So many thinly scatter’d leaves are seen
To clothe the fig-tree’s top with tender green.
The first-formed fruit drops off when half grown, to make place for that which is to arrive at maturity. When at Fort National last winter, I noticed dried figs hanging by threads from the branches, I was informed these were wild ones, and that minute insects escape, aiding the fructification of the plants from which they are suspended; the Kabyles count thirty-two varieties of this tree. Ilexes too were in full flower, with green bronze-coloured tassels hanging in profusion. Not very dissimilar in appearance were the cork trees, sober but refined in colour, combining a certain quaintness with elegance of form. Vines everywhere twined in great serpentine lines amongst the foliage. Lastly, on the lower slopes were fine groves of olive; a tree which grows with a vigour unmatched in Italy.
We scrambled down steep paths, and found ourselves at the foot of the mountain; halting on a grassy slope, we heard the rush of a torrent in its stony bed, mixed with the hum of voices of many people, and looking over the edge of the slope, saw the market just beneath. There, Kabyles were closely packed, like a swarm of bees, and hundreds of white burnouses jostled among the olives. Rows of rustic bowers were used as shops. In the centre was a fountain for men, while the stream served for watering the animals; on its banks flocks and herds were collected, and many animals had already been slaughtered for the day’s consumption. In the market all the commodities that Kabyles have need of were for sale. Here were great piles of bowls and other utensils in wood; there all sorts of earthenware vessels; in other quarters, burnouses and articles of clothing, oil, figs, grain, skins, tobacco leaves, and many other things. At every step there were varying pictures; but the heat was great, and in spite of the interest of the scene, we were soon glad to repose in the shade apart from the throng, where we lunched, and I spent the rest of the day painting and taking photographs. Besides supplying ourselves with meat and necessaries, I bought a woman’s dress of singular design, splashed in a curious way with patches of red; I also got pieces of cowhide, which were made up next day into sandals, which are called ercassen. The women usually do not attend the markets; a few however can sometimes be seen in a knot by themselves with pottery for sale.
As we returned the Jurjura were almost obscured in mist, a sure sign of approaching sirocco; the paths were crowded with peasants on their way home, in good humour, well satisfied with their day’s bargaining.
Kabyle paths are abrupt and rugged in the extreme; now running up over masses of rock, a very knife-edge of the mountain; now in steps passing between deep banks overgrown with ferns and flowers; one moment darkened by overhanging trees, an instant after they open upon a grand panorama, to twist again suddenly into some romantic bower. As we approached our tent at dusk, there by the side of it, was a second one, an army bell-tent, our friends having arrived during our absence.
Saturday, April 24 to Tuesday, May 4, 1880.—These were the days that they remained with us, most unfortunate as regards the weather, for we were often enveloped in dense cloud, and could see nothing.
Swift gliding mists the dusky hills invade,
To thieves more grateful than the midnight shade;
While scarce the swains their feeding flocks survey,