CHAPTER XX

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ASCENT OF THE ATLAS MOUNTAINS.

After his return from the Mission to Marákesh, which has been described in the previous chapter, Sir John, writing to Sir Henry Layard on May 24, 1873, gives an epitome of his labours at the Court, and refers to the expeditions undertaken to the Atlas Mountains during his travels.

‘We returned,’ he says, ‘from our travels on the 8th inst. in better health than when we started. The weather was cool, and no rain fell to stop our march except on one day.

‘I had no instructions from the Foreign Office except to deliver my new credentials; but I took advantage, of course, of my visit to the Court to place our relations on a better footing, and I flatter myself I have succeeded, as I have settled, or put in the proper groove for settlement, a host of pending claims and grievances.

‘Tissot was at the Court at the same time as myself, and we marched hand in hand in all questions affecting common interests, or, as Tissot described the position of the Moorish Government, like that of a wild boar with a hound hanging on each ear. The Moors were astonished to find the French and British Representatives in perfect union and showing no signs of petty jealousy about etiquette in forms; in fact, we took our precautions of warning Moorish and _our own_ officials that we insisted upon no attention being shown or form observed to one or the other which differed.

‘The Sultan and his Ministers were most courteous and hospitable. Nothing could be more pleasing than His Majesty’s manner and language to myself in a private audience. He conversed with great good sense, but he declared his policy to be _conservative_ in the strictest sense of the word.

‘In reply to the proposals made by Tissot and myself for various reforms and improvements, His Majesty said to me, “We and thou understand very well that all you suggest is very excellent, and might be most beneficial in developing the resources of our dominions; but the eminent men (Ulama, &c.) do not desire that we should introduce the innovations of Europe into this land, nor conform ourselves with Christian usages. We made certain promises on our accession to the throne, and unless my councillors alter their views, we cannot, without endangering our position.” When I alluded to Turkey and Egypt, he intimated that those Governments had no doubt increased in power and wealth, but that their independence was shaken.

‘Tissot received a telegram from his Government regarding some frontier conflict near Taza, stating that a large force had been sent by the Governor of Algeria to enter Morocco and chastise the predatory tribes. Thiers stopped the march of the force, until Tissot could be referred to. He has arranged all matters satisfactorily with the Sultan, to whom he brought the “Grand Cordon of the Legion of Honour.” . . .

‘Whilst the Sultan was digesting my memoranda on various affairs, we made an expedition to the slopes of the Atlas. My son reached the snow, but was obliged to beat a rapid retreat, as the mountaineers were in revolt against the Sultan. The Shloh tribes of the Atlas, who were submissive to the Sultan, were most kind and hospitable to us. They gave us all a hearty welcome, and I was delighted on finding that I was known to all these wild fellows as being a friend to the Moors and “a just man.” The valleys of the Atlas are very beautiful and fertile. The inhabitants live in two-storied houses, something like the Swiss, only very rude in form. They are a far superior race to their conquerors, the Arabs.’

As this letter shows, the hope which Sir John had entertained of returning with the Mission through the Atlas mountains and thence to Mogador was not completely fulfilled, as a rising of the tribes in that district rendered the expedition unsafe. Sid Musa however suggested that before leaving Marákesh, an expedition of a few days might be organised to visit ‘Uríka,’ on the slope of the Atlas nearest to the city. This was arranged, and on the morning of April 17 the party left Marákesh by the beautiful Bab el Mahsen, or Government gate, the fine old arch of which, built of red stone engraved with Arabic inscriptions, is said to have been brought by the Moors from Spain,—an improbable legend founded on the fact that Jeber was the architect. The narrative is given from Miss Hay’s Diary.

‘As we passed the Sultan’s palace, which, by the way, is said to contain a female population amounting to a thousand women (of all colours!), the standard-bearer lowered the banner as a mark of respect. This salute was also accorded when passing the tombs of “saléhin,” or holy men.

‘On this trip, as also on the subsequent return journey to Mogador, the usual red banner that precedes an envoy was replaced by a green one. This latter is the emblem of the Sultan’s spiritual authority, and there was a peculiar significance and compliment in its being sent to precede the Representative of Great Britain and of a Christian Sovereign. The Sultan also sent his own stirrup-holder, a fine old Bokhári, to attend Sir John, as he would his Royal Master, an office which the noble old man punctiliously fulfilled. He was always near Sir John’s person, prepared to alight and hold his stirrup when required, as he was wont to do for the Sultan. The old man had many a quaint tale to relate, and Sir John would sometimes summon him to his side and encourage him to talk of his recollections and experiences.

