Soon after 8 we got under way, and, after a short ride along the right bank, reached the stream above the part where the water is carried off for irrigation purposes. It was now seen to be a rapid torrent, from twenty to forty yards in width, and nearly two feet deep. For some distance the narrow floor of the valley was nearly flat, and the moist soil was covered with poplars and willows, and a dense undergrowth of grasses and herbaceous flowering plants. Among these were two large Ranunculi, and a gigantic orchid, growing four or five feet high, only a variety of our common Orchis latifolia.
The vegetation became still more interesting when we left the flat bottom of the valley, and began to ascend on drier ground, between tangled masses of bushes that formed a sort of thick hedge on either side of the track. For the first time in South Marocco, we saw two species of Clematis—C. cirrhosa and C. Flammula,—along with several other Mediterranean species; but our minds were especially exercised by a little bush with slender twigs and pinnate leaves, which, in default of flower or fruit, we were at first unable to refer to its place in the natural system. It turned out to be a curious species of ash, first found in the plateau region of Southern Algeria, appropriately named by M. Cosson Fraxinus dimorpha. As long as it remains a bush, with numerous twiggy stems, the leaflets are blunt and rounded; but when it becomes a shrub, with a stout trunk, it throws out leaves that approach in form those of the flowering ash. We nowhere saw it in this condition in Marocco, and only by the help of Algerian specimens could we have suspected the identity of the two forms. Among many thorny bushes we saw here one, first gathered the day before, near Tasseremout, which Hooker at once pronounced to be a Celastrus. This was first found in the South of Spain, and described as C. europæus by M. Boissier, but is in truth one of the many forms of C. senegalensis, a widely-spread tropical species, that extends from India to the west coast of Africa.
Among other novelties, we here saw, for the first time, a little annual stonecrop (Sedum modestum, Ball), that nestles in hollow places under large stones, or about the roots of trees; but the most curious trophy of our day’s work was a miniature bramble, lying flat on earthy banks, with small, mostly undivided leaves, and very few minute prickles. It is possible that the imperfect fruits that we saw had been dried up by the sun; but it seems more likely that this belongs to the group of dry-fruited brambles—the genus Dalibarda of some botanists—hitherto known only in America and Eastern Asia.
We passed near to several villages; but, as a rule, the valley tracks in the Great Atlas are carried on one side, and do not approach near to the houses. The valley grew narrower as we advanced, and the moderately steep slopes on either hand were covered with small trees of Callitris, and Juniperus phœnicea, none of them more than about thirty feet in height. If this country were administered by people capable of taking thought of its future prosperity, the former tree might undoubtedly become an important source of wealth. The beauty of the wood, if it were only allowed to attain a sufficient size, would always secure a ready market, even though it never reached the extravagant price which, under the name of citrus wood, it obtained in the days of Imperial Rome. The only use which it serves in Marocco is the production of gum Sandrac, of which a small quantity is exported to Europe.
The destructive practice of setting fire to the brushwood is the sole cause that prevents the northern slopes of the Great Atlas from being clothed with valuable timber. The motive is not only the desire to obtain pasture for sheep and goats, but also to deprive an enemy of cover for ambush during the frequent skirmishes that occur between neighbouring tribes. The olive, carob, and walnut, which are planted in the main valleys, and produce annual crops, are carefully protected; but the notion of looking forward to future profit after an interval of thirty or forty years would be absolutely unintelligible to a native of this country. By a very rude process, the natives extract from the trunks and branches of Juniperus phœnicea a sort of tar which is said to be a useful application in wounds and sores of men and animals.
As we continued to advance, the valley narrowed almost to a defile, and the track, carried along rather steep slopes, became difficult for laden animals, though not worse than one commonly meets in high mountain countries, nor nearly so bad as some that we afterwards traversed in the Atlas. Presently, Abraham announced that Kaïd el Hasbi declared the track too bad for farther progress of the baggage mules. As it was apparent that the valley widened out a short way ahead, and that the mauvais pas would soon come to an end, we turned deaf ears to the remark, and rode doggedly on for a short distance farther, encouraged by the view in front, which disclosed a long reach of valley, running deep into the heart of the great chain. Shortly after, those who were in front became aware that a vehement discussion was going on at the centre of our scattered line. The energy of our interpreter was taxed to the utmost in striving to render the emphatic sentences that were exchanged between Hooker and Kaïd el Hasbi, supplemented by the pantomimic gestures of the latter.
The gist of the argument was to the effect that even if we did go some way farther, at the risk of our baggage animals rolling down into the torrent—one of them had already slipped, and had a narrow escape—our progress to the head of the valley was out of the question, as the people there were in full revolt, and would not recognise the authority of the Sultan. We were inclined at the moment, and afterwards, to believe that this was a lie trumped up for the occasion; but the story might possibly be true, and, whether it were so or not, it was clearly impossible for us to proceed against the positive and determined opposition of our escort. With feelings of bitter disappointment we dismounted, and ordered that the baggage should return to a village near which we had passed an hour before, while we climbed to the top of a projecting spur of the mountain, commanding a view of the upper valley. For the moment, our interest in the vegetation yielded to the attractions of the scenery, and our curiosity as to the nature of the great mountain chain that rose steeply before us, seamed with snow that nowhere formed wide fields of névé, but lay in hollows and ravines forming long vertical streaks throughout the upper zone of several thousand feet in height. About two miles ahead of us the valley forks, the main branch from SSE. receiving a tributary from the S. or SSW. On a lofty spur between the two streams stood a village, conspicuous from a distance.
To be turned back at the very moment when the main object of our journey lay before our eyes, and that on pretexts that we utterly disbelieved, was sufficiently aggravating; and it was not in the most cheerful humour that, about mid-day, we retraced our steps down the valley, and, yielding to the suggestions of our escort, halted at the olive grove beside the village which we had noticed during our ascent. This was the first Shelluh village that we had been able to inspect nearly, and it was of the same type which we afterwards found throughout the mountain region. Unlike the Arabs, the Berebers always use stone for building when it is available. The walls are thick and solid below, but rudely constructed, and the upper portions are sometimes put together with mud and small pieces of stone. There is usually an upper story extending over the whole or part of the ground floor, and the roofs are flat and made tolerably water-tight with mortar or cement. In structure and appearance they reminded Hooker of the village houses of the mountaineers of Bhotan.
We collected a good many specimens during the afternoon, but were able to add little to the list of species already noted in the valley. The most important business in hand was to bring to book our enemy Kaïd el Hasbi—for so we began to consider him—and ascertain clearly whether he did or did not mean to carry out the orders of the Sultan, and convey us to some point within reach of the upper regions of the mountains. When pressed on this point, he distinctly declared that from Reraya—the next adjoining district to the west—we should be able to ‘reach the snow;’ and with that assurance we had to satisfy ourselves, and give such orders that the next evening should find us in the desired district.
The name of the village was differently noted by the members of the party; Assghin, as it is entered in Hooker’s notes, by an observation taken this afternoon, with the thermometer in the shade at 72° Fahr., stands at 3,427 feet (1,044·4 m.) above the sea. Up to this our observations had been reduced on the assumption that the pressure at sea level was exactly 760 millimetres; but henceforward we had the advantage of direct comparison with observations recorded twice a day at Mogador.