Journal of a tour in Marocco and the Great Atlas

by Joseph Dalton Hooker; John Ball

The declivity of the hill immediately west of our camp being much too steep for horses, we followed a circuitous track, at first NW. and then SSW., chiefly along steep slopes, on which, among other novelties, we first gathered Erodium atlanticum, discovered in this district by M. Balansa. After an ascent of some 1,500 or 1,600 feet the track turned again nearly due west, and we found ourselves on the southern slope of the mountain, which we now saw to be almost completely detached from the main range of the Atlas. The slightly convex ridge on which we stood inclined gently to the south, forming the watershed between the Seksaoua valley and that of Imintanout which adjoins it on the west. The slopes of the mountains enclosing both those valleys are better wooded than usual in the Atlas, some variety of evergreen oak being apparently the prevailing tree. Behind us, as we stood facing the great range, the mountain rose some 1,200 feet above our present level, and as the sun was hot we did not immediately dismount, but continued to ride some part of the way, only the final ascent being made on foot.

The view was in many respects very interesting, as it showed us a great part of the main range from an entirely new point of view, and the air on this day was unusually clear. Looking westward, where the horizon, at a distance of at least eighty miles, must have been rather near the Atlantic coast, we were able to assure ourselves that the hills that extend through most of the great province of Haha are all of moderate height, none of them approaching that on which we stood. In this respect Beaudouin’s map is much more correct than that of Gerhard Rohlfs, which seems to show that the main chain at its western end is broken up into lofty, diverging branches, some of which extend far through Haha. No prominent object caught the eye to the northward, except the familiar flat-topped hills near Sheshaoua. For the last time we were able to distinguish the site of the city of Marocco, bearing about NE. by E., and over sixty miles distant. About due east the high range at the head of the Aït Mesan valley showed much more snow than when we viewed it five days before from the summit of Djebel Tezah, while the latter mountain seemed pretty much in the same condition in which we had found it. About due south a rugged peak towards the head of the Imintanout valley had snow in rifts and depressions; and another of somewhat similar aspect, rising farther east and above the head of the Seksaoua valley, seemed to be the highest point in the whole range west of the sources of the Oued Nfys. From their position, and the ruggedness of their aspect, either of these peaks promised well for a naturalist who could succeed in gaining access to them, but we felt that such good fortune was not now in store for us.

The fresh sheet of snow which had fallen on the Aït Mesan range within the last few days led us to what seemed an explanation of the inconsistent accounts given as well by travellers as by natives as to the existence of perpetual snow on this part of the Great Atlas. From its position between the Great Desert to the south, the Atlantic Ocean to the west, and the low country to the north, it is obvious that a range of mountains from 11,000 to 13,000 feet in height must frequently be the seat of violent atmospheric disturbances. Whenever these draw from the ocean currents of heated air, nearly saturated with moisture, into the upper region, the cooling effect consequent on rapid expansion must produce copious precipitation, and it is most probable that on the higher part of the range this, even in the hottest season, takes the form of snow. But, as we had seen, the snow melts with extreme rapidity under the almost vertical sun during the summer months; and hence one traveller may have seen the range thickly snowed even in the hottest season, while another, with equal truth, may describe it as almost completely bare. The state of things is such that a very moderate change in the physical conditions might easily lead to the accumulation of an annual surplus of unmelted snow, which is the first condition for the formation of glaciers. A mere increase in the amount of precipitation, with little change in the general conditions of temperature of this region, might produce glaciers reaching as low down as that whose moraine we saw at the head of the Aït Mesan valley.

Many early-flowering plants were already withered, but we collected on the mountain several interesting species. Of two tall and very distinct Resedas found here, one is also a native of Spain; the other, R. elata, of Cosson, was first gathered by M. Balansa, and seems to be confined to this district. Of another curious plant discovered by the same active naturalist we now first saw satisfactory specimens. It is at first sight scarcely to be distinguished from a species characteristic of the hot and dry region of North Africa—the Cynara acaulis of Linnæus. The latter was discovered by Tilli, a Florentine physician, afterwards professor of botany at Pisa, who was called to Constantinople early in the last century to cure the favourite daughter of the Sultan. Being successful in his treatment, he received many tokens of favour, and seems to have made use of his opportunities to visit several parts of the Turkish Empire, and certainly travelled in the Regency of Tunis. The same plant was next seen by the English traveller, Thomas Shaw, who mentions it in the Appendix to his Travels published in 1738; and it was at last more fully described and well figured by Desfontaines in his excellent work, the Flora Atlantica. Decandolle, in attempting to reduce to order the vast mass of plants that belong to the natural order of Compositæ, clearly saw that this differed essentially from the genus Cynara (of which the type is the common artichoke), and referred it first to Serratula, and finally to Rhaponticum; and it has hence been generally known as Rhaponticum acaule. Many botanists were somewhat startled to find in the Genera Plantarum of Bentham and Hooker that the authors had united all the plants hitherto ranked under the generic name Rhaponticum with Centaurea, a vast genus, containing species of the most varied aspect, of which nearly 300 are already known in the Mediterranean region. It was interesting to us to find that the new species discovered by Balansa, of which the foliage is quite undistinguishable from the old Rhaponticum acaule, is, as regards the flowering heads, intermediate in structure between that and recognised species of Centaurea, though nearer to the latter. If we had remembered Shaw’s statement, that the roots of his Cynara acaulis have an agreeable flavour, and are eaten by the Arabs in some parts of Africa, we should certainly have tried whether the species are also similar in this respect.

