin’s map the chief branch of the Oued Nfys is shown as
flowing parallel to the Atlas range from the south-west of Amsmiz,
and receiving as tributaries the Amsmiz torrent and the broad stream
that we had crossed near Gurgouri. On this day we satisfied ourselves
that this representation is erroneous. The unanimous statements of
the natives, confirmed by our own observations, proved that all the
waters flowing northward from the mountains between Amsmiz and the
borders of Mtouga are united in the stream that we had traversed
at Sheshaoua on its way to the main river Tensift. The practice of
intercepting the streams from the Atlas, and carrying them across
the plain through irrigation channels below the surface, makes it
extremely difficult to unravel the hydrography of this region.
About noon we reached the boundary that separates the districts
of Amsmiz and Mzouda, and agreed to the suggestion of a mid-day
halt under trees near a large village, of which, as we learned,
many of the inhabitants are Jews. From early morning the clouds
had been gathering along the mountain range, and by this time had
quite covered the sky. The temperature was unusually low, not rising
above 62° F. in the shade, and our hard work during most of the
preceding night supplies the only excuse for the fact that, after
a light luncheon, we both fell fast asleep, until aroused by the
information that it was two o’clock, and high time to continue our
journey. The flora being somewhat monotonous, we did not, perhaps,
lose much by this unusual neglect of duty; but we remembered with
regret that we had not ascertained to what species the tamarisk
tree belonged under which we had taken our rest.
The boundary between Amsmiz and Mzouda is here formed by a torrent
bed, now nearly dry, called by our escort Asif el Mel. This stream,
as was agreed on all hands, joins those farther west that run by
Sheshaoua to the Oued Tensift. As we rode onward across the plain
several heavy showers passed over, which thoroughly drenched the
scantily clothed men of our party, without at all quenching their
habitual good-humour, but the soldiers were well provided with
woollen coverings that kept them tolerably dry. There was little
attempt at collecting-plants during the afternoon, as it requires
a strong inducement to make a horseman whose outer clothing is
thoroughly wet set foot to the ground. We found the village of
Mzouda rather different in appearance from those we had hitherto
seen. The houses—small cubical blocks built of clay dried in the
sun—were less solid than the rough stone dwellings of the Atlas
mountaineers, but much superior to the miserable huts of the Arab
tribes in the plain of Marocco; and instead of the unsightly piles
of thorny branches commonly used by the latter, these were enclosed
within massive hedges of _Opuntia_ whose dimensions showed that
they were of considerable age.
As usual Kaïd el Hasbi had ridden forward with one of the soldiers
to present the letter to the Governor, and to announce our arrival;
and when, about 6 P.M., we reached the _kasbah_, quite a mile
from the village, we received a message inviting us to take up our
quarters within the building. As the ground outside was already wet,
and the evening sky threatened more rain, we at once accepted the
offer, and were conducted to two small but clean-looking rooms in a
square tower that formed one of the angles of the building. Between
the care of the small collections made during the day, and writing up
our notes, and a frugal supper, the time was fully occupied until 10
P.M., when by previous arrangement we paid our visit to the Governor.
We found a spare-looking man of serious mien, quite devoid of the
coarse, overfed, sensual aspect common among the men in authority
in Marocco. The usual conversation as to the objects of our journey,
led to an assurance that the district under his jurisdiction did not
extend to the higher peaks of the Atlas, or, as it was expressed,
‘did not go to the snow.’ This may not improbably have been quite
true, but our experience of El Hasbi’s machinations made us now
very incredulous as to such statements. It was, however, obvious that
Mzouda was not a convenient centre for mountain excursions, and we
made no objection to the proposal that we should on the following day
proceed to Seksaoua, which stands close to the foot of the mountains.
When we came to know more of his history, we found no cause to
wonder at the grave and depressed demeanour of our host. He had
succeeded to the government of his native district in early life,
and had held it for many years when he was invited by the Sultan
to Fez. On his arrival he was thrown into a dungeon where he had
remained ten years, frequently subjected to torture, until so much of
the wealth he was supposed to have amassed during his administration
had been disgorged as satisfied the demands of the sovereign or some
ruling favourite; and then, being released, he was sent back again
to govern his district with the agreeable prospect of renewing the
same experience after some uncertain interval. If actual fact in
this country did not supply frequent proof, it would seem scarcely
credible that the attractions of power and comparative wealth should
induce men to face such a terrible, yet almost inevitable, future.
The sky had cleared during the night, but the morning of May 25 was
unpromising. At 8 A.M., shortly before we started, the thermometer
marked only 65° F., although our observations showed that in our
yesterday’s ride of rather more than 20 miles we had descended
fully 1,000 feet, the height of the _kasbah_ above the sea being
calculated at 2,367 feet. The night had not been altogether pleasant,
for, in spite of insect powder, the bugs had made a vigorous and
successful attack, and we should have preferred to start at an
earlier hour. But as usual Kaïd el Hasbi stood in the way. He was
quite determined not to let the unbelieving strangers put him to
the slightest inconvenience that could be avoided.
