the latter entry referring to days when a fog or thick haze prevails in the morning, but disappears before mid-day. The desert wind is scarcely felt at Mogador. On an average it blows on about two days in each year, and on these rare occasions it has much less effect on the thermometer than it has in Madeira, doubtless owing to the protective effect of the chain of the Great Atlas.

These remarkable climatal conditions have been mainly attributed to the influence of the north-east trade wind, which sets along the coast, and prevails, especially in summer, throughout a great part of the year; the average of north and north-east winds being about 271 days out of 365. West and south-west winds blow chiefly in winter on about fifty-seven days in each year, and variable winds from the remaining four points prevail on an average of thirty-seven days. The north-east breeze, increasing in force as the sun approaches the meridian, maintains the exceptionally cool summer temperature already indicated as characteristic of the Mogador climate—a privilege which is not shared by Saffi or Mazagan, where the summer heat is sometimes excessive. It must be noted that although the summer temperature of the interior of Marocco is much higher than that of Mogador, it yet falls far short of what is found in places lying in the same latitude in North Africa or Asia. This is evidently owing to the influence of the Great Atlas chain, with its branches that diverge northward towards the Mediterranean, which screen the entire region from the burning winds of the desert, and send down streams that cover the land with vegetation.

When one comes to consider how it happens that a place possessing such extraordinary natural advantages has not become frequented by the class of invalids to whom climate offers the only chance of recovering health, or prolonging life, the obvious answer is, that invalids cannot live on air alone, and that few persons in that condition have the courage to select a place where they may reasonably expect much difficulty in procuring the comforts and even the necessaries of life, competent medical advice, and some reasonable opportunities for occupation or amusement. The difficulties under the first two heads are perhaps not very serious. Lodging and food may apparently be procured on reasonable terms, and for many years past there has always been a competent French physician residing here. The resources of the place in point of society are of course limited, and must vary with the arrival and departure of the few European residents; but any one fortunate enough to be interested in any branch of natural history would find constant occupation of an agreeable kind in a place where there are not half a dozen days in the year that may not be agreeably passed out of doors.[4]

A special subject, to be earnestly recommended to any competent inquirer, whether invalid or not, who may pass six months at Mogador, is the language and ethnology of the Shelluh branch of the Bereber race. Many of these mountain people come to seek a living at Mogador, and from our experience it would not be difficult to find one who would become a useful servant.

In the course of the day we visited the extensive stores of Messrs. E. Bonnet & Co., who export large quantities of olive oil from the neighbouring provinces. By increased care in the preparation and subsequent purification of the oil, its quality has been much improved. The cultivation of the vine has of late rapidly increased, and wine of tolerable quality has taken a place among the products which Marocco supplies to England.

Notwithstanding all that we had heard of the excellence of the climate, we had to confess that at this season Mogador is not a paradise for the botanist. The NNE. winds come saturated with vapour, and charged with minute particles of salt from the breaking of the Atlantic waves on the reefs near the town; and, as the temperature of the land is scarcely higher than that of the sea, the air has little or no drying effect on paper and plants. The consequence was that Mr. Carstensen’s kitchen was used both by day and night to save our specimens from destruction by damp.

As our interpreter, besides the cook and one or two more of our retinue, were Jews, it was decided that, in order to spare their feelings and those of the Jewish community in Mogador in respect to the Sabbath, we should despatch them along with our heavy baggage on April 28, while we should follow on the succeeding day to the spot where they were to await us. Later in the day, after completing the arrangements for our journey, we went by invitation to dine with the Governor. We found that our host had had a table prepared with chairs for Mrs. Carstensen, who with two European ladies graced the entertainment. Beside them a carpet was spread for Mr. Carstensen and our party; while the Governor himself, with three native functionaries, sat in their usual fashion, cross-legged, on another carpet several yards distant. The first preliminary was the washing of fingers. One attendant bore water, another a brass bowl or basin, and a third presented to each in turn an embroidered towel. This process is always repeated at the close of dinner, and is common to all classes in the country. The feast then began, as every well-ordered Moorish banquet must do, by green tea. Three cups, carefully prepared in the presence of the guests, in a silver teapot half filled with sugar, were handed in succession to each, and then fresh tea, with mint leaves added, is again prepared, and of this decoction the natives usually take one or two cups more. The serious part of the repast then followed. A large dish of coarse earthenware, covered with a conical cap of fine straw, twice the size of a beehive, is laid on a low wooden frame in the centre of the circle of guests. On the present occasion duplicate dishes were prepared for us, and for the Governor and his native friends. When the cover was removed, we were introduced to the national dish which was destined to be our frequent acquaintance during our journey in the South. The basis of keskossou is coarse wheaten, or sometimes millet flour, cooked with butter, for which oil is occasionally substituted. To this is added mutton, lamb, or fowls, cut up into pieces, with various vegetables, either laid on the farinaceous substratum or mixed up with it. Numerous dishes succeeded each other, but they appeared to be all variations on the same gastronomic theme. The cookery on this occasion was better than we often found it; but the pervading flavour of rancid butter, long kept in great earthen pots, is repulsive to European stomachs, and few strangers are ever fortunate enough to be able to enjoy Moorish feasts. To some of us this was the first occasion for practising the art of eating with our fingers, and it was lucky that our host was not at hand to observe the awkwardness of our first essays. We improved somewhat with practice, but never could approach the dexterity and neatness with which the natives accomplish the operation, using only the fingers of the right hand. Conversation was completely drowned during dinner by the native music provided in compliment to the distinguished guests. Four men, squatting on the ground, struck the stretched metal strings of an instrument somewhat resembling a very rude Tyrolese zither, and kept up a constant chant or recitation in loud nasal tones, very different from the slow monotonous almost always melancholy songs of the Arabs in the East. These men, on the contrary, declaimed the words with unflagging energy, as though determined that the hearers should understand the story; and it was a moment of intense relief when at the end of dinner the deafening clang of strings and voices ceased. The fingers were again washed, green tea again served, courtesy requiring that each guest should take at least three cups, and then the Governor and his friends advanced and joined our party.

Mr. Carstensen had asked permission to bring some wine for our use during dinner, and afterwards naturally took the occasion to invite the Moors present to take a share. With very slight show of reluctance, they accepted; and, though the quantity consumed was but trifling, the effect was unmistakable. The conversation became very lively, and jokes passed which excited peals of laughter, though most of them evaporated in the process of translation. One of the Moorish guests—Director of the Tobacco monopoly, as we were told—from the first struck us as a man of jovial temperament; and on him the extra glass or two of wine had a potent effect, the jollity culminating in an extemporised dance, reminding one of the dancing bears, once the delight of our youth, that have disappeared since the era of Zoological Gardens. The copious doses of green tea did not prevent some of the party from sleeping; while others sat up till near morning, engaged in the almost hopeless endeavour to get large piles of botanical paper thoroughly dry, before we finally started on our journey into the interior.

FOOTNOTES:

[1]See [Appendix C.]