Departure from Milhaïn — Defile of Aïn Tarsil — Dwellings
of the troglodytes — Arrival at Mtouga — Gloomy evening —
Governor’s return from the fight — Prisoners of war — Their
fate — Ride to Mskala — A venerable Moor — Return to the
_kasbah_ of Shedma — Poisoned guests — Ride to Aïn el-Hadjar
— The Iron mountain — Ancient mining work — Eccentric soldier
— Ascent of Djebel Hadid — Ruins of Akermout — Ride to Mogador
— A _kasbah_ in ruins — Powder play on the beach — Return
to Mogador.
The partial failure of our plans doubtless had a depressing effect
on the morning of May 29, and this was increased by the aspect
of the weather, which was misty, and before long turned to fine,
drizzling rain. At 8 A.M. the thermometer stood at 58° F., and
we found the height above the sea of our camp at Milhaïn to be
3,397 feet (1,035·3 metres). We were in no hurry to start; but,
as the rain grew lighter and finally ceased, we got under way about
11 A.M. The sheik, who had provided for our wants and those of
our escort on a liberal scale, escorted us for a short distance,
and we parted with friendly expressions on both sides.
Our course lay somewhat west of due north, over a bare and sterile
country. Small hamlets, surrounded by a narrow belt of cultivation,
were seen at rather wide intervals; and, save a few olive trees near
the houses, we did not pass a single tree during the day. _Artemisia
Herba-alba_, and _Chenopodiaceæ_ of the _Salsola_ tribe, were
the prevailing plants, indicating the presence of gypsum and of
soluble salts in the soil. About three o’clock we approached
a large village, with a massive square _kasbah_, and soon after,
following a dry watercourse, entered the singular defile which,
as well as the village, is known by the name Aïn Tarsil. It has
evidently been formed by erosion from the limestone strata which
dip slightly towards the south. The surrounding country here shows
a hilly undulating surface, unbroken by any marked inequalities;
but the stream, though dry in ordinary weather, has cut a trench
from two to three miles in length, and from thirty to fifty feet
in width, between steep walls of rock about equal in height to the
width of the trench.
M. Balansa, the only traveller who is known to have passed through
this defile, must have been more hurried than we were, as he does
not speak of the numerous rare and local plants which grow upon the
rocks, most of them, indeed, the same that we had found on the rocks
about Seksaoua. But he could not avoid being struck by the singular
excavations in the rock, evidently used at some remote period for
human habitation, which extend at intervals along both sides of the
defile. In some cases there may have been a natural recess in the
rock, afterwards artificially enlarged; but the majority appear
to be altogether the work of human hands; and in most of them,
where the entrance had become difficult owing to the breaking away
of pieces of rock from the edge, this was afterwards made good by
building up a bit of loose wall of irregular blocks of stone. The
height of the entrance does not exceed four feet, and is often
less. The most singular point about these dwellings is the fact
that they are all near the top of the cliff, where the rock is
nearly vertical, in positions that cannot now be reached without
a ladder, or other artificial assistance. It might be suggested
that since these prehistoric dwellings were abandoned, the work of
erosion has deepened the trench, and thus increased the difficulty
of access; but unless we suppose that during the same period the
climatal conditions have been profoundly modified, this seems a
highly improbable explanation. As far as we could afterwards judge,
the watercourse running through the defile receives the drainage of
only a small tract of hill country, and the marks of water action do
not extend to the rocks on either side. It is impossible to see these
remains without being reminded of the notions current in antiquity as
to troglodytes who dwelt in the neighbourhood of the Atlas mountains,
and who could run faster than horses;[1] but until the dwellings
can be carefully examined, all speculation as to their date and
origin must be vague and unreliable. It seems most probable that
the rude savages who fashioned them for their own use deliberately
chose positions offering the best security against attack, either
from human enemies or wild beasts. Whether to facilitate entrance
they used a rude ladder, such as the notched trunk of a tree, or
relied on the superior climbing power which the freer use of the
foot confers on most savage people, must remain uncertain.
As usual in this country the Moors refer these, as well as all
other antique remains, to the ‘Christians,’ and stories of
concealed treasure connected with all such monuments, of whatever
date, make it almost impossible to attempt to explore or examine
them. The work can be undertaken only by a traveller authorised
by a special order of the Sultan, who should also be prepared by
handsome presents to secure the goodwill of the local authorities.
We halted for luncheon in a convenient spot, and gave some time to
botanising on the rocks, where, along with other plants, we found
a beautiful variety of the _Stachys saxicola_ of Cosson, densely
covered with very long, white, silky hairs. It was near to five
o’clock before we were again under way. For some time the defile
continued, the cliff-like walls still showing at intervals excavated
rock dwellings, and at one point it receives a tributary stream,
with a bed now dry, which had cut a similar trench, and whose
cliffs also showed the traces of rock dwellings. As we advanced,
always ascending, we gradually emerged from the defile, and found
ourselves on the slope of the hills that extend northward from the
base of the Great Atlas for a distance of thirty or forty miles, and
are probably continuous with the low range that we crossed between
Shedma and Aïn Oumast. There must be some change hereabouts in the
mineral composition of the limestone rock, if not in its geological
age; as from about this point the surface was much less barren,
and the vegetation more varied. Among other fine _Cynaraceæ_
we saw here _Atractylis macrophylla_ of Desfontaines, only once
before met in our journey.
