The difficulty of getting correct information in such a country as this, as daily experience proved to us, is one of the most serious difficulties of the traveller, and depends quite as much on the incapacity of the natives as on the habitual suspicion with which all strangers are regarded. One day when Kaïd el Hasbi appeared to be in unusual good-humour we were endeavouring to obtain from him information as to some place on our route, and the interpreter being told to ask if he could make the matter clearer by reference to the cardinal points, he answered in a tone of contempt, ‘Does he take me for the captain of a steamer?’
After riding with us for two or three miles the Kaïd of Amsmiz bade us a friendly farewell; and we continued in our course across the plain, with occasional halts, in order more closely to examine the vegetation, which was here less varied and interesting than usual. Most of the surface was under grain crops—chiefly wheat and barley—now ripe, and in great part cut and carried away. In the drier waste tracts we once more came upon the characteristic vegetation of the plains, Acacia, Zizyphus Lotus, Rhus pentaphylla, and Withania frutescens being the prevailing shrubs. Of herbaceous plants Elæoselinum meoides, and other large Umbelliferæ, with Compositæ of the thistle tribe, were most conspicuous.
In Beaudouin’s map the chief branch of the Oued Nfys is shown as flowing parallel to the Atlas range from the south-west of Amsmiz, and receiving as tributaries the Amsmiz torrent and the broad stream that we had crossed near Gurgouri. On this day we satisfied ourselves that this representation is erroneous. The unanimous statements of the natives, confirmed by our own observations, proved that all the waters flowing northward from the mountains between Amsmiz and the borders of Mtouga are united in the stream that we had traversed at Sheshaoua on its way to the main river Tensift. The practice of intercepting the streams from the Atlas, and carrying them across the plain through irrigation channels below the surface, makes it extremely difficult to unravel the hydrography of this region.
About noon we reached the boundary that separates the districts of Amsmiz and Mzouda, and agreed to the suggestion of a mid-day halt under trees near a large village, of which, as we learned, many of the inhabitants are Jews. From early morning the clouds had been gathering along the mountain range, and by this time had quite covered the sky. The temperature was unusually low, not rising above 62° F. in the shade, and our hard work during most of the preceding night supplies the only excuse for the fact that, after a light luncheon, we both fell fast asleep, until aroused by the information that it was two o’clock, and high time to continue our journey. The flora being somewhat monotonous, we did not, perhaps, lose much by this unusual neglect of duty; but we remembered with regret that we had not ascertained to what species the tamarisk tree belonged under which we had taken our rest.
The boundary between Amsmiz and Mzouda is here formed by a torrent bed, now nearly dry, called by our escort Asif el Mel. This stream, as was agreed on all hands, joins those farther west that run by Sheshaoua to the Oued Tensift. As we rode onward across the plain several heavy showers passed over, which thoroughly drenched the scantily clothed men of our party, without at all quenching their habitual good-humour, but the soldiers were well provided with woollen coverings that kept them tolerably dry. There was little attempt at collecting-plants during the afternoon, as it requires a strong inducement to make a horseman whose outer clothing is thoroughly wet set foot to the ground. We found the village of Mzouda rather different in appearance from those we had hitherto seen. The houses—small cubical blocks built of clay dried in the sun—were less solid than the rough stone dwellings of the Atlas mountaineers, but much superior to the miserable huts of the Arab tribes in the plain of Marocco; and instead of the unsightly piles of thorny branches commonly used by the latter, these were enclosed within massive hedges of Opuntia whose dimensions showed that they were of considerable age.
As usual Kaïd el Hasbi had ridden forward with one of the soldiers to present the letter to the Governor, and to announce our arrival; and when, about 6 P.M., we reached the kasbah, quite a mile from the village, we received a message inviting us to take up our quarters within the building. As the ground outside was already wet, and the evening sky threatened more rain, we at once accepted the offer, and were conducted to two small but clean-looking rooms in a square tower that formed one of the angles of the building. Between the care of the small collections made during the day, and writing up our notes, and a frugal supper, the time was fully occupied until 10 P.M., when by previous arrangement we paid our visit to the Governor.
We found a spare-looking man of serious mien, quite devoid of the coarse, overfed, sensual aspect common among the men in authority in Marocco. The usual conversation as to the objects of our journey, led to an assurance that the district under his jurisdiction did not extend to the higher peaks of the Atlas, or, as it was expressed, ‘did not go to the snow.’ This may not improbably have been quite true, but our experience of El Hasbi’s machinations made us now very incredulous as to such statements. It was, however, obvious that Mzouda was not a convenient centre for mountain excursions, and we made no objection to the proposal that we should on the following day proceed to Seksaoua, which stands close to the foot of the mountains.
When we came to know more of his history, we found no cause to wonder at the grave and depressed demeanour of our host. He had succeeded to the government of his native district in early life, and had held it for many years when he was invited by the Sultan to Fez. On his arrival he was thrown into a dungeon where he had remained ten years, frequently subjected to torture, until so much of the wealth he was supposed to have amassed during his administration had been disgorged as satisfied the demands of the sovereign or some ruling favourite; and then, being released, he was sent back again to govern his district with the agreeable prospect of renewing the same experience after some uncertain interval. If actual fact in this country did not supply frequent proof, it would seem scarcely credible that the attractions of power and comparative wealth should induce men to face such a terrible, yet almost inevitable, future.
The sky had cleared during the night, but the morning of May 25 was unpromising. At 8 A.M., shortly before we started, the thermometer marked only 65° F., although our observations showed that in our yesterday’s ride of rather more than 20 miles we had descended fully 1,000 feet, the height of the kasbah above the sea being calculated at 2,367 feet. The night had not been altogether pleasant, for, in spite of insect powder, the bugs had made a vigorous and successful attack, and we should have preferred to start at an earlier hour. But as usual Kaïd el Hasbi stood in the way. He was quite determined not to let the unbelieving strangers put him to the slightest inconvenience that could be avoided.
Before we started the Governor sent Hooker a present of 20 dollars, which was of course immediately returned. The poor man doubtless thought it well to lose no chance of propitiating any influence that could possibly be of avail in the hour of future need. With the same object, he took the opportunity of sending through Abraham a dog to Mr. Carstensen at Mogador, and doubtless made presents to the officers of our escort.