Before we started the Governor sent Hooker a present of 20 dollars,
which was of course immediately returned. The poor man doubtless
thought it well to lose no chance of propitiating any influence
that could possibly be of avail in the hour of future need. With
the same object, he took the opportunity of sending through Abraham
a dog to Mr. Carstensen at Mogador, and doubtless made presents to
the officers of our escort.
After leaving the _kasbah_ we rode through a narrow belt of tilled
land, and soon reached the verge of a tract of open country remaining
in a state of nature, with but few and scattered traces of population
or cultivation. In some parts the soil was stony, and the presence of
_Arthrocnemum_ and other Salsolaceous bushes indicated the presence
of soluble salts, but in others the absence of cultivation was
probably due only to the want of irrigation. There can be little
doubt that by a more skilful distribution of the drainage from
the northern slopes of the Great Atlas, the area of land producing
human food might be largely increased.
Our course lay between WSW. and SW., and we observed as we advanced
that in that direction the outer ranges of hills did not rise so
nearly parallel to the axis of the main chain as they do in the
districts lying between Tasseremout and Amsmiz. A very considerable
mass, extending northward as a promontory from the main range,
became gradually more conspicuous as we advanced towards it, while
a minor mass lying much nearer to us was seen on our left. About
noon we approached the latter range in which the stratification
appeared very irregular with a prevailing southward dip, and the
strike NE. to SW. At its western extremity this range showed a line
of steep cliffs, reminding us of those near Tasseremout, with the
difference that the strata were here crumpled or contorted in a
remarkably uniform manner, the same curvature of the folds being
repeated nine or ten times. The compressing force must here have
operated nearly in the direction of the axis of the main chain,
and in a distance of some two miles the beds whose exposed edges
we viewed must have originally covered a space of nearly twice
that length.
As often happens when the air is nearly saturated with moisture,
the horizon was to-day remarkably clear, and we made out the
position of the city of Marocco, more than 40 miles distant, and
bearing nearly due NE. About due north, and not quite so distant,
rose the hills near Sheshaoua, and about midway between them a
remarkable conical hill seen from near Misra ben Kara.
Before 2 P.M. we approached a large _kasbah_ at a place called
Douerani. When we afterwards learned that this belonged to the
same chief who hospitably received M. Balansa, and assisted him in
exploring the neighbourhood until orders from Marocco cut his stay
short, we had some doubt whether this was not the place described
by him as Keira. An examination of his map and the account of his
expedition leads us, however, to the conclusion that Keira must be
the name of another habitation belonging to the same chief, lying
a few miles farther north, and that the mountain called Djebel Aït
Ougurt, ascended by M. Balansa, must be some eminence in the range
near at hand which we had just before been scrutinising. We now
perceived that there is a considerable valley or depression lying
between this outer range and the main mass of the Atlas, which is,
indeed, indicated in M. Balansa’s sketch map.
Before long we received a courteous message inviting us to stop at
the _kasbah_; but as it seemed clear that Seksaoua promised more easy
access to the higher mountains, we had no hesitation in adhering to
the plan already fixed, and declining the proffered hospitality. It
was not without regret that we adhered to our resolution, when the
chief came out with a numerous suite to visit us at our halting-place
close to the _kasbah_. The friendly air of the worthy old man,
which evidently made a deep impression on M. Balansa, was not
without effect upon us. Failing to induce us to stop on our way,
he sent an ample _mona_, including, besides tea and sugar, a parcel
of candles of French manufacture, the more acceptable as our supply
threatened to run short before we could reach Mogador.
Our halting-place was in a pleasant spot overlooking the broad bed of
the Oued Usbi, which appears to unite the torrent from a considerable
valley south of Seksaoua with several minor streams from the Atlas,
and to be the main affluent of the river of Sheshaoua. The weather
had improved, and the thermometer stood at about 70° F. in the
shade, our height above the sea being 2,671 feet (814·3 m.). Spiny
_Compositæ_ belonging to the genera _Scolymus_, _Echinops_,
_Cnicus_, and _Onopordum_, were the most conspicuous plants; but,
as no species not already gathered were seen here, we dispensed
ourselves from collecting and drying these troublesome inmates of
the herbarium.