The sky was overcast, and evening coming on, when we reached the
summit-level, which by our observations is 3,905 feet (1,190·2
m.) above the sea-level.[2] It did not appear to us that the
surrounding hills anywhere rise more than 200 or 300 feet above the
point where we passed, and, as we afterwards assured ourselves,
they gradually diminish in height as they stretch northward from
the main range of the Atlas. Although the matter is not free from
doubt, we incline to agree with M. Balansa in believing that the
hills we had now crossed form the watershed between the affluents
of the stream running northward by Sheshaoua, and those of the Oued
Kseb, which reaches the sea close to Mogador. Beaudouin’s map,
usually correct as regards the accessible parts of the country,
represents things quite otherwise; according to him all the drainage
of this district is carried NNW. by a stream which passes east
of the Djebel Hadid, and reaches the sea between Mogador and the
mouth of the Oued Tensift; while the Oued Kseb, or Oued el Ghored
of Beaudouin, has a course of only some twenty miles, and drains
but a small tract of country near the coast. In most countries
such a question would admit of no doubt; but, between absorption
by irrigation and loss by evaporation, the streams in South Marocco
dwindle away on their course so fast, that only at certain seasons it
is possible to trace their course. As now advised, we believe that
many considerable streams unite in the Oued Kseb, although this,
at its mouth, is a mere trickling rivulet, unable to keep a definite
course through the Mogador sands to the sea; while the stream laid
down east of the Djebel Hadid has not, so far as we could ascertain,
any real existence.
A large flowered form of _Nigella arvensis_, with a few other plants
which we had not seen since we approached the mountains, indicated
a change in the soil, now much less barren as we descended the
north-west slope of the hills; and as twilight had set in we reached
the _kasbah_ of the Governor of Mtouga, a large pile surrounded by
lofty stone walls. The soldiers, who had ridden forward to announce
our approach, found for some time no response to their summons
at the gate; and it was after some delay that two or three slaves
presented themselves, and we then learned that the Governor and all
his men had gone forth to fight against their enemies from Haha. No
orders had been given for our entertainment; but we were told that
within the enclosure of the _kasbah_ there were rooms which were at
our disposal. Our brave escort at once grasped at the prospect of
shelter and safety within the walls, and were urgent that we should
at once decide on accepting the offer. On inspecting the room to
which he was conducted, Hooker had no difficulty, however, in at once
refusing the proffered accommodation, and the alternative course
of pitching our tents within the enclosure, on ground constantly
trodden by cattle, was equally uninviting. Much to the trouble of
our followers, the order finally went forth that the tents should
be pitched on some moderately level ground outside the _kasbah_.
Slowly and sulkily the order was obeyed, we meanwhile sitting on
our horses, while the night fell gloomily around us. There was no
real ground for the uneasiness which our people undoubtedly felt,
as night attacks are quite foreign to the usages of the country;
but there was a genuine feeling that the Mtouga people were greatly
overmatched in their struggle with the Haha tribes, three or four
times more numerous than themselves. In the absence of supper
every ear was on the alert for the approach of some one with
tidings of the fray. At last, about 9 o’clock two men appeared;
whether they had taken part in the fight, or judiciously taken
flight, did not clearly appear. They claimed a victory for Mtouga,
declaring that eighteen men of Haha had been killed, and that many
prisoners had been taken, while acknowledging that the victors had
also suffered losses. Half an hour later the main body approached,
but it was soon evident that the return was anything rather than
a triumph. The night was too dark to take account of the whole
number that passed by our camp, or to observe their countenances;
but the Governor with a good many mounted soldiers, and a file of
from twenty to thirty prisoners tied together to bring up the rear,
passed close before our tent, and the dark outline of each figure
against the sky passed in long succession before us.
There was something weird and uncanny in the deep silence of the
nocturnal procession. The Governor, wrapped up in a white _haik_, did
not turn his head, or seem to notice the strangers, and his followers
copied his demeanour. Not a sound was uttered until the file of
prisoners passed by, when one man made a sudden rush towards us,
imploring our protection. Of course the attempt was vain, for they
were all securely tied together, and each end of the rope was held
by a mounted soldier. With many a blow and curse the wretched man
was driven along to share the fate of his companions in captivity.
A little later came a message from the Governor, excusing himself
for not coming in person to see us. He owned to having lost many of
his men during the day’s encounter, and said he was too anxious
and disturbed to be able to entertain us. An ample _mona_ was at the
same time sent, and this helped to restore comparative cheerfulness
among our followers.
As was natural under the circumstances we were anxious for
information, but Abraham was not able to learn any reliable
particulars as to the proceedings of the day. He professed, however,
to be well acquainted with the method of warfare carried on between
these turbulent tribes. The fighting consists in irregular skirmishes
by men who keep as far as possible under cover, in which large
quantities of powder are consumed with comparatively insignificant
results. But, whatever be the result, it is a point of honour with
each party to bring back prisoners. It is not often that these
are made among the fighting men. Harmless peasants are seized—if
of the enemy’s tribe so much the better; but, if these are not
to be had, those of their own tribe are made the victims. We were
assured that the same thing happens with the Sultan’s troops on
the rather frequent occasions when they are despatched against some
refractory mountain tribe. The mountaineers commonly make good their
retreat to some spot not easily reached by horsemen; but, in order
to be able to announce a victory, the detachment seizes any hapless
people that come in their way on their return to the capital. When
we inquired as to the destiny of the captives it was horrible to be
told that some of them would certainly be butchered during the night.
It is strange, although similar anomalies are found in all ages and
countries, to learn that, along with an utter absence of rudimentary
feelings of humanity, these people show indications of the sentiment
of chivalry. However strangely understood, the point of honour has
a recognised place in their ethical system. The feud between Haha
and Mtouga had been smouldering for many weeks, and hostilities
were to have commenced soon after our arrival in the country. But
the brother of the Kaïd of Haha was about that time seized with
small-pox, and it was thought proper to await his recovery before
commencing the war.