During the ascent of the mountain we had passed near a little hamlet, containing eight or ten houses of the poorest class; but the laws of native hospitality required that refreshments should be offered to the strangers, and on the way back a halt was called. The mona consisted of eggs, wheaten cakes, butter, and milk, which were speedily despatched; and we added to our collections a curious biennial variety of Rumex vesicarius, having the membranous wings enclosing the fruit of a bright rose red.

By 4 P.M. we had got back to our camp, and the remainder of the day was devoted to the care of our collections. Before nightfall Kaïd el Hadj returned from his mission to Mtouga, bringing confirmation of the reports as to the outbreak of hostilities between the people of Mtouga and their neighbours of Haha, with an addition to our escort in the shape of six ragged-looking soldiers sent by the Governor of Mtouga.

On the morning of May 28 our numbers were further increased by the return of the two soldiers who had left us at Sektana for the purpose of escorting Maw to Mogador. They were welcome, for they brought letters from England, together with a good account of our travelling companion. He had reached Mogador early on the fifth day from Sektana, and happened to arrive a few hours before the departure of a small British steamer bound from the Canary Islands to London.

Before departing, we gave a last look at the neighbourhood of our camp, and reluctantly abstained from attempting a close examination of the ancient castle, or fort, which stood at the opposite side of the stream commanding the entrance to the main valley. We were well aware that any curiosity shown in that direction would have been set down to designs on buried treasure, and would have aggravated the suspicion with which all our proceedings were viewed by the native authorities.

We did not start until 10 A.M., and with an unusually long cavalcade followed a faintly marked track that winds round the northern base of the mountain which we had ascended on the preceding day, gradually attaining to a height of several hundred feet above the plain. Before long we crossed the borders of Imintanout, a district including several villages under a sheik who is dependent on the Governor of Haha. Through the valley, which here opens out, lies the main road from Marocco to Tarudant, the chief town of Sous. Jackson, who seems to have gained the especial favour of the reigning Emperor, received, about the beginning of this century, permission to accompany a military force despatched from Marocco to Tarudant, and no other European is known to have traversed this part of the Atlas.[1] Unfortunately his account of the expedition is limited to the statement that the way lies through a narrow defile, where the path cut in the rock is only 15 inches wide, with the mountain rising almost perpendicularly on one side, and on the other a precipice ‘as steep as Dover cliff, but more than ten times the height.’ It would have been a matter of great interest to us to make a short excursion up the valley, and to penetrate this defile, but once more we were doomed to disappointment. The sheik, having notice of our approach, met us near to what seemed the chief village. His language and manner were quite friendly, but he declared that it was quite impossible for us to enter the valley. Fighting, as he declared, was actually going on between the mountain tribes, those of Ida Mahmoud, to the east of the valley, taking part with Mtouga, and those of Ida Ziki, on the west side, holding with Haha. It was impossible to get any reliable information as to the nature of the country along the mountain road. According to one informant the distance to Tarudant may be traversed in two days, while another declared that time to be necessary to reach the summit of the pass. It seems certain that the main chain in approaching its western termination has a less regular structure than in the part nearer Marocco. It throws out numerous diverging ridges; the peaks, while inferior in absolute height, are more isolated; and the valleys, or at least that of Imintanout, now opening in front of us, seem to be more deeply excavated. We certainly heard the names of the two mountains mentioned above, which appear on Beaudouin’s map; but no name at all resembling Djebel Aithadius, which M. Balansa gives for one of the higher snow-seamed peaks in this part of the range.

We were here again struck by the difficulty of catching the sounds from native lips, a feat to be achieved only by repeated trials. At a first essay two Europeans will often write down a name in ways so utterly different that they cannot be recognised as intended to represent the same sound. Though some of the Shelluhs understand and use the word Gebel (or Djebel) for a mountain, the native word, at least in this district, seems to be certainly Ida, probably connected with Idrarn, the