It was near 4 P.M. when we started for Seksaoua, and, after crossing
the Oued Usbi, held on in a SW. direction nearly parallel to its
course. In little more than an hour we came to a large village,
which was the scene of unexpected commotion. As our cavalcade was
seen to approach, some natives ran on to announce the fact to the
villagers, and by the time we reached the first houses the whole
population turned out, and a scene ensued of which no description can
give an idea. The men who lined the way on either side shouted with
emulous vehemence and fury guttural sentences, illustrated by frantic
gesticulations, while the women and children kept up a deafening
accompaniment of shrieking, wailing, and howling, and the whole
formed a scene worthy of Pandemonium. It seemed sufficiently clear
that no hostile intentions against us were expressed, but amidst
the horrible din and confusion it was some minutes before we were
able to learn from Abraham the meaning of this wild excitement. It
appeared that, as constantly happens among the mountain people,
there was a feud between this and a neighbouring tribe; the village
had been attacked, or at least approached by the enemy, and one of
the villagers had been shot.
It was evident from the first that our brave escort felt extremely
uneasy; but when it became clear that the object of the people
was to invoke the protection of the soldiers of the Sultan against
further molestation, our two Kaïds for once thoroughly agreed on
a policy of strict neutrality, and in desiring to get as soon as
possible out of harm’s way. As for us, it may be feared that we
failed to maintain the gravity which, to the Oriental mind, befits
persons of distinction. Just when the confusion was at its worst,
and before we well understood what it portended, we happened to look
up to where on the top of the nearest house two or three storks, each
poised on one leg, were looking down on the frantic crowd. There was
something irresistibly ludicrous in the contrast between the air of
solemnity that characterises these birds and the insane excitement
of the human crowd below that set us off in a peal of laughter,
which we found it hard to tune down to decent seriousness.
The uppermost anxiety of our escort being to get away from any chance
of being mixed up in the local troubles, they proposed to push on as
far as possible towards the mouth of the valley, and we were all the
better pleased to find ourselves as near as possible to the mountains
in which we still hoped to effect another excursion. It was not,
however, practicable to go far. About two miles above the village a
rocky spur projects from the mass of the Atlas towards the plain,
and is backed by a mountain mass rising some 2,500 or 3,000 feet
above the valley. At the eastern base of this rocky promontory, in
a stony field planted with young olive trees, we pitched our tents
on very rough ground, where it was not easy to find a level spot
to sleep upon, but where we promised ourselves good botanising in
the immediate neighbourhood, even if unable to penetrate far into
the mountains.
Some unusual precautions were taken this evening to guard against
a night attack upon our camp, and the Kaïds assumed an air of
importance befitting men who felt that the time had at length
arrived for a display of their professional skill and prowess;
but, as we fully expected, the night passed without the slightest
molestation. A few musket shots discharged at a distance were heard,
exchanged between the hostile parties, or more probably fired _in
terrorem_ to show that the defenders were ready for action. As
we heard no more on the subject, it is probable that no further
disturbance ensued during our stay in the neighbourhood.
On the morning of May 26 our first anxiety was to ascertain what
might be our prospect of reaching from this point the head of
the valley, and making another ascent of the main range. We had
already heard rumours of disturbances among the native tribes in
the upper part of the valley, so that our expectations of success
did not run high; and when the sheik of the valley was forthcoming
we were not much surprised to hear him declare that an excursion
in that direction was utterly impracticable. We at once suspected
Kaïd el Hasbi of practising his usual machinations to defeat our
intentions; but with the difference that on this occasion there
was probably some foundation in fact for the tales that were told
us of conflicts between the neighbouring tribes, and of possible
danger for travellers. With an escort furnished by the orders of the
Sultan, and quite numerous enough to inspire respect among the rude
mountaineers, there would have been no real risk in proceeding along
the valley—or anywhere else in this part of the country—provided
we could have reckoned on our men; but in the face of their refusal,
there was no use in further pressing the point.
The next thing to be done was to make an arrangement for enabling
us to see something of the outer range of mountains immediately
surrounding our camp, and after some debating it was agreed that
on the following day we should ascend to the higher ridge of the
considerable mass already referred to as rising to the west of our
camp. Much nearer at hand, extending from behind our tents towards
the opening of the main valley, a steep rocky ridge, only from 400
to 500 feet in height, promised to show us what we had hitherto seen
little of, the rock vegetation of the lower region of the Atlas,
and we readily made up our minds to devote the remainder of this
day to its careful examination.