The night was overclouded, dark, and almost cold, and we were on foot
at an early hour on the morning of May 30. The _kasbah_, standing on
an elevated plateau, 3,085 feet (940·3 metres) above the sea-level,
does not, owing to the undulating character of the surface, command
any extensive view. Close beside it, a stream from the Atlas has
excavated a broad trench, similar in structure to Aïn Tarsil,
but very different in aspect. A streamlet here meanders along
the flat bottom between walls of rock some 40 feet in height,
and the more constant supply of moisture suffices to cover the
floor of the miniature valley with a carpet of vegetation, and to
support a fringe of tall water plants along the banks. We might
probably have added several species to our lists if we could have
devoted a day to botanising along the course of the stream; but in
the existing state of the country that could not be thought of,
and we contented ourselves with a morning stroll over the ground
surrounding the _kasbah_, and along the neighbouring banks of
the stream. As we wandered separately, Hooker was assailed with
extraordinary vehemence by a negro woman. Not a word could, of
course, be understood; but the objurgations of a virago are to some
extent intelligible in every language. It was not possible to guess
what induced this outpouring of threats and abuse, but it seemed
probable that a botanist might unconsciously have done something
to clash with the superstitious feelings of the natives. It is
clear that the religion of Mohammed reaches but skin deep with the
Bereber population, while traditional observances, derived from far
more ancient religious systems, are still deeply rooted among them.
Much to the relief of our escort, whose first anxiety was to get
away from the troubled district, we started about 10 A.M. The
Kaïd sent another message, again excusing himself from a personal
interview. We afterwards learned that he had made a present of
four dollars to each of our escort, of course with the object of
procuring some degree of support and countenance at head-quarters.
Our course during the day lay between NW. and NNW., keeping for
a short distance along the course of the stream. At two or three
points we saw traces of rock dwellings, not nearly so well preserved
as those of Aïn Tarsil. Before long the walls of rock subsided on
each side of the stream, which bent in a westerly direction, while
our track ascended gently amid undulating downs, till we reached a
point commanding a wide unbroken view of the northern horizon. To
the eye the country before us seemed almost a dead level, but there
is a decided general slope from south to north, as we more fully
ascertained in the evening, when we found that we had descended
fully 1,500 feet during the day’s ride. The outline of the Iron
Mountain (Djebel Hadid) was now clearly traceable in the distance,
the highest part bearing about due NW. As we advanced there was a
manifest improvement in the fertility of the soil, and for a space
of five or six miles we rode amidst cultivated fields, apparently
the most productive that we had seen in South Marocco. The same
conditions necessarily affected the wild plants of the country,
and made it difficult to secure specimens of manageable dimensions
of several interesting species. A great _Daucus_ (_D. maximus_
of Desfontaines), probably a luxuriant form, or sub-species,
of the common carrot, grew to a height of four or five feet, and
the flowering umbels were often more than a foot in diameter. More
ornamental was a splendid _Centaurea_, three or four feet high, with
very large heads of deep orange flowers, often tinged with purple,
which we took to be altogether new. Subsequent examination made it
doubtful whether it should be separated from a very variable North
African species, _C. incana_ of Desfontaines, though much larger
in all its parts, and differing in the colour of the flowers.
We halted for luncheon near a village called Hazarar Assa, standing,
as we were assured, at the frontier, between the provinces of Mtouga
and Shedma. In Beaudouin’s map those provinces are separated by an
intervening strip of territory, apparently belonging to the Ouled
Bou Sba tribe. As political divisions in this country are subject
to frequent alteration, the map may have been correct at the time
it was made.
Maize was grown near the village, although no means for irrigation
were apparent. As the growth of this plant is in general absolutely
dependent on a frequent supply of water to the soil, we could only
infer that we had come within the limits of the coast climate,
and that as a general rule rain cannot there be very unfrequent
during the months of April, May, and June.
During the halt the villagers reported that fighting was still
going on in the neighbourhood, and a few gunshots were heard in the
distance; but, as our course led us away from the scene of action,
the result, if any, was never known to us.
In the afternoon our track bore more westward than before, keeping
about due NW. in general direction. We soon left the fertile ground
behind us, and for many miles rode over slightly undulating stony
downs, where the prevailing slope is always to the N. or NW. The
vegetation in these barren tracts is mostly of the social kind, two
or three species, or sometimes one only, prevailing over a wide area,
and then being suddenly supplanted by others. _Artemisia Herba-alba_,
and _Retama monosperma_, are in this part of the country the
dominant species. The monotony of the way was pleasantly broken by
crossing a little valley traversed by a mere rivulet, which, however,
sufficed to support a more varied and cheerful vegetation. From the
rising ground beyond it, we gained a view to the south, and saw at a
distance of eight or ten miles a massive pile of building crowning
a low, thickly-planted hill, with a large enclosed space occupying
part of the slope. The _kasbah_ belonged to the Kaïd of Haha, and
was on a scale proportioned to the importance of the Governor of
one of the largest and richest provinces of the empire. We found
additional reason for regretting the ill-timed local war, which
prevented us from paying him a visit. Although guilty of frequent
acts of atrocious cruelty, he was said to receive strangers with
the utmost courtesy and hospitality.
As evening was fast approaching, we rode hurriedly through a little
defile among the hills, where the rocks promised plants of interest,
and soon after came upon the first Argan trees that we had seen
since we quitted the province of Shedma, on April 30. Associated
as the tree was in our minds with Mogador, where we had bidden
farewell to European life, the sight awakened feelings of regret at
the approaching termination of our tour, tempered by satisfaction
at the prospect of returning to the usages and intercourse of
civilised life.