‘The valley of the Atlas, whither we were bound, was in sight due South. Our way at first lay across the plain and along the line of deep and dangerous pits that mark the track of the aqueduct which supplies Marákesh with water, said to come from the hills thirty miles distant. These pits are about twenty feet in diameter and of equal depth, and one of our party had a narrow escape one day, during a wild and general race across the plain, riding nearly directly into one of these chasms concealed by long grass. Fortunately the clever little Barb swerved, and, jumping, cleared the pit to one side.

‘Tradition states that formerly, in remote times, an aqueduct brought water underground direct from the Atlas to the city. This became blocked and damaged, but could not be repaired or cleared owing to its great depth below the surface. Therefore one of the ancient rulers, to collect the water it supplied, made great wells or reservoirs some fifteen miles from Marákesh, and closed all the fountains and springs in their vicinity. From these the present water supply was brought to the city, and originally flowed in through four hundred canals or aqueducts. These, Arabian historians relate, were the work of 20,000 Christian captives.

‘The greater extent of the plain was in grass, studded with thorny “sidder” bushes; but some crops of barley and beans looked flourishing, and here and there, where irrigation had been attempted by means of watercourses from the river “Ghemáts” vegetation was luxuriant beneath olive and other fruit-trees.

‘At about 4 p.m. the country assumed a more pleasing aspect as we passed the villages of the Shloh tribe of Mesfíwa. These Shloh, like the natives of Sus and Rif, are all of Berber race. Neither Phœnicians, Goths, Romans nor Arabs ever succeeded in bringing them completely under subjection, for they retreated before the conquerors to the mountains, and in these highland fastnesses maintained their independence. With the exception of a few tribes they owe no political allegiance to the Sultan, but acknowledge his spiritual suzerainty as the recognised head of the Mohammedan religion in Morocco, in virtue of his direct descent from the Prophet. They altogether differ in appearance from the Arabs, and no affinity can be traced between the Berber and the Arabic languages, excepting in words connected with the Mohammedan religion which were introduced when the Berbers adopted the creed of Islam. In place of tents the Shloh live in houses, of one or two stories, built of mud and stone without mortar, the earth of this district having the peculiar quality, when well beaten down, of being impermeable.

‘Learned writers have disputed the origin of the Berbers, but they seem to agree that they are not the aborigines of the country, but displaced another and more ancient race of inhabitants. One of the traditions of the Berbers is that their ancestors were driven out of Syria by the “Khalífa” of “Sidna Musa” (“our Lord Moses”), meaning Joshua, the lieutenant of Moses. Their country in the South of Morocco is called generally “Sus,” and the manner of their expulsion is related in yet another legend quoted from a commentary on the Koran.

‘God said unto David, “Banish the Beraber out of this land, for if they dwelt in hills of iron they would break them down.” Whereupon, says the story, King David placed the people on camels, in sacks called “gharaiar,” and sent them away. When they arrived at the Atlantic coast their leader called out, in the Berber tongue, “Sus”—which means let down, or empty out—so the exiles were canted out of their sacks, and the country is thence called “Sus” to this day!

‘Many of the Shloh proper names appear to have an affinity to the Hebrew, if not actually of Hebraic origin, such as Ait Usi, Ait Atta, Ait Emor, Ait Sisac, Ait Braim. The Hebrew equivalent of the first three being Hait Busi, in our translation the Jebusites, Ha Hitti, the Hittites. Ha Emori, the Amorites. Ait Sisac may be translated “Those of Isaac,” or The children of laughter. Ait Braim needs no translation.

‘On our entry into Mesfíwa we were surprised to find signs of much more industry, and even of civilisation, than in the districts inhabited by the Arab population. Here irrigation was carefully attended to; the numerous plantations of olive and fruit-trees, as well as the fields of grain, were better cultivated; and the condition of the bridle roads and rude bridges over the streams afforded further proof of a more intelligent and industrious people.

‘Ascending the slopes we reached the camp pitched in an olive-grove on a small island formed by the Ghemáts, here called the “Dad i Sirr,” evidently its Berber name. We crossed with some difficulty this mountain torrent, which foamed and swirled up to the horses’ girths. Flowing down a gorge of the Atlas running nearly North and South, this river then takes a north-westerly direction till it joins the Tensift, which again flows into the Atlantic near Saffi.