There was, however, another matter of a practical nature requiring
immediate attention. A glance at the map shows that in travelling
along the skirts of the Atlas from Seksaoua to Mogador our route
must lie through the district of Imintanout, and thence through
the adjoining provinces of Mtouga and Haha. We had informed
Mr. Carstensen of our intention to follow this line of route,
and fixed the probable date of our return to Mogador at the 2nd or
3rd of June. During the last two days we had heard vague reports of
disturbances going on in the provinces of Mtouga and Haha, and these
were now confirmed and aggravated by the sheik of Seksaoua. War was
actually raging, we were told, and the Governors had summoned all
their people to arms. As was to be expected, the men of our escort,
who clearly had no stomach for fighting of any kind, were becoming
very uneasy at the idea of coming near to the seat of operations,
and we apprehended that they might make an attempt to force us
to diverge from our intended route and travel northward across the
plain so as to rejoin the beaten road from Marocco to Mogador. Having
ascertained that the distance from Seksaoua to the _kasbah_ of the
Governor of Mtouga is no more than an easy day’s ride for men
travelling without luggage, Kaïd el Hadj of Mogador with two of
his men was despatched on a mission to Mtouga. He was to ascertain
the truth as to the stories that had reached us, and to require the
Governor, in case he considered extra protection necessary, to send
additional soldiers to escort us through his territory, thus, as we
hoped, committing us to keep to our intended route as far as Mtouga.
About this time we became a good deal interested in one of the
soldiers of our escort who had travelled with us throughout our
journey. He was a large man, with black skin, but with hair and
lips of less pronounced Negro type than we see among the natives of
western equatorial Africa. When leaving Mogador he had an ulcerous
sore on one hand, which was much swollen and almost useless. The
sore, under Hooker’s treatment, was quite healed, and he was
genuinely grateful for the benefit. Alone among the soldiers of
our escort he did what he could to forward our desire to explore
the mountain valleys; and of late, on more than one occasion, he
had given useful information that helped us to defeat the petty
intrigues of Kaïd el Hasbi. By our direction Abraham made some
inquiry as to his previous history, and he quite readily told
his story. He belonged, as it appeared, to one of the tribes that
inhabit the skirts of the Great Desert on the south side of the
Great Atlas. They led a predatory life, gaining an uncertain living
by robbing travellers, and killing those who made resistance. After
some years passed in this way, our friend seemed to have taken
a dislike to the mode of life, and enlisted as a soldier in the
service of the Sultan of Marocco. In his new position he had gained
or developed some elementary notions of religion and morality,
and he now expressed a strong opinion as to the impropriety of
robbery and murder.
Here was a case such as is often cited by superficial travellers
to show the absence of a moral sense among savage people. This man
had no doubt robbed and murdered in his youth without the slightest
compunction; but, given the conditions under which the ethical sense
could be developed, the result was to produce an individual morally
superior to the majority of those around him. The analogy, so well
drawn by Reid, between the moral nature of man and the development
of the plant from the seed holds good. External conditions are
necessary; but they do not create the germ, without which no
evolution can follow. The conditions vary from one individual to
another. One requires to be fostered by many favourable influences;
another, with stronger vitality, will bud forth under the least
auspicious conditions. The assertion that there are human beings
in whom it is impossible to awaken any sense of difference between
right and wrong must be, at least, premature, until the world shall
have reached a social condition in which each individual may be
tried under appropriate conditions.
Our day’s botanising on the rocks near Seksaoua was successful
beyond our expectations. Many conspicuous plants peculiar to
Marocco were here seen for the first time. Several of these had
been gathered by M. Balansa during the four days which he passed
in the adjoining district of Keira, but were known to us only by
name. That active and successful botanical traveller was able to
collect so few specimens that in several cases no duplicates were
available for distribution, and the specimens exist only in the rich
herbarium of M. Cosson. Among other novelties we here saw for the
first time _Trachelium angustifolium_ of Schousboe, utterly unlike
any other species of that ornamental genus; _Teucrium rupestre_
and _T. bullatum_, both described by M. Cosson from Balansa’s
specimens; and a single specimen of _Elæoselinum exinvolucratum_
of Cosson, a fine umbelliferous plant, apparently very rare even in
its native district. A very fine _Brassica_, standing five or six
feet high, with a straight upright stem, set with candelabrum-like
branches, was the most remarkable new plant found by us which had
not already come in the way of M. Balansa.
The morning had been cool; the thermometer at 8 A.M. did not rise
above 64° F., and the sky was overclouded; but as the day went
on the sun blazed out with great power, and this was one of the
hottest days we experienced. The heat was, of course, especially
felt on bare rocks which became so hot that the hand could not
bear them; and the soldier who had gone out by way of protecting
us judiciously retired to the shade of a fig-tree at the foot of
the hill. After some time, we separated and returned to the camp
by different routes. A portion of the slope not far above our
camp was altogether covered with broken blocks of moderate size
obviously derived from the steeper crags above. This ground abounded
in reptiles of various kinds, which were, however, so shy that it
was not easy to get a favourable view of them. By sitting perfectly
still for some minutes, Ball was partly successful in getting them
to approach him. The most remarkable creature much resembled a
miniature Iguanodon in form, being about eighteen inches long, with
a row of thick conical processes projecting upwards along the back,
and gradually diminishing towards the tail from about two inches
in height between the shoulders. Numerous lizards were also seen;
but no snakes, except a small black viperine species, seen gliding
between the stones, actually under one foot, which fortunately did
not touch or injure the animal.