About seven o’clock we reached Mskala, a rather large village on a
stony slope, and saw close beside it an extensive camp where the old
Governor of Shedma, with a considerable force, was, by the Sultan’s
order, watching the progress of events in the contest between the
adjoining provinces. We established ourselves in a stony field a
few hundred yards away from the Governor’s camp, and before long
an ample _mona_, consisting of two sheep, twenty-four fowls, tea,
sugar, butter, and other luxuries, followed a little later by seven
large dishes of cooked food, satisfied the cravings of our ever
greedy soldiers, and the greater part of the night was devoted to
general feasting throughout our camp.
On the morning of May 31 our men were in no haste to bestir
themselves after the orgy of the preceding night, and we indulged
in a longer rest than usual. The weather was fine and clear,
but remarkably cool considering the moderate elevation of this
district. By our observations our camp stood at 1,562 feet (476·3
m.) above the sea; yet at 8 A.M., when the sun was already high above
the horizon, the thermometer marked only 65° F. It was suggested
that politeness required a visit to the old Governor, and Hooker,
with our interpreter and some of the escort, devoted himself to
that duty, while Ball set off alone for a short botanical ramble
over the bare, stony hills surrounding our camp. The excursion was
not very fruitful, except in the way of illustrating the effects
of barren soil and exposure, without the slightest shade or cover,
on the growth of many species that here assumed a dwarfed and
stunted condition.
Hooker, who had seen too much of the people of barbarous countries to
be open to the illusions that many travellers, new to their manners,
readily fall into, was, for once, very favourably impressed by his
interview with the Governor of Shedma. He had found an old man of
venerable aspect, with remarkably fine features, whose conversation
displayed a happy union of dignity and frankness. He was engaged
in superintending the distribution of pay to his soldiers, and the
subject that naturally arose for discussion was the part which he
and his forces were destined to play in the intestine troubles
of their neighbours. His instructions from the Sultan were, as
it seemed, of an indefinite kind. He had, in the first instance,
endeavoured to play the part of mediator and avert the outbreak
of hostilities. His present duty was to hold himself in readiness
to carry out such further orders as he might receive. Considering
the jealousies that always exist between the people of neighbouring
provinces, usually inhabited by tribes of different race and origin,
it may be doubted whether the troubles and losses of their neighbours
are in Marocco viewed as matters of deep concern; or whether, as
sometimes happens among the statesmen of more important countries,
the mediator may not feel some secret satisfaction at the failure
of his own proposals.
Shortly before 10 A.M. we started for an easy ride of three hours
over the undulating country that lies between Mskala and the _kasbah_
of Shedma, where we were to meet Mr. Carstensen. It was an agreeable
change from the bare hills, with which we had of late been familiar,
to enter on a comparatively well-wooded country. The Argan trees were
nowhere so near together as to form what could be called a forest,
but scattered in small clumps or single trees over the surface,
so that nothing but a carpet of green turf was wanting to complete
the resemblance to an English park. On reaching the _kasbah_,
we found that our arrival was already expected. Our former host,
the Governor’s corpulent son, had two rooms within the castle
walls prepared for our reception, and before one o’clock we
were installed in clean quarters, with iron bedsteads of European
make, and cushions covered with Rabat carpets to complete the
furniture. Soon after two o’clock notice of Mr. Carstensen’s
approach reached the castle; the Governor’s son, with several armed
men, went forth to meet him, and before long we had the pleasure
of again greeting a gentleman to whose activity and thoughtful care
we felt so much indebted.
Much of the afternoon was naturally employed in giving an account
of our doings. When we reached the close of the story, and Hooker
spoke of his morning’s interview with the aged Governor, in
whose stronghold we were lodged, and the favourable impression
made by his appearance and demeanour, the reply was somewhat
startling even to men who had learned something of the manners of
the country. ‘Yes,’ said Mr. Carstensen, ‘he is a fine-looking
fellow, but he is not much better than other men of his class. Last
year he poisoned two friends of mine under very discreditable
circumstances.’ The victims were men of consequence, near kinsmen
of the Governor, and supposed to have much influence among the
Shedma people who resided in Mogador. Early in the preceding year
they were induced by hospitable messages to pay a visit to their
powerful relative. Familiar with the ways of Marocco, and feeling
sure that his friends were objects of jealousy and suspicion to
the great man, Mr. Carstensen at once wrote an urgent letter,
in which he expressed his strong anxiety for the safety of the
visitors. He soon received a reply written in the most reassuring
terms: ‘Far be it from me,’ wrote the Governor, ‘to harm
these men; I shall take every care of them, and cherish them as
if they were my own children.’ A few weeks later another letter
reached Mogador: ‘Nothing could exceed the Governor’s grief at
having to announce that one of his guests had been taken suddenly
ill, and soon after died. Such, however, was the decree of Allah,
and we must all be resigned to his will.’ Mr. Carstensen was
not surprised when, a little later, another letter reached him,
conveying in nearly the same terms an account of the death of the
second guest. He had no doubt of foul play having been used; but
some months later received further assurance, when, on taxing the
Governor’s son (our fat friend) with his suspicions, the latter
answered: ‘Well, the fact is that my papa did not know what to
do with them, so he had them poisoned.’
It seems strange at the present day to find so near to Europe a
condition of society in some respects so like that of Italy in
the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, wherein no deed of atrocity
committed by men in authority awakens the slightest feeling of moral
reprobation. In the present instance local ideas had so far prevailed
that Mr. Carstensen did not consider it expedient to allow what
had occurred to interrupt his amicable relations with the Governor.
