Morocco, Its People and Places

by Edmondo De Amicis

Meanwhile we came up at every hundred paces or so with two or three laden mules, soldiers on horse-back, and servants on foot; fragments of the caravan that stretched along an hour’s journey before us. Among the soldiers there were some from Laracce, ragged fellows, with a handkerchief bound round their heads, and a rusty musket in their hands; and among the servants, boys of twelve or fourteen years old, whom I had not seen before, and who had escaped, I was told, from Mechinez and Karia-el-Abbassi, and joined the caravan, with nothing on them but a shirt, to seek their fortune at Tangiers, living meantime on the charity of the soldiers.

In some of these groups there would be one telling a story, others singing, and all seemed cheerful.

We stopped half-way, to breakfast in the shadow of a rock. And here I saw a scene that revealed to me the nature of the people better than a volume of psychological dissertation.

Near us there was a soldier seated on the sand, beyond him another, further on a servant, and about fifty paces from this last another servant, seated near a spring, with a jug between his knees. Wishing to drink, I called to the first soldier, “Elma!” (water), and pointed to the spring. The soldier answered with a courteous gesture of acquiescence, and imperiously ordered the second soldier to go and get some water. The latter made a gesture of obedience, and with threats and reproaches, asked the nearest servant why he had not brought the water. The servant in question sprang to his feet, made three hasty steps toward the one seated near the spring, and called to him to bring water instantly. The last, observing that I was not paying attention, did not move. Five minutes passed, and the water did not come. I turned to the first soldier and the same scene was enacted over again. Finally, if I wanted water, I had to shout to the man who had the jug, who, after a few moments for reflection, decided to get it, and brought it with about the speed of a tortoise.

We resumed our journey. A fresh breeze blew, and a cloud covered the sun, so that the ride was delicious; but as the tide continued to rise, and restricted us more and more to the sandy path, upon which we proceeded in single file, we soon found ourselves imprisoned between the sea and the rocky heights which rose almost perpendicularly above our heads, and obliged to go on among the stones, where the waves were already breaking. Several times the mule came to a stand in terror, and I found myself surrounded by water and wrapped in a cloud of spray. But our hour, as the cook said, was not yet come; and after about a mile, we reached a hill up which we climbed in haste, looking back “a rimirar lo passo.”

With us there was an old soldier of Laracce, a little touched in the head, who laughed constantly, but who knew the road. He made us skirt the hill, and led us through a thick grove of dwarf oaks, cork-trees, broom, and shrubs of various kinds; by a hundred twists and turns; through thorns, and mud, and water, and darkness; in recesses where no human creature appeared ever to have penetrated; and always laughing, brought us, tired and torn, to the shore again, where we found a strip of sand uninvaded by the waters.

Here, the caravan not having yet arrived, the beach was deserted, and we rode for some time seeing nothing but sea and sky, and the foot of the steep little hills which, forming so many little harbors, hid the horizon behind us. We were going on in silence, one behind the other, over the soft, carpet-like sand, every one of us occupied with his thoughts miles away from Morocco, when suddenly there sprang from behind a rock a spectre, a horrible old man, half naked, with a crown of yellow flowers on his head,—a saint,—who began to inveigh against us, howling like a madman, and making with both hands the gesture of scratching our faces and tearing our beards. We stopped to look at him. He became more ferocious. Ranni, without further ceremony, advanced to give him the stick; but I stopped him and threw some money to the saint. The rascal stopped, picked up the coin, looked at it all over, put it in his bosom, and began to yell worse than before. “Ah! this time,” said Ranni, “he shall have a good beating,” and raised his stick. But the soldier, becoming serious in a moment, stopped him, and saying a few words to the saint in accents of profound respect, induced him to be silent. The horrible old wretch gave us one fulminating glance, and hid himself once more among the rocks, where, it appears, he lives, feeding on roots, with the sole purpose of cursing the Nazarene ships that pass on the horizon.

We climbed the hills again, and rode for a long time through winding paths among rocks and bushes. At some points, where the path ran along the edge of the steep precipice, we could see far down the sea beating upon the rocks, and a long stretch of beach, with the caravan straggling along, and the immense horizon of the blue ocean dotted with distant sails. The mountains where our road lay formed with their checkered tops a vast waving plain, where there was no trace of cultivation, nor tomb, nor cabin, nor human creature, and no sound but the distant murmur of the sea. “What a country!” exclaimed the cook, looking about him with an anxious glance. “I hope we may not meet with any unpleasant adventure.” As for me, I asked myself whether there was no danger of lions. Going up and going down, losing sight of each other, and meeting again among the bushes, we travelled for two hours through these mountain solitudes, and began to fear that we had missed the way, when from a height, we suddenly discovered the towers of Arzilla, and the whole coast as far as Cape Spartel, whose blue outline was drawn sharply against the limpid clearness of the sky.

It was a delight for all the little caravan, but of brief duration.

As we descended toward the sea we saw far off a group of horses and men lying down, who, as soon as they discovered us, sprang to their feet, and to their saddles, and came toward us, spreading themselves out in the form of a half moon, as if they intended to prevent our advance toward the town.