ITINERANT AUCTIONEERS
RABAT RUGS
"IT IS WRITTEN"
Rabat turns itself wrong-side-out to welcome the young prince. The Bashas and Kaids, who, with their retinues, have been awaiting Imperial orders, now sally out from the south gates, followed by the entire population in festival attire. We mount our horses, and with Haj and Kaid Lharbi as escort join in this picturesque exodus. An hour later we find ourselves in the midst of an armed multitude, massed on the hillsides stretching southward from the city walls and overlooking the narrow plain along the sea-shore, which is to be the avenue of approach for the princely caravan. We are the only white men in that vast expectant throng, the only "Christian dogs" who have ventured beyond the gates. Haj wears an anxious look; he knows that we are acting rashly in thus exposing ourselves unguarded to the whims of an army of fanatics. But the spectacle is worth the risk. Four thousand cavaliers are assembled along the crests of the hills or in the plain below, where battle seems to rage, for thence rises the smoke of oft-repeated volleys and the roar of musketry. Troop after troop is there performing the "powder play," Lab-el-Baroud, that very thrilling cavalry-manœuver peculiar to the "rough riders" of the Arab race.
GATE OF SHELLA
Photograph by Cavilla