To lessen our regret for having failed to see something of the
western extremity of the Great Atlas, Mr. Carstensen proposed that we
should visit the Djebel Hadid, or Iron Mountain, a range of hills,
about 2,000 feet in height, that approaches the sea about fourteen
miles NE. of Mogador, and extends inland in a NE. direction for a
distance of some five-and-twenty miles. So far as we knew, this had
not been visited by any European naturalist except M. Balansa, and we
willingly accepted the suggestion, and, following Mr. Carstensen’s
advice, arranged to fix our camp next day at Aïn el Hadjar, a
spot where some copious springs burst forth at the SW. extremity
of the range.
The forenoon of June 1 was spent in the _kasbah_, and in a short
ramble on the adjoining slopes. The appearance of the country
was much altered since we had passed here at the end of April. The
spring vegetation was then far advanced, and many annuals had ripened
their seeds; but, thanks to the rain which had fallen at intervals
during May, a new crop of young plants had sprung up; and during
this and the following days we were able to gather several species
in flower that we had before seen only in fruit. The fields where,
at our last visit, the corn was being cut, had been ploughed up,
and pumpkins had been extensively sown round the _kasbah_. There was
more appearance of a taste for ornamental plants than we had seen
anywhere among the Moors. The Governor had transactions with many of
the foreign merchants at Mogador, and in that way had no difficulty
in obtaining seeds or cuttings of many garden flowers. Amongst these
we noted roses, pinks, garden-stock, geraniums, dahlias, _Tagetes_,
and _Coreopsis_. Oranges and bananas were also cultivated; but
it seemed doubtful whether in ordinary seasons the climate is
suitable. The spring rains had recently extended over a wide tract
of country, but they seem to be more often limited to the zone
surrounding the higher mountains.
Among other articles intended for presents, Ball had picked up in
London a large Highland brooch, with a yellow cairngorm crystal set
in silver. This, with an opera-glass, was given to the Governor’s
son as we took leave of him. The use of gold or silver and jewels
for personal adornment is forbidden by law or custom to Moorish men;
and the gift, which was sure to be transferred to a favourite wife,
did not seem to be much appreciated.
About mid-day we started for our short day’s ride, forming, with
Mr. Carstensen and his suite, a numerous cavalcade. Our course lay
about WNW., over low undulating hills, dotted with Argan trees. Most
of the surface was under cultivation, and appeared to be moderately
fertile. At 2.30 P.M. we reached an olive grove near to a _zaouia_
or sanctuary, called El Masaats. Close to this was a dwelling,
on a larger scale than is common in this country, belonging to
a man of some substance, with whom Mr. Carstensen had friendly
relations. It would have been impossible to pass his home without
a visit, and equally impossible, according to local ideas, for him
to neglect the rites of hospitality. Luncheon for the entire party
was speedily provided, and, while assisting as spectators at the
lively conversation, we once more had to admire Mr. Carstensen’s
perfect command of the native dialect.
As we sat under the trees several parties of natives, dressed in
their best, passed by on their way to the adjoining _zaouia_. This
was the anniversary of the death of the local saint buried at
the sanctuary; and on such occasions the people of this country,
whether Moor or Shelluh, do not fail to resort to the sacred
spot. For the great majority the occasion seems to be no more
than a welcome opportunity for breaking the monotony of their
daily life. Excepting our Mogador Kaïd, who was most exact in the
performance of his devotions, we saw little indication throughout
our journey of regular compliance with the injunctions for daily
prayer, so strictly observed in most Mohammedan countries.
After resuming our route we soon found evidence that we were entering
upon a new botanical region—that of the Atlantic coast. Besides
numerous species not seen since we had left Mogador at the end
of April, we here found for the first time several conspicuous
plants characteristic of this region. In hedges, and among bushes,
a tall _Bupleurum_ (_B. canescens_ of Schousboe) grew to a height of
eight or ten feet, and in similar situations _Periploca lævigata_
was just forming its fruit.
The facts known as to the distribution of the last-named plant,
and the allied species, _Periploca græca_, suggest speculations as
to their past history that deserve some passing notice. The genus
_Periploca_, which takes its name from the twining stems of the
species first known to botanists, has its centre in the sub-tropical
zone of the Asiatic continent. The single mainly western species
is _Periploca lævigata_. This appears to be common in the Canary
Islands, and grows freely in the tract now visited by us to the
north-west of Mogador. It has been found in abundance on some rocky
islands near the coast ot Sicily; but, in spite of the silky hairs
attached to the seeds, it has not spread itself to neighbouring
islands, nor to the Sicilian coast. It has been detected in two
or three places in the south-east of Spain, and here and there in
rocky places on the skirts of the desert in the interior of Algeria
and Tunis. Finally, it was long ago found by Labillardière in one
place on the coast of Syria. All this points to the former wide
diffusion of a plant which no longer finds favourable conditions of
existence, unless, perhaps, in the Canary Islands. Its presence in
the interior of North Africa may possibly date from the period when
it grew near the coast of a great gulf opening to the Atlantic;
but it is not easy to understand how it has held its ground in a
climate so different from that of its natural home. This plant has
inherited from a remote ancestor a habit which is now of no service
to it. The young branches near the root twine round any adjacent
support; but as they grow older they become stiff and straight, and
the taller specimens derive no adventitious support from this source.
The history of _Periploca græca_, the only species known to the
older botanists, is somewhat different. It is rather common in
Georgia, and in parts of Persia and Asia Minor. Less common in
Greece, it becomes extremely rare to the west of that limit, being
found only in Montenegro, at one place in Dalmatia, at another in
South-eastern Italy near Otranto, and, finally, in the pine-woods
on the Tuscan coast near Pisa. These facts indicate the former
wider extension of the species towards the west, and its gradual
retreat towards its primitive home in Asia. But we have more direct
evidence to that effect. The prints of leaves unmistakably belonging
to this species are not uncommon in the quaternary deposits of the
valley of the Arno. It may probably have flourished in thickets on
the Monte Pisano, and on the Monte Nero near Leghorn, when these
were islands in a tertiary sea, and gradually descended towards the
Mediterranean as the coast line was advanced by a change of level,
and by the formation of the deltas of the Arno and the Serchio.