By this time we were beginning to feel the effects of the
unsatisfactory dietary to which we had been reduced during the
four weeks since we left Mogador. It may seem unreasonable for
men in health, plentifully supplied with fowls, sheep, and eggs,
to complain of their food; but those who have experienced the
difference between the meat of well-fed animals and the stringy
tasteless fibre which is produced in such a country as this,
will duly appreciate our longing for some variety. As the season
advanced, and the herbage in the lower country became more and more
parched, the sheep, always miserably thin, approached nearer and
nearer to the condition of skeletons, covered with skin and ragged
wool, and for some time back we had given up the attempt to eat
any part, except the liver and kidneys broiled on short sticks;
while the fowls had become equally distasteful. The _keskossou_,
daily presented with the _mona_, was prepared with large quantities
of rancid butter, to which, in spite of many experiments, we never
could reconcile ourselves. Our attempts at obtaining any variety of
diet were quite unsuccessful. Ducks and geese, being by Mohammedans
considered unclean, were out of the question; and the turkey and
guinea-fowl appear to be unknown to the domestic economy of the
Moors. Our chief desideratum was fresh vegetables or fruit, but
these were not to be obtained. Except in the neighbourhood of the
coast towns, where they have been introduced by Europeans, none of
our European vegetables are cultivated in South Marocco, except
the cucumber and the pumpkin, and, owing to the want of the most
elementary skill in horticulture, these seem to remain in season for
a very short time; while the cultivation of fruit, at least in the
districts we traversed, seems to be generally neglected. In this
respect Marocco presents a striking contrast to most places with
a somewhat similar climate in the Mediterranean region. Egypt,
Palestine, and Syria, however low they may have fallen owing to
corrupt and oppressive government, have retained some share in
the inheritance of an ancient civilisation. We had carried with us
sundry tins of preserved vegetables, of which green peas were by far
the most acceptable; but our stores were now nearly exhausted, and
our chief remaining luxury was portable soup, made with compressed
vegetables and biscuits, which was now served out very sparingly. Tea
without milk was often pleasant in the evening; but cocoa, prepared
with milk in small tins, was much preferred for the morning meal.
The evening air was cool and pleasant, and, in spite of the advancing
season, the night almost cold, though the height of our station,
by the mean of two observations, did not exceed 2,867 feet (874
m.). Even the horrible howling of the dogs in a neighbouring village
failed to keep us from a good night’s rest.
The morning of May 27 broke brilliantly, and, though the sun’s
rays were already hot, the thermometer in the shade at 6 A.M. did
not rise above 60° F. Another attempt was made to induce the sheik
to take us for an excursion up the main valley; but he held fast to
his declaration that the country in that direction was too dangerous,
and repeated his offer of the previous day to lead us up the nearer
mountain. Failing anything better, we resolved to accept this.
The declivity of the hill immediately west of our camp being
much too steep for horses, we followed a circuitous track, at
first NW. and then SSW., chiefly along steep slopes, on which,
among other novelties, we first gathered _Erodium atlanticum_,
discovered in this district by M. Balansa. After an ascent of some
1,500 or 1,600 feet the track turned again nearly due west, and
we found ourselves on the southern slope of the mountain, which we
now saw to be almost completely detached from the main range of the
Atlas. The slightly convex ridge on which we stood inclined gently
to the south, forming the watershed between the Seksaoua valley
and that of Imintanout which adjoins it on the west. The slopes of
the mountains enclosing both those valleys are better wooded than
usual in the Atlas, some variety of evergreen oak being apparently
the prevailing tree. Behind us, as we stood facing the great range,
the mountain rose some 1,200 feet above our present level, and as
the sun was hot we did not immediately dismount, but continued to
ride some part of the way, only the final ascent being made on foot.
The view was in many respects very interesting, as it showed us a
great part of the main range from an entirely new point of view,
and the air on this day was unusually clear. Looking westward, where
the horizon, at a distance of at least eighty miles, must have been
rather near the Atlantic coast, we were able to assure ourselves
that the hills that extend through most of the great province of
Haha are all of moderate height, none of them approaching that
on which we stood. In this respect Beaudouin’s map is much more
correct than that of Gerhard Rohlfs, which seems to show that the
main chain at its western end is broken up into lofty, diverging
branches, some of which extend far through Haha. No prominent object
caught the eye to the northward, except the familiar flat-topped
hills near Sheshaoua. For the last time we were able to distinguish
the site of the city of Marocco, bearing about NE. by E., and over
sixty miles distant. About due east the high range at the head of
the Aït Mesan valley showed much more snow than when we viewed it
five days before from the summit of Djebel Tezah, while the latter
mountain seemed pretty much in the same condition in which we had
found it. About due south a rugged peak towards the head of the
Imintanout valley had snow in rifts and depressions; and another of
somewhat similar aspect, rising farther east and above the head of
the Seksaoua valley, seemed to be the highest point in the whole
range west of the sources of the Oued Nfys. From their position,
and the ruggedness of their aspect, either of these peaks promised
well for a naturalist who could succeed in gaining access to them,
but we felt that such good fortune was not now in store for us.