‘On the side of a hill, about four hundred yards from the site of the camp, lay the village Akhlij, crowned by a castle built of red stone and earth, and having five square bastions with loopholes for musketry. In fact every house in these villages can be used as a little fort, the walls being pierced so that each householder can defend himself against his neighbour, or all can combine and act against an invader of their stronghold. The population of Akhlij is said to be about 500 souls, including some forty Jews, each Jewish family, according to the custom of the Shloh, being under the special protection of a Mohammedan chieftain.

‘Above the spot where we were encamped rose the mountain of Zinat Kar, the summit dotted with patches of snow, and, towering over all, the snowy heights of “Glaui” frowned upon the groves of palms, oranges and olives which spread below basking in the sultry temperature of the plains.

‘On our arrival in camp the Sheikh and elders of the village presented themselves, by order of the Sultan, to welcome the “Bashador.” The Sheikh, a tall man, was draped in a long, seamless “haik;” but some of his followers wore a black burnous similar to those in use among the Jews of Marákesh. The meeting took place under the British flag—hoisted for the first time in these wild regions—before Sir John’s tent. In the evening the deputation returned, bringing an abundant supply of provisions and forage, and, in addition, huge dishes of cooked food for the soldiers and camp-followers. This “mona” was collected from the whole province under the rule of Basha Grenog, comprising some fifteen “kabail,” or tribes, spread over a district about fifty miles in diameter. The tax therefore fell lightly on the inhabitants, not amounting to more perhaps than a half-penny a family, which sum would be deducted from the payment of their annual taxes.

‘This spot in the valley of Uríka, at the foot of the Atlas, is about 500 feet above Marákesh and 2,000 feet above sea-level, and the fine air was most enjoyable. The night appeared cold, the temperature falling below 60° Fahr. At midday it was 74° in the shade.

‘There were contradictory statements as to the sport to be expected. But, after much cross-questioning, the natives confessed that there were no wild boar nearer than the snow; that the “audad[48],” or wild sheep, was to be found, but only on the highest hills a couple of hours’ ride distant; and that lions and leopards were not to be seen within two days’ march, or about thirty miles further among the snowy ranges. On inquiry whether there were any fish in the river, we were told that, later in the season, a speckled fish about nine or ten inches long comes up from the Tensift. This no doubt is the trout, which is found also in the mountain streams near Tetuan. On asking the Berber name for large river fish, Sir John was surprised to hear that it is “selmen,” which would appear to be a cognate word to our “salmon.”’

The account of the ascent of the Atlas which follows is chiefly compiled from notes written at the time by Mr. Drummond Hay, who accompanied the Mission, and who, with one companion, succeeded in scaling the heights and reaching the snow. An earlier ascent, but not to so high a point, was made in 1829 by Mr. E. W. A. Drummond Hay, Sir John’s father. Other travellers have visited the Atlas, both before and since Sir John; but no Representative of a Foreign Power, it is believed, had ever yet done so, openly and with the good-will of the Sultan.

‘_May 18._ After breakfast all the party, ladies included, mounted their horses. The son of the Sheikh, a fine handsome fellow, riding a splendid black horse, led the way up the valley of Uríka, and we rode along the banks of the torrent. On each side of the gorge rose conical hills clothed with “el aris[49],” the scented “arrar[49],” and the lentiscus or wild pistachio. The olive, walnut, orange, apricot and vine were also abundant.

‘We travelled along a path on the steep river bank, sometimes so narrow that, if a horse had made a false step, the rider might have been precipitated into the torrent which foamed below. But as we advanced the road improved, and showed signs of some knowledge of road-making and of great care on the part of the inhabitants. Here and there it was mended with wood and stones; the large boulders were cleared from the path and built up as walls on either side; and, where a torrent crossed the way, there was a rude bridge of one or more arches, composed of trees and branches cemented with mud and stone. Below us flowed the river, now turbulent and shallow in its wide bed. By the banks grew numbers of trees which resembled silver poplars, the timber of which is used in the construction of their houses by the mountaineers. Their delicate foliage contrasted pleasantly on the mountain side with the sombre green of the “arrar” and “aris,” which here do not seem to attain so great a height as they do in the Rif country. Mingled with them grow the karob, or locust-tree, and the mountain ash. Numbers of wild flowers filled the hedges that hemmed in the fields or grew by the wayside; among them we recognised many English friends. There were also several flowers new to us, particularly a lovely species of broom bearing a brilliant violet blossom with an orange centre, and another pretty, highly-scented, yellow flower all declared must be a wild jasmine, so closely did it resemble the garden variety.