Another conspicuous plant, now seen for the first time, was
_Odontospermum odorum_ (_Asteriscus_ of De Candolle), forming a
dense dwarf bush, about two feet high. The whole plant gives out
an agreeable scent; but, except in this respect, and in having the
leaves covered with white silky hairs, it differs very little from
_0. graveolens_, a characteristic species of the desert region,
remarkable for its offensive smell. The sweet-smelling species had
been hitherto found only in the Mogador district, and in the Canary
Islands; but it was afterwards gathered by us near Saffi.
We reached our destination at about 5.30 P.M., and were agreeably
surprised at the verdure and freshness of the spot. Our camp was
pitched among large olive trees, near to the stream flowing from
the principal spring. The position somewhat resembles that of the
so-called fountain of Elias near Jericho, well known to travellers
in Palestine; but the contrast offered by the vegetation was
remarkable. If a few plants close to the stream appear to thrive
about the waters of Elias, the surrounding vegetation is meagre,
and amid the straggling bushes of exotic aspect that surround the
spot the traveller seeks in vain for effectual protection from
the sun. Here, besides the gigantic olive trees that must have
been planted at a remote period, the white poplar grows to a great
size, and wild herbaceous plants were still green, many of them in
flower as well as fruit, at this advanced season. At a time when
the summer heat has become intolerable at most places in North
Africa the thermometer in our tents stood at about 70° F. an hour
before sunset, and the nights were even cooler than some might have
wished. Something was no doubt due to the unusual amount of rain that
had fallen during the month of May; but if the climate of the coast
region of South Marocco were altered so as to resemble that of other
places in the same latitude, much of the existing vegetation would
soon disappear. On dry sandy slopes above our camp the effects of
the late rains were plainly seen, and before nightfall we collected
a considerable number of annual species in flower, sprung from seeds
borne by the first crop, and ripened two or three months before.
We did not visit the remains of ancient miners’ work that are
visible at several places about the base of the hill; but we found
scoriæ in abundance, and some fragments of the ironstone from which
the mountain takes its name. It is not easy to conjecture the date
at which these iron mines can have been worked. There is no reason
to believe that any Moorish ruler ever attempted to turn them to
account; and although the Portuguese once built a small fort near
Mogador, it does not seem probable that they ever held control
over the adjoining country. As to the long interval between the
establishment of Roman power in North Marocco and the disappearance
of Roman civilisation after the Saracen conquest history is silent,
and it would be as unsafe to assert as to deny that the workings of
Djebel Hadid are to be referred to that epoch. The only apparent
alternative is to attribute them to a still more remote period,
when Carthaginian colonies flourished on the coast.
In connection with this subject it is curious to remark that Leo
Africanus, in his account of the hilly range of the Djebel Hadid,
makes no allusion to the working of the mines there, although his
work contains frequent reference to the extraction of metals, not
excepting iron, from mines in the Great Atlas. In his day the Djebel
Hadid seems to have had a rather numerous population of Bereber
stock. He describes them as of gentle and inoffensive manners, who
expelled from among them men guilty of robbery and violence. They
had been much molested by the Arabs of the neighbouring plains,
and had agreed to purchase tranquillity by the payment of black
mail in the form of tribute, when the reigning Sultan, whose policy
it was to protect and favour the Bereber population, despatched a
military force (which Leo Africanus himself accompanied), brought
the Arabs to order, and relieved the Berebers from tribute. At
the present day the Shelluh stock has apparently disappeared from
this part of the country, being either driven away, or absorbed by
inter-marriage into the surrounding Arab population.
A young man, the son of one of the wealthiest Jews in Mogador,
had been invited by Mr. Carstensen to accompany him in this
excursion. He was absolutely ignorant of the country beyond what
he may have learned in a daily canter over the sands at Mogador,
and was far less fitted for rough life than the majority of English
young ladies of the upper class. Everything in tent life seemed to
him strange and rather terrible. In the course of conversation over
the evening cigar it came out that he had never seen a scorpion;
whereupon, by order from Mr. Carstensen, a corner of the carpet
within the tent was turned up, and a scorpion-hole speedily
found. When the ugly creature was dug out of his hole and produced
to the company, the genuine consternation and disgust of our young
friend were irresistibly ludicrous. We afterwards heard that he
passed a miserable night, in constant terror of encountering the
enemy, and on the next day returned to the paternal home, whence
he will not again be easily lured.
The natives show no especial dislike for reptiles, excepting
poisonous snakes, which, in spite of reports to the contrary, must
be rare. We heard so much of them, and especially of the _Cerastes_
(_El Efah_ of the Moors)—popularly called the ‘two minutes’
snake,’ because a person bitten is supposed to survive so
long—that at first we always carried about us a bottle of liquid
ammonia, as the best, though very uncertain, antidote. But when
we failed to see a single specimen, and were assured that they are
found only on the coast, we gradually laid all precautions aside,
and thought no more of serpents than we should have done in Europe.
About this time we discovered that one of our escort had a decided
taste for reptiles, which we might have turned to account, if we had
known of it, by getting him to collect specimens. He was a tall,
lanky man, with a prominent nose, whom we had nicknamed, from his
peculiar personal appearance, ‘Don Quixote,’ but whose real
name was Sherrif Mouley Mohammed. He had captured several toads
and lizards, which he carried about with him, and showed another
trait of originality in being the only one of our native followers
who willingly drank coffee.