The fresh sheet of snow which had fallen on the Aït Mesan range
within the last few days led us to what seemed an explanation of the
inconsistent accounts given as well by travellers as by natives as to
the existence of perpetual snow on this part of the Great Atlas. From
its position between the Great Desert to the south, the Atlantic
Ocean to the west, and the low country to the north, it is obvious
that a range of mountains from 11,000 to 13,000 feet in height must
frequently be the seat of violent atmospheric disturbances. Whenever
these draw from the ocean currents of heated air, nearly saturated
with moisture, into the upper region, the cooling effect consequent
on rapid expansion must produce copious precipitation, and it is
most probable that on the higher part of the range this, even in
the hottest season, takes the form of snow. But, as we had seen,
the snow melts with extreme rapidity under the almost vertical sun
during the summer months; and hence one traveller may have seen the
range thickly snowed even in the hottest season, while another,
with equal truth, may describe it as almost completely bare. The
state of things is such that a very moderate change in the physical
conditions might easily lead to the accumulation of an annual surplus
of unmelted snow, which is the first condition for the formation
of glaciers. A mere increase in the amount of precipitation, with
little change in the general conditions of temperature of this
region, might produce glaciers reaching as low down as that whose
moraine we saw at the head of the Aït Mesan valley.
Many early-flowering plants were already withered, but we collected
on the mountain several interesting species. Of two tall and very
distinct _Resedas_ found here, one is also a native of Spain; the
other, _R. elata_, of Cosson, was first gathered by M. Balansa,
and seems to be confined to this district. Of another curious
plant discovered by the same active naturalist we now first
saw satisfactory specimens. It is at first sight scarcely to be
distinguished from a species characteristic of the hot and dry region
of North Africa—the _Cynara acaulis_ of Linnæus. The latter was
discovered by Tilli, a Florentine physician, afterwards professor
of botany at Pisa, who was called to Constantinople early in the
last century to cure the favourite daughter of the Sultan. Being
successful in his treatment, he received many tokens of favour,
and seems to have made use of his opportunities to visit several
parts of the Turkish Empire, and certainly travelled in the Regency
of Tunis. The same plant was next seen by the English traveller,
Thomas Shaw, who mentions it in the Appendix to his Travels
published in 1738; and it was at last more fully described and
well figured by Desfontaines in his excellent work, the _Flora
Atlantica_. Decandolle, in attempting to reduce to order the vast
mass of plants that belong to the natural order of _Compositæ_,
clearly saw that this differed essentially from the genus _Cynara_
(of which the type is the common artichoke), and referred it first
to _Serratula_, and finally to _Rhaponticum_; and it has hence been
generally known as _Rhaponticum acaule_. Many botanists were somewhat
startled to find in the _Genera Plantarum_ of Bentham and Hooker
that the authors had united all the plants hitherto ranked under the
generic name _Rhaponticum_ with _Centaurea_, a vast genus, containing
species of the most varied aspect, of which nearly 300 are already
known in the Mediterranean region. It was interesting to us to find
that the new species discovered by Balansa, of which the foliage
is quite undistinguishable from the old _Rhaponticum acaule_, is,
as regards the flowering heads, intermediate in structure between
that and recognised species of _Centaurea_, though nearer to the
latter. If we had remembered Shaw’s statement, that the roots of
his _Cynara acaulis_ have an agreeable flavour, and are eaten by
the Arabs in some parts of Africa, we should certainly have tried
whether the species are also similar in this respect.
During the ascent of the mountain we had passed near a little hamlet,
containing eight or ten houses of the poorest class; but the laws of
native hospitality required that refreshments should be offered to
the strangers, and on the way back a halt was called. The _mona_
consisted of eggs, wheaten cakes, butter, and milk, which were
speedily despatched; and we added to our collections a curious
biennial variety of _Rumex vesicarius_, having the membranous wings
enclosing the fruit of a bright rose red.
By 4 P.M. we had got back to our camp, and the remainder of the day
was devoted to the care of our collections. Before nightfall Kaïd
el Hadj returned from his mission to Mtouga, bringing confirmation
of the reports as to the outbreak of hostilities between the people
of Mtouga and their neighbours of Haha, with an addition to our
escort in the shape of six ragged-looking soldiers sent by the
Governor of Mtouga.