‘Villages were to be seen on both sides of the gorge, and one of them saluted us with a _feu de joie_ of musketry. After a gentle ascent of an hour and a half we arrived at a pretty grove of olives. Here the Sheikh insisted upon our dismounting, as he said the villagers desired to welcome our party by giving us a feast. It was in vain the “Bashador” explained that we desired to push, as far as we could ride, up the mountains. After waiting an hour, as no food appeared, he gained his point and we were allowed to re-mount. But, to our great dismay, just at the moment of moving off, arrived some forty villagers, every one of whom carried on his head a huge earthen platter, containing several dishes of meat and “siksu”; each dish holding sufficient to satisfy ten hungry hunters. Having explained to these hospitable people that we had only just had our morning repast and were most anxious to sharpen our appetites by a ride up the mountain before consuming the feast, we were allowed to depart in peace—though a solemn promise was first exacted that we would return without fail in the evening to accept their prodigal hospitality. We then continued the gradual ascent, passing through villages the houses of which recalled in some degree the _chalets_ in Switzerland, though these were of very rude form. Many of them had overhanging eaves and open galleries on the second story, where the inmates could sit and enjoy the air and scenery, sheltered from sun or weather. Some of the houses were decorated with patterns on the wall below the roof, picked out in crossed lines such as are seen in old buildings in some parts of England and Germany. But in this instance the lines were white on the dull background of red earth with which these houses are built.

‘The population—men, women, and children—turned out to gaze at us. But neither by word, look, or gesture was there any demonstration of fanatical or hostile feeling. The villagers seemed rather to consider our advent to be the occasion for a holiday. A petition was sent to the “Bashador” by the boys of a school that their teacher should be asked to grant them a holiday to behold the English. A few silver coins to the pedagogue and the request of the “Bashador” set all the boys at liberty, and thus the rising generation of Uríka will, it may be hoped, retain a friendly recollection of the “Ingliz.”

‘These mountaineers were fairer than their brethren of the plain, and some of the women comely. The latter, like their Rifian sisters, do not hide their faces; and we are told that the state of morality amongst them is of a very high standard. No female is in danger of being insulted, and it may be safely declared that there is a better state of morality amongst the Berber women of Morocco than exists in England or in any other country in Europe. The women were draped, like the men, in a long, seamless garment; but they wore it fastened by two silver brooches on the shoulders or over the breast, supporting the folds which hung gracefully around their persons. These brooches are generally connected by long pendent silver chains. The younger women had long black hair, which appeared to be carefully dressed, and they showed the same love of adornment as their European sisters by decorating their tresses with poppies and other wild flowers.

‘Lady Hay, who rode a mule, on learning that all must now dismount and proceed on foot if they wished to continue the ascent of the mountain, decided to remain at the village. A fine-looking Shloh, hearing of this decision, stepped forward and offered to take her into his house. She accepted his hospitality, and was placed under the ægis of the faithful chief of the camp, Hadj Hamed Lamarti. The rest of the party proceeded on foot.

‘The dismounted horsemen of the Bokhári guard were soon blown and gave up; then the Sheikh’s son—who was rather too well fed and in bad condition—sat down, looking very grave, and tried to dissuade us from further ascent. But on we went, accompanied only by some half dozen stalwart Shloh, armed with long guns. Under the shade of a locust-tree Sir John and his daughters, having ascended some way, came to a halt, as the air was sultry and the ascent very precipitous. Colonel Lambton, Major de Winton, Major Hitchcock, Captain Sawle, Mr. Hay, and Mr. Brooks plodded on, the mountaineers leading the way. The ascent was almost as steep as a vertical ladder, and after climbing some 1,500 feet they began to feel much exhausted. At this point four of the party gave up, and two of the mountaineers, glad of an excuse to halt, remained to guard them.

‘Captain Sawle and Mr. Hay continued their upward way, and, as Mr. Hay relates, “We appeared to gain fresh wind and strength as we ascended. On reaching the first snow we fired a shot to announce to the party our success, for in the morning there had been a great discussion whether the ascent to the snow could be accomplished in one day.

