As we lingered on the topmost point of the mountain, the intense silence of the scene was broken by the distant scream of a large grey eagle that soared over our heads, and then sailed away southward over the Sous valley, making the deep stillness still more sensible than before.
The interval allowed for musing was not long; there was still much to be done, and we started to our feet to make ready for the descent. The observations for altitude had still to be recorded, and the usual difficulty of ascertaining the temperature of the air was here experienced. With a hot sun falling on an exposed rocky ridge, it is impossible to isolate the instrument from the effects of radiation. The result is usually to register too high a temperature; but the effect of placing the thermometer in a cleft where the rock is much below the temperature of the air leads to error in the opposite direction. The temperature here adopted was 60° Fahr., and the result of a comparison with Mogador gives a height a few feet above 11,000 feet, while the comparison with Iminteli falls a little below that level, the mean adopted being exactly 10,992 feet (3,350·1 m.)
After bottling a few beetles that were brought to light by turning over some flat stones, we gave a last glance at the ridge of Anti-Atlas, and at a quarter-past three turned to the descent. It was clearly desirable to take a different line from the straight course followed in the ascent, and we speedily agreed on the plan of action most likely to add to the botanical results of the ascent, which hitherto had fallen somewhat short of our expectations. The round-backed ridge sloping westward from the summit throws out a massive spur, projecting nearly at right angles or somewhat E. of N., so as to enclose a recess in the mountain into which a large part of the drainage of the northern slope is collected; there was reason, therefore, to count on finding there a more varied vegetation than on the bare slopes enclosing it. On the projecting spur above it, we were struck by the appearance of trees, evidently not coniferous, scattered at intervals along the slopes, while the greener tint of the surface gave some promise to the botanist. It was, therefore, desirable that this ridge should not escape examination. A rapid descent soon brought us to a point overlooking the hollow recess of the mountain where we were rejoined by our Shelluh guide, who had now assumed a crest-fallen air, and we at once determined to separate, Hooker with the guide descending into the hollow, Ball making a circuit by the ridge to the left. The time at our disposal being so short, it was impossible to examine the ground carefully, and many species were doubtless overlooked, but we were both rewarded by finding several plants not seen elsewhere during our journey. Among others Hooker secured a dwarf, very spiny barberry, with blueish-black berries, seemingly not different from the Spanish variety of Berberis cretica; and lower down, near the base of the mountain, a fine white-flowered columbine, fully four feet high, probably a variety of the common Aquilegia vulgaris, widely spread throughout the mountain regions of Europe and Asia, but not, as we believe, before found in the African continent. Ball, who reached the rendezvous half an hour after Hooker, brought down with him a curious little succulent plant, forming a new species of the genus Monanthes, hitherto known only in the islands of the Canary and Cape de Verde groups, along with three species of the lily tribe, all of them found in Southern Europe, but not before seen in Marocco. The tree was found to be the belloot oak (Quercus Ballota of Desfontaines), a variety of the evergreen oak, which is spread through North Africa and Spain, where the sweet acorns are commonly roasted and eaten, as chestnuts are elsewhere. Many of the trees are of great age and have thick trunks, and weather-beaten stunted branches, and are apparently the remains of extensive forests that once clothed the flanks of this part of the Atlas up to a height of about 8,500 feet above the sea.
Hooker found the sheik in a state of thorough exasperation at our success in defeating his orders, probably aggravated by the tedium of waiting for our return. He discharged volleys of fierce abuse at the guide who had failed to keep us within the prescribed limits, but was not openly disrespectful in his manner towards the Christian hakim who had come to his country under the immediate shadow of imperial protection. Foreseeing future trouble in returning through the valley after dark, he was evidently much annoyed at the necessity for awaiting Ball’s arrival. To calm his impatience, Hooker lent him a field telescope, and the novel experience so much amused him that his ill-humour appeared to vanish for the time. Uncivilised men are like children, rarely remaining long under the same impression; and even when seemingly quite possessed by some strong feeling, are led away from it by the veriest trifle.
As required by the inevitable rule of hospitality, a mona was offered by the people of the adjoining hamlet in the shape of a dish of keskossou, barely tasted by us, but speedily despatched by our followers, and at 6.15 P.M. we started on horseback to return to our night-quarters at Iminteli. The sun set before 7, and a brief interval of twilight soon gave place to a dark, though star-lit, night. In the open there was no difficulty in following the track along the torrent; but at one place, in riding through a walnut grove, we were reminded of our night-adventure in the Aït Mesan valley. The thicker branches of the walnut do not, however, lie low, as do those of the olive, nor are they beset with the stiff jagged leafless branchlets that made the latter so dangerous in the dark.
The grove was traversed without trouble; but another unlooked-for experience was in store for us. We had complained in the morning of what seemed a roundabout way taken in descending from Iminteli to the bottom of the valley; and perhaps the sheik now took a malicious pleasure in showing us the advantages of a short cut. Leading the way, he rode across the torrent, which barely reached the horse’s knees, and began to ascend the slope above the left bank. Before long he struck into the bed of a brawling streamlet that came tumbling over loose boulders down the declivity. As we advanced, the way became steeper, and shut in on either side by tall bushes and straggling climbers, all, as it seemed, beset with hooks and spines. There was nothing for it but to rely on our riding animals to carry us through as best they could, and wonderfully they demeaned themselves. Though patches of sky showed overhead, to our eyes the ground below was absolutely invisible; the boulders were evidently very large and slippery, and it was only by the most desperate struggles that the poor beasts succeeded in clambering up the slope, pausing frequently, with muscles quivering all over from the violence of their renewed struggles. The only thing for the riders to do was to hold on at all hazards, and keep their heads bent low, so as to save their faces from the spiny branches, that made havoc of their nether garments.
The time seemed very long before we finally emerged on the shelf of more level ground which lies along this side of the valley, and soon after reached our quarters at Iminteli, at about half-past eight. As we knew that we should have time on the following morning, and the day’s work had been rather fatiguing, we yielded to the claims of nature, let our collections rest in their boxes and portfolios for the night, and soon after supper lay down to sleep.
FOOTNOTES:
[1]The final letter is nearly or quite mute, and the name would by an ordinary Englishman be written Amsmee.
[2]This is apparently the pass spoken of by Leo Africanus as leading from near Imizmizi (Amsmiz?) to the region of Guzula (the northern branch of the Sous valley). He says it is called Burris, that word meaning downy, because snow frequently falls there.—See Ramusio, vol. i. p. 17, B.