On the morning of May 28 our numbers were further increased by
the return of the two soldiers who had left us at Sektana for the
purpose of escorting Maw to Mogador. They were welcome, for they
brought letters from England, together with a good account of our
travelling companion. He had reached Mogador early on the fifth day
from Sektana, and happened to arrive a few hours before the departure
of a small British steamer bound from the Canary Islands to London.
Before departing, we gave a last look at the neighbourhood of our
camp, and reluctantly abstained from attempting a close examination
of the ancient castle, or fort, which stood at the opposite side of
the stream commanding the entrance to the main valley. We were well
aware that any curiosity shown in that direction would have been
set down to designs on buried treasure, and would have aggravated
the suspicion with which all our proceedings were viewed by the
native authorities.
We did not start until 10 A.M., and with an unusually long cavalcade
followed a faintly marked track that winds round the northern
base of the mountain which we had ascended on the preceding day,
gradually attaining to a height of several hundred feet above
the plain. Before long we crossed the borders of Imintanout, a
district including several villages under a sheik who is dependent
on the Governor of Haha. Through the valley, which here opens out,
lies the main road from Marocco to Tarudant, the chief town of
Sous. Jackson, who seems to have gained the especial favour of the
reigning Emperor, received, about the beginning of this century,
permission to accompany a military force despatched from Marocco
to Tarudant, and no other European is known to have traversed this
part of the Atlas.[1] Unfortunately his account of the expedition
is limited to the statement that the way lies through a narrow
defile, where the path cut in the rock is only 15 inches wide,
with the mountain rising almost perpendicularly on one side, and on
the other a precipice ‘as steep as Dover cliff, but more than ten
times the height.’ It would have been a matter of great interest
to us to make a short excursion up the valley, and to penetrate
this defile, but once more we were doomed to disappointment. The
sheik, having notice of our approach, met us near to what seemed
the chief village. His language and manner were quite friendly,
but he declared that it was quite impossible for us to enter the
valley. Fighting, as he declared, was actually going on between the
mountain tribes, those of Ida Mahmoud, to the east of the valley,
taking part with Mtouga, and those of Ida Ziki, on the west side,
holding with Haha. It was impossible to get any reliable information
as to the nature of the country along the mountain road. According to
one informant the distance to Tarudant may be traversed in two days,
while another declared that time to be necessary to reach the summit
of the pass. It seems certain that the main chain in approaching
its western termination has a less regular structure than in the
part nearer Marocco. It throws out numerous diverging ridges;
the peaks, while inferior in absolute height, are more isolated;
and the valleys, or at least that of Imintanout, now opening in
front of us, seem to be more deeply excavated. We certainly heard
the names of the two mountains mentioned above, which appear on
Beaudouin’s map; but no name at all resembling Djebel Aithadius,
which M. Balansa gives for one of the higher snow-seamed peaks in
this part of the range.
We were here again struck by the difficulty of catching the sounds
from native lips, a feat to be achieved only by repeated trials. At
a first essay two Europeans will often write down a name in ways
so utterly different that they cannot be recognised as intended to
represent the same sound. Though some of the Shelluhs understand
and use the word _Gebel_ (or _Djebel_) for a mountain, the native
word, at least in this district, seems to be certainly _Ida_,
probably connected with _Idrarn_, the plural form of _Adrar_,
a mountain. Idrarn Drann is the name given by the Shelluhs to
the whole, or some considerable portion, of the Atlas range; and
etymologists, when they come to know more of the Bereber dialects,
may consider whether the name Dyris, by which this part of the Atlas
was known to the Romans, is connected with the same root. Captain
Beaudouin, the author of the French map, seems to have been misled
by natives of this region, who would sometimes call a great mountain
well known to them by the generic name _Ida_, and sometimes by a
special local name, and was thus led to consider these as alternative
names. Thus he writes the names of three mountains, Ida _ou_ Ziki,
Ida _ou_ Mahmoud, and Ida _ou_ Mahmed.
When it was clear that nothing was here to be effected in the way
of mountain exploration, and it was seen that the day was too far
gone to reach Mtouga, we decided on proceeding to Milhaïn, a place,
as we were told, standing close to the foot of the mountains. Only
a slender stream which we crossed, issues from the valley above
Imintanout, and conflicting statements were made as to the course
of this, as well as of the other stream which we saw somewhat
later at Milhaïn. In ordinary weather both are probably absorbed
into irrigation channels before they traverse the plain; but it is
most likely that their natural course, which they must follow in
rainy weather, joins that of the Oued Usbi flowing from Seksaoua,
and reaches the Oued Tensift by the way of Sheshaoua.