The morning of June 2 was brilliantly fine, and the sun remained
unclouded throughout the day, although the heat was at no time
oppressive. At 9.30 A.M. we started for the ascent of the Djebel
Hadid, directing our course towards a hollow in the face of the
hill, for the most part thickly clothed with bushes, but showing
here and there outcropping escarpments of rock that promised a more
varied vegetation than the otherwise uniform stony slopes. We at
once found that, in comparison with the outer slopes of the Atlas,
we had entered into a region botanically new to us. The evergreen oak
had disappeared, and the Arbutus, though seen near Aïn el Hadjar,
was evidently rare. The _Callitris_, which is abundant near the
base of the hill, does not ascend on its flanks, and _Juniperus
phœnicea_ was either altogether absent or very rare. In the place
of all these there was an extraordinary abundance and variety of
spiny bushes, such as made the day’s excursion severely remembered
by the destruction of our garments and the multitude of pricks and
scratches with which our bodies were covered. _Rhus oxyacantha_
and _R. pentaphylla_, _Celastrus senegalensis_ and the wild olive,
with _Genista ferox_ and _G. tridens_, were our chief tormentors,
all, except the olive, characteristic North African species, though
two or three of them have been detected in Southern Spain or in
Sicily. Leaving our horses to be led up the slope, we had hot work
in climbing the hill under a sun only a few degrees from the zenith,
contending the while with the various thorns and hooks and prickles
that molested us on every side. Every forward movement would be
resisted by a dozen spines running deep into our legs or arms, and
each attempt to draw back by the strong hooks with which some part
of our dress was sure to be held fast. When we reached the top of
the acclivity we found ourselves on the verge of a very extensive
plateau, in some parts nearly dead level, in others undulating,
and rising into knolls of tolerably uniform height. Before long we
reached a point commanding a wide view over the country on the north
side of the range of hills. The slopes below us appeared to be under
cultivation, and suggested the presence of a numerous population;
but the distant plain of Akermout, lying somewhat east of due north,
did not to our eyes afford any sign of cultivation. Jackson gives
a view[3] of the Djebel Hadid as seen from the plain of Akermout,
with a ruined town in the foreground, which he declares to have
been utterly destroyed by the plague about the middle of the last
century. The ruins, which have been seen by other travellers,
being about 30 miles distant from Mogador and fully 15 from the
point where we stood, were naturally not perceived by us.
Along the range of these hills are many saints’ tombs, usually
standing on some prominent point above the general level of the
plateau. One of these was on a slight eminence somewhat higher than
that first reached by us. Our escort, on this occasion limited to
three soldiers, displayed great anxiety lest we should attempt to
enter the _zaouia_, doubtless believing that our presence would
profane the sanctity of the spot.
We strained our eyes to make out as much as possible of the Great
Atlas range from the vantage ground we had now attained; but the
air was hazy towards the southern horizon. A faint outline was,
indeed, distinctly traceable, and was sketched by Ball, but no
details of any kind could be distinguished.
We estimated the height of the hilly range, where we ascended it,
at about 1,500 feet above our camp at Aïn el Hadjar, which we had
found to be 504 feet above the sea-level. It is not likely that
any part of the Djebel Hadid much exceeds the limit of 2,000 feet
above the sea, but, in a range fully 25 miles in length, it is not
possible to compare altitudes accurately by the eye.
The _Cistus_ tribe was the chief ornament of the vegetation
here; and it was interesting to observe that the species were
to a great extent different from those that abound in the
inland districts and on the lower slopes of the Atlas. _Cistus
salviæfolius_ and _C. polymorphus_, both variable species,
are common to this and the Atlas, although, strange to say, the
latter widely-spread Mediterranean species has not been found in
North Marocco. _Helianthemum virgatum_, hitherto seen everywhere
on dry stony ground, was here wanting, as were _H. niloticum_ and
the less common _H. glaucum_ and _H. rubellum_. In their places
the top of the hill was in some places quite covered by large
bushes of _H. halimifolium_ and _H. lavandulæfolium_, both laden
with masses of bright yellow flowers. On the slopes we also found
_H. canariense_, one of the very few species, not strictly confined
to the coast, that are exclusively limited to the Canary Islands and
South Marocco. Another rare species of the same genus, now first
seen by us, was _H. Lippii_. This seems to have been originally
a desert plant, the sole representative of the genus in the arid
regions of Beloochistan, South Persia, and the Arabian desert,
whence it has spread westward through Egypt to the skirts of the
Sahara. Beyond its natural home, it has been found here and there,
but rarely in Syria, Asia Minor, Sicily, and South-western Marocco,
and may not improbably be detected in South-eastern Spain.
Growing among the bushes on the upper part of the hill we found,
in some abundance, the wild spiny form of the cultivated artichoke;
whether truly indigenous, or carried hither by former inhabitants,
it was impossible to decide.
On returning to our camp, some time before sunset, we found
that Mr. Carstensen had received letters from Europe that bore
intelligence of the terrible scenes enacted in Paris during the last
days of the Commune and the final suppression of the insurrection. As
was but natural, this completely engrossed our thoughts and our
conversation during the evening. It was depressing to think that
in the midst of the so-called advanced civilisation of Europe,
to which we were now returning, ferocious passions, surpassing in
their destructiveness those of the barbarian or the mere savage,
may lie concealed until some unexpected shock causes their explosion.