‘We reached the summit of the first high range called Zinat Kar at 2 p.m., and at that moment I sprung a covey of partridges, and again signalled our arrival by a successful right and left, which was greeted with a yell of delight by the mountaineers who accompanied us. We could not tell what height we had reached, as my aneroid was out of order and had stopped registering half-way; but as far as we could judge by distance we must then have been about 6,000 feet above the camp. To our astonishment we found here an extensive table-land with considerable cultivation, though snow was still lying on the ground in many parts. This plateau extended to the foot of a snow-covered range which again rose abruptly beyond.

‘Whilst we rested I discharged my gun at an eagle, and afterwards at a crow, which latter I killed—a curious bird with red beak and legs. A few minutes after, when we were thinking of again continuing our route, we heard to our surprise a volley of musketry, and saw the distant heights around us manned by armed men. Our Shloh companions informed us that these people were the “Ahal Kubla,” or people of the South, inhabiting the snowy range before us. This tribe does not submit to the Sultan’s authority, and a gun fired on a height is a signal that an enemy is in sight, and consequently, we were told, in another hour we might find ourselves surrounded by these lawless people, who were at present at feud with the Uríka, and the latter do not venture therefore to trespass on their territory.

‘The difficulty the Sultan would experience in subduing these tribes can be imagined, since the sole access to this district is by the steep ascent we had just made[50].

‘Discretion being the better part of valour, we determined to beat a rapid retreat, and descended the escalade as fast as our weary limbs would carry us. At 4 o’clock we rejoined the rest of the party under the olive-trees where we had first stopped. They had just concluded the feast and were starting for camp.

‘While the climbing party were in sight Sir John and his daughters watched them from under the shade of the locust-tree: then, descending to the village, found Hadj Hamed waiting for them in one of the little streets. He conducted them to Lady Hay, whom the villagers had installed in the open gallery of one of their houses, looking out on the mountains. It was very clean: there were only some dry maize husks piled in a corner and a number of beehives arranged in a row on the floor. The pillars which supported the front of the gallery were ornamented very rudely with quaint attempts at arabesque decoration. Lady Hay said she had felt faint on arrival, and having asked for bread, they brought her a loaf and a piece of honeycomb.

‘The owner of the house welcomed us warmly, and on Sir John saying that he was much pleased with the mountaineers and considered them far finer fellows than the Arabs, he was delighted, and tried to pay some compliment to the English. Then he brought us in the skirt of his dress a number of freshly gathered oranges, which proved delicious.

‘All the climbers now returned except Captain Sawle and Mr. Hay, and we prepared to leave our comfortable retreat; but, when Sir John turned to take leave of his kind host, the latter begged and implored him to wait a little longer—only a few minutes, he pleaded. After some demur, his earnest request was acceded to; the carpets were again spread, and all sat down. The hospitable villager hurried away, but soon re-appeared, followed by another man, each bearing a bowl of smoking hot paste, resembling vermicelli, boiled in milk. In the centre of each dish was a little pool of melted butter. We rather dreaded tasting the food, after our late experience of Moorish cookery, but were agreeably surprised, when, having grouped ourselves round each bowl, using our own forks, we tried the mess and found it excellent. The paste was delicate, well boiled, and flavoured with some pungent spice, and the butter exquisitely fresh and sweet. This form of food appears to have been a staple dish with the Berbers since ancient times. We did justice to this food, which was followed by a basket of hot cakes made of rye, resembling scones, accompanied by a bowl of melted butter, and those who had the courage to dip their bread therein pronounced it good also.

‘Our host no longer made any objection when we again rose to depart, only saying, when thanked for his hospitality, that not having expected us to remain at his village he had been unable to prepare better food at such short notice. He added that, should the “Bashador” desire at any future time to travel in the Atlas, he could do so in perfect safety—especially if unaccompanied by an escort from the Moorish Government. “For,” he said, “your love of justice towards all and the kindness shown by you to our poorer brethren, when in distress in the North (of Morocco), is known to us and we shall not forget. Come amongst us, you will ever be welcome; remain several months, hunt with us and be our guest, and no injury shall befall you or yours.”