An easy ride of two hours took us to Milhaïn. The outer skirts
of the Atlas here had an unexpectedly bare and sterile aspect. We
had supposed that in the portion of the range approaching the
Atlantic coast a more copious rainfall would produce more luxuriant
vegetation. We were now within about 70 miles of the ocean, but,
as compared with the valleys south of Marocco, the change had been
in the opposite sense. It may well be that owing to the diminished
height of the mountains the cooling of the aërial currents from
the W. and SW. is here insufficient to cause much rain, except
in winter, or possibly this part of the range is more exposed to
hot and dry winds from the desert. It may also be true that the
difference in the vegetation is largely due to the mineral structure
of the rocks in this district. They chiefly consist of hard brittle
semi-crystalline limestone, with softer beds intercalated, and the
rainfall must be very rapidly absorbed in crevices and fissures. No
trees were to be seen, except olives planted near the villages,
and a few white poplars near the banks of the stream beside which
we pitched our camp.
We were fully prepared for the assurance of the village sheik that
the condition of the country made it impossible for him to conduct
us into the valley which here issues from the Great Atlas, and sends
down a stream rather more considerable than that of Imintanout;
and, as it was clearly useless to press the point, we contented
ourselves by expressing a wish to take a short walk into a recess of
the mountain enclosed between steep rocky declivities that opened
within sight of our camp. A jocund young Shelluh was appointed
as a guide, though none in reality was required; and he somewhat
interested us by singing lustily at the top of his voice songs of
a lively character. Hitherto all the mountaineers we had met were
marked by a serious and somewhat saddened demeanour, as of people
on whom the burden of life pressed heavily, the only exceptions
being among the men we had brought from Mogador, of whom Ambak was
especially noticeable for his cheerful and lively humour.
The outer slopes of the hills about Milhaïn were scantily clad with
a meagre vegetation, in which a woolly variety of _Ononis Natrix_,
_Helianthemum virgatum_, some variety of the ubiquitous _Teucrium
Polium_ and _Macrochloa tenacissima_ were the prevailing species;
and the attempts at tillage seemed to produce only miserable crops
of barley. We expected to find more variety on the rocks which were
before us, and were not altogether disappointed; but the season
was already far advanced, and the spring vegetation partially
dried up. Along the dry bed of the streamlet, that is probably
filled only after heavy rain, we gathered _Euphorbia pinea_, not
before seen in Marocco. On the dry rocks we found a curious form
of _Coronilla viminalis_, reduced to a stunted bush, scarcely two
feet high, with its curious jointed pods, four or five inches in
length. A range of quite vertical crags was almost covered with two
peculiar plants of this region—_Euphorbia rimarum_, of Cosson,
and _Andrachne maroccana_, of Ball. The latter, though abundantly
different in structure, has much the habit of _A. telephioides_,
the wide-spread Mediterranean species. In a crevice of these rocks
a single small specimen of the rare fern, _Asplenium Petrarchæ_,
was also found.
The hill opposite that which we ascended was crowned by a fort,
similar in character to those which we had seen elsewhere on the
skirts of the Atlas, to which our Shelluh guide gave the name
Taganagurt. Our involuntary change of route prevented us from
ascertaining whether these extend westward along the northern
base of the mountains in the direction of Agadir, but this is
probable. Future travellers may be able to ascertain more about them
than we were able to do. To whatever date their construction be
referred, it is clear that they were erected either by the people
inhabiting the low country to restrain the incursions of mountain
tribes, or by the latter to repel attacks on their independence,
the former being, in our opinion, the more probable opinion.
We returned to camp between 5 and 6 P.M., and found that a courier
from Mogador had arrived with letters from Mr. Carstensen. The
whole province of Haha was, he assured us, in a most disturbed
state; and besides, the war with Mtouga was complicated by the
insurrection of some of the tribes in Haha against the authority
of their own Governor. He strongly urged that we should abandon the
intention of travelling along the skirts of the Atlas through Haha,
and make up our minds to return from Mtouga by way of Shedma,
telling us that he proposed to meet us at the _kasbah_ of the
Governor of that province on the last day of May. We were very
loth to forego the promise of seeing a district new to travellers,
and far more interesting than any lying on the direct way from
Mtouga to Mogador; but we felt it impossible to persevere in the
face of Mr. Carstensen’s strong opposition. It was, indeed, open
to question whether, under the ægis of the Sultan’s protection,
we might not without serious risk have carried out our original
intention. Whatever might be the intestine troubles of the country,
it could not suit any of the contending parties to provoke encounter
with the paramount authority of the Sultan; but we felt that we
had no right to take a course directly opposed to the advice of
the official representative of our Government, and especially of
one to whom we felt under so many obligations.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: Mr. Lempriere, an army surgeon, who went in 1791
by the invitation of the reigning Sultan to treat his son Mouley
Absolon, Governor of Sous, probably travelled this way on his road
from Tarudant to Marocco; but his narrative is too imperfect to
establish the conclusion. See Appendix C.]