The night was even cooler than the preceding one, and to our surprise
the thermometer, about a quarter of an hour after sunrise on June 3,
marked only 56° F. We employed a couple of hours in the morning in
rambling about the gardens and irrigated ground near the springs,
without adding much of interest to our collections, and at about
8 P.M. started for Mogador.
For some distance the country was well wooded. Orchards and olive
groves did not extend much beyond the bounds of the irrigated
tract; the _Callitris_ then became predominant, intermixed, here
and there, with scattered Argan trees. In open spots the two showy
species of _Helianthemum_ seen the day before, _H. halimifolium_ and
_H. lavandulæfolium_, were still in full flower, and we gathered,
for the first time, a charming little _Eryngium_ (_E. tenue_)
with extremely delicate spiny leaves and involucre. Mediterranean
shrubs, such as the _Arbutus_ and _Phillyrea_, growing along with
such local forms as _Rhus oxyacantha_, _Statice mucronata_, and
_Bupleurum canescens_, would have sufficiently informed a botanist
that he was approaching the Atlantic coast of North Africa.
We soon after crossed a belt of land showing marks of former
cultivation, where no dwellings were in sight, but where we
passed close to a considerable group of earthy mounds, partly
overgrown by vegetation, and showing here and there the remains of
massive walls of _tapia_ that had partially resisted the process
of destruction. These ruins marked the site of the large _kasbah_
of a former Governor. According to the custom of the country this
had been pillaged and destroyed some thirty years before, when the
owner fell from power. The traces of man’s former presence were
speedily lost as we entered on a tract of rocky ground, where the
tertiary calcareous rock lay in horizontal beds, slightly excavated
in places by watercourses, and cut into irregular steps. The
increasing prevalence of blown sand now gave warning of a nearer
approach to the shore; the distant roar of the ceaseless Atlantic
breakers fell distinctly on the ear; amid the increasing masses
of sand vegetation became more and more sparse; we rode on amidst
undulating dunes of sand until, at length, on reaching the summit
of one of the ridges, the blue Atlantic lay before us.
With mingled feelings we cast our eyes on the waters that were
so soon to carry us back within the accustomed round of civilised
existence. If the prospect before us were in many ways most welcome,
there was yet some inevitable regret at the termination of a
journey so full of interest, and, in spite of trifling drawbacks,
so full of enjoyment. We felt that the time at our disposal had
been too limited, and that what we had accomplished in the way
of exploration fell far short of what we had expected; but enough
had been done to reward us amply for the labour expended, and we
indulged, as almost all genuine travellers are wont to do, in the
hope of returning again to the country we were now about to leave.
We had reached the shore at a point about five miles north of
Mogador, which, however, was concealed from view by the lofty sand
dunes that have accumulated on the reef of rocks that stretches
out seaward on the north side of the town. For more than half the
distance we rode along the flat beach, where the sand gave somewhat
firmer footing than it did above high water mark. Our soldiers took
the opportunity for celebrating the prosperous termination of our
journey by an exhibition of ‘powder-play,’ for which the ground
was admirably adapted. Starting together, but not attempting to
keep line, they urge their horses to their fastest gallop; while
at full speed they discharge their long guns at an imaginary foe,
fling the gun up in the air, and catch it again; and finally the
horse is stopped short, and thrown upon his haunches, by the sudden
pressure of the severe bit used in this country.
To avoid a long detour our course to Mogador lay over the high
sand dunes that encompass the town on the land side. The forms
into which the sand is fashioned by the wind here attracted our
attention. In many places the appearances were exactly those that
are found in the higher region of the Alps immediately after a fall
of fresh snow, and in truth the phenomena are nearly identical. At
a temperature considerably below freezing point snow commonly falls
in the condition of fine grains that do not cohere when they meet,
and, in a mechanical sense, differ from those of sand only by being
lighter. Our observations on the relation between the form of the
larger ridges and the smaller ripple marks, and the direction of
the wind, quite agree with those published by Maw.[4]
When at length we escaped from the maze of ridges and hollows,
and stood upon the brow of the last sandy eminence, rather before
2 P.M., we found ourselves unexpectedly near to our journey’s
end. The town of Mogador, backed by the island, with a few small
coasting vessels lying in the channel between them, presented to our
unaccustomed eyes an almost imposing aspect. As usual, one of the
soldiers had ridden ahead to announce our approach; and when, after
passing by the Christian burial-ground, we drew near to the walls,
crowds of people came out to meet us, and to gaze upon the strangers,
of whose adventures in the Great Atlas fanciful reports had gone
abroad. At the gate several mounted soldiers, sent by the Governor
as a guard of honour, joined the procession; and thus heralded,
with all due state, we made our solemn entry into Mogador, and,
along with our kind host, rode directly to the British Consulate.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1:
Τούτων δὲ καθύπερθεν Αἰθίοπες ᾤκουν
ἄξενοι γῆν νεμόμενοι θηριώδη, διειλημμένην
ἴ ρεσι μεγάλοις, ἐξ ὧν ῥεῖν φασι τὸν
Αίξον, περὶ δὲ τὰ ὄρη κατοικεῖν ἀνθρώπους
ἀλλοιομόρφους, Τρωγλοδύτας· οὓς
ταχυτέρους ἵππων ἐν δρόμοις
ἔφραζον οἱ Αιξίται.
Hanno ‘Periplus,’ 7. Text of C. Müller.
Contrary to the opinion of most commentators, we are disposed to
think that the river Lixus of Hanno is the Sous. The description,
‘a large river of Libya, said to flow from the great mountains,’
must refer either to the Sous or the Draha; but it is not likely
that at any period there can have been a considerable population
about the mouth of the Draha, as there evidently was at the place
commemorated by Hanno.]
[Footnote 2: M. Balansa gives for the height in round numbers 1,100
metres, or 3,609 English feet.]
[Footnote 3: Like the other illustrations in Jackson’s work, this
must be derived from a very imperfect sketch, or else much altered
by the fancy of the draftsman. In this the great city shown in the
background is a mere fiction of the imagination.]
[Footnote 4: See _Quarterly Journal of the Geological Society_,
vol. xxviii. p. 88.]