‘Touched and pleased by this kindly speech from a native Sheikh in a district where few Christians had ever penetrated, Sir John and his party rode back towards the olive-grove. As we passed through the narrow lanes, the women and children collected in some of the orchards, smiling and beckoning, and were delighted when the ladies lifted the thick white veils they wore and greeted them in return. The women were fair-skinned, and many of them good-looking. Here and there we observed really pretty, graceful girls; one in particular, whom Sir John noticed as she leant against a doorway, was quite handsome. She was dressed in a curious “haik,” stained in patterns to represent a leopard skin, and hanging from her neck she wore a quaint, square-shaped silver ornament, with a blue stone in the centre.

‘The women’s heads were covered, but they made no attempt to veil their faces. The men were generally draped in the “haik”; but those who ran beside us, or climbed the heights, threw aside this cumbrous garment and appeared in thin long shirts belted at the waist. Wooden powder-flasks, covered with brightly coloured leather and studded with brass knobs, gay little shot or bullet bags, and an ornamented curved dagger hung by their sides from a broad strap over the shoulder. A long gun was invariably carried by each man. Some were bare-headed, others had a cord tied tightly round their shaven skulls, but most of them wore a small white turban.

‘On arrival at the olive-grove, at which we had promised to halt on our return, we were soon seated round an enormous flat dish full of “siksu.” It would have been cold, but for the depth of the contents; so that by digging down we reached some that was hot and palatable. Our followers assembled in twos and threes about each great platter and devoured the contents with the greatest avidity.

‘Several of the boys, who gathered about us, we observed busily working at a curious frame composed of a hollow cane, up which a number of coarse woollen threads were passed and secured at either end. Under these, the cane was encircled by a ring which held the threads away from the rod and enabled the little workman to deftly weave in bright coloured worsted across the threads, his fingers being employed without any shuttle, and a small piece of wood, cut like a comb, used to drive down each cross thread into its place, making various patterns as they went up the rod. On inquiring the purpose of this work we were told they were belts. Though we offered to buy any that were finished, none were forthcoming; but one of the lads brought his work to be examined, and was much startled when the “Bashador” on returning him his frame offered him a small coin, evidently fearing an attempt was being made to buy his work, frame and all. However he took the money readily, though shyly, when convinced it was only a present.

‘We returned to Marákesh on the 20th; but, before leaving, received a visit from some of the Jews who live amongst the mountain tribes and who wished to consult the doctor attached to the Mission. They came up as we were all seated, grouped under the trees about the camp. The elders kissed the heads of those of our party who were covered; the younger, their shoulders. These Jews were dressed exactly like the Shloh amongst whom they live, with the exception that they wore a black skull-cap. The Jewesses also were attired like the Shloh or Arab women, but with a scarlet headdress. The men were unarmed; but we were told that, further in the interior, the Jews carry arms and join in tribal warfare; neither are they, there, the oppressed people known to the lowlands of Morocco.’

Two of the stories related to Sir John on the march by the Sultan’s stirrup-holder may be inserted here as exemplifying the manners and customs of the officials about the Moorish Court, and especially those of the military class. The first may be called ‘A Story of a Moorish Prince.’

Mulai Ahmed, second son of Sultan Mulai Abderahman Ben Hisham, was appointed by his father Viceroy of the districts of Beni Hassén, Zair, Dukála, Shedma, &c. His residence was at Rabát.

This Prince was clever, and endowed with many good qualities, but he was extravagant and reckless in his expenditure, and thus became deeply indebted to the merchants and shopkeepers of Rabát; but no man ventured to press his pecuniary claims on the wayward youth. His debtors, moreover, had only to ask some favour by which they might be benefited in their trade, and it was immediately granted by the Prince; the favour thus conferred amply recouping them for their unpaid goods.

On the occasion of a visit of the Sultan to Rabát in 1848, Mulai Ahmed was still Viceroy. Various complaints had been brought by the inhabitants to the Uzir, Ben Dris, against His Royal Highness for not paying his debts; but the Uzir endeavoured so to arrange matters as to avoid reporting the misconduct of the young Prince to his father.

One day, however, when the Sultan was going to mosque, an Arab from the country called out, from a high wall—on which he had climbed to avoid being silenced by the troopers who formed the escort of the Sultan—‘Oh Lord and Master, Mulai Abderahman, my refuge is in God and in thee! I have been plundered and unjustly treated during this your reign.’

The Sultan, restraining his horse, desired his attendants to learn who this man was; and, after hearing their report, sent for the Uzir and directed him to inquire into the case and report thereon.

On the man presenting himself before the Uzir, the latter reprimanded him for brawling in the streets for justice. ‘One would suppose,’ said Ben Dris, ‘that there were no longer governors or kadis in Morocco! Whence are you? what have you to say?’

‘I am an Arab from Shedma,’ the man replied. ‘I had a fine horse, for which I had been offered by the chief of my tribe three hundred ducats, but I refused to sell; for, though a poor man, my horse was everything to me; I would not have parted with him for all the wealth that could be offered me. Some weeks ago I came to Rabát, and Mulai Ahmed—may God prolong his days!—in an evil hour saw my horse, and ordered his soldiers to seize it, sending me a purse of three hundred ducats, which however I refused to accept. For forty long days have I been seeking justice, but can obtain hearing neither of Mulai Ahmed nor of any one else.’

The Uzir replied, ‘If your story be true, your horse shall be returned to you; but, if false, you shall be made an example of for daring to bring a complaint against the son of the Sultan.’

The Uzir then sent a messenger to inquire of Mulai Ahmed concerning the matter, and by him the Prince sent reply that he knew nothing about the horse. The Uzir was consequently about to order the Arab to be bastinadoed, when the latter begged Ben Dris to send him, accompanied by some of his—the Uzir’s—attendants, to the stables of Mulai Ahmed, where he felt sure he would find the horse; begging that his whole tribe might, if necessary, be called upon to give evidence respecting the identity of the horse.

The Uzir accordingly sent the Arab, with a guard, to the Prince’s stables to point out the horse, with directions that it should be brought before him. He also sent to inform Mulai Ahmed that this order of his father the Sultan must be obeyed.

The attendants took the Arab to the stable, where he immediately recognised his horse, but had no sooner done so than he was arrested, along with the Uzir’s men, by some soldiers sent by Mulai Ahmed, and brought before the Prince, who had them _all_ bastinadoed and dismissed.

On the return of the Uzir’s men, they reported to their master what had taken place. The Uzir had them again bastinadoed for not having carried out his orders, viz. to bring back the Arab and his horse in safety. Then, mounting his mule, he rode direct to the palace, where he recounted to the Sultan what had occurred.

His Majesty was highly incensed; his eyes flashed lightning, and his voice was as thunder. ‘Dare any son of mine disobey the orders of his father? Are my people to be robbed and ill-used at his caprice? Summon the chief kaid of our guard.’

The officer appeared. ‘Take,’ said the Sultan, ‘a saddled mule to the palace of Mulai Ahmed. Bind the Prince hand and foot. Conduct him this day to Meknes, where he is to be imprisoned until further orders. Let the Arab have his horse and an indemnity for the rough treatment he has received. Let a proclamation be issued that all persons who have been unjustly used by Mulai Ahmed are to present themselves to me; for there is no doubt,’ added the Sultan, ‘that is not the only case of injustice of which my son has been guilty.’

The orders of Sultan Mulai Abderahman were obeyed. The chief of the guard appeared before Mulai Ahmed with a mule saddled and bridled, and informed the Prince he was deposed from his position as Viceroy, and that he was to proceed at once with him to Meknes.

At first Mulai Ahmed refused to obey his father’s commands, but, on being threatened by the officers with fetters and manacles if he showed any resistance, consented to mount the mule and start at once on his journey. The third day they arrived at Meknes, where Mulai Ahmed was confined in prison, whence he was not liberated for five years.

Another story related by the stirrup-holder was that of Kaid Maimon and the lion.

In the early part of this century, when Sultan Mulai Suliman reigned over Morocco, Kaid Maimon was Governor of Tangier, and, according to custom, had visited the Court at Fas to pay his respects to His Sherifian Majesty. On his return journey to Tangier he was conveying, in pursuance of His Majesty’s commands, a large lion in a cage carried by four mules, as a present from the Sultan to the King of Portugal.

One evening, after the tents had been pitched, and while Kaid Maimon was reposing on a divan in his ‘kubba,’ he heard shouts of alarm and the snorting and tramping of horses and mules which had broken loose from their tethers and were fleeing from the camp.

The Kaid clapped his hands repeatedly, to summon his attendants, but no one appeared. Being too much of a Moorish grandee to rise from the divan and see with his own eyes what had happened—such a proceeding would have been undignified—he remained seated, counting the beads of his rosary and muttering curses on his attendants. After a time he again shouted lustily for his slave ‘Faraji,’ with a malediction on him and on all slaves.

The Kaid had barely finished these imprecations, when in walked his huge prisoner, the lion, glaring fiercely at him.

Kaid Maimon was a man of undaunted courage: while realising it would be folly for him to draw his sword and attack the lion, as he would most probably be worsted in such a conflict, he was also aware that even should he succeed in dealing the beast a death-blow, his own life would be forfeited; as the Sultan would, no doubt, order his head to be cut off, for destroying the royal gift entrusted to his keeping for the King of Portugal. The Kaid therefore, looking as placidly as he could at the intruder, thus addressed his namesake—for the lion had also been given the name of ‘Maimon,’ or ‘the trustworthy.’ ‘You are a brave fellow, Maimon, to leave your cage and take a walk this fine evening. O judicious and well-behaved lion!’ he added, ‘you do right to roll and enjoy yourself’—as the lion, pleased with the voice of the Kaid, commenced rolling himself on the carpet. ‘O bravest and most trustworthy!’ the Kaid continued—as the lion, rising, rubbed himself cat-like against him, repeating this very embarrassing performance several times, finally stretching himself and lying down with his head on the Kaid’s knee.

Brave man though he was, Kaid Maimon perspired with horror at having to nurse such a beast. He tried patting him on the head, but a lash of the creature’s tail warned him that the lion preferred to take his repose without such caresses.

Not a sound was to be heard in the camp, save now and then a snort or struggle near the Kaid’s tent, from some terror-stricken horse which, winding the lion, was endeavouring to break away from the pickets which still held him—though most of the horses and mules had broken away and fled, with their masters after them.

Kaid Maimon now began to consider what kind of severe punishment he would inflict upon his cowardly attendants and his body-guard—if the lion did not eat him! ‘Fine warriors,’ thought he; ‘two hundred men to run away from a tame lion!’

At this moment the lion, having rested, awoke from his nap, and, stretching himself, showed his long and terrible claws. ‘This beast is not to be trifled with,’ reflected the Kaid; ‘yet if any rascal had shot it—either in self-defence or to save my life—I should have made him a head shorter.’

The lion now got up and, stalking towards the door of the tent, lashed his tail; one switch of which caught the Kaid’s turban and knocked it off. Calmly replacing it, the Kaid muttered to himself, ‘I hope this visit is now coming to an end. May it be the last of the kind I shall have to receive in my life.’

The lion, looking out, espied the horse—still picketed near the tent—which immediately recommenced its frantic struggles and at last, succeeding in breaking away, was just galloping off, when the lion, in two bounds, was on its back and brought his victim to the ground—panting in the agonies of death, its whole side lacerated and its throat torn open.

The Kaid, who had moved to the door of his tent, beheld this scene, and thought it would be a favourable moment, whilst the lion was enjoying his repast, to recall his cowardly attendants and troopers; so going out at the back of the tent, unseen by the lion, he looked around and finally espied his followers about half a mile off, huddled together, with the horses and mules they had recovered.

The Kaid, on coming up to them, vowed he would bastinado every cowardly rascal; but that the punishment would be deferred until the morrow, as they must now return at once to secure the lion before nightfall, adding—‘The first man who again runs away I will bastinado until the breath be out of his body.’

The keeper of the lion was a Jew; since, in Morocco, Jews are always appointed keepers of wild beasts, the Moors believing that a lion will not attack a woman, a child, or a Jew—as being beneath notice. The Jew was ordered to attach two long chains to the neck of the lion, now bloated with the flesh of the horse, then to stretch the chains in opposite directions and to attach them to long iron stakes which were driven into the ground for the purpose. The trembling Jew, who knew he would be cruelly bastinadoed should he fail to obey this order, did as he was bid, and the lion, lying near the remains of the horse he had been devouring, suffered the Jew to fasten the chains to the rings on his collar, which was still about his neck.

When this had been done, a dozen powerful men were ordered by the Kaid to fasten strong ropes to the chains, and by pulling contrary ways to control and guide the lion to his cage, wherein a live sheep was placed. By these means the lion was induced to enter his cage, the door of which was then closed.

Kaid Maimon, who was well pleased at the recovery of the Sultan’s present to the King of Portugal, forgave the conduct of attendants and troopers, and, assembling the chiefs, related to them the incidents of the lion’s visit to his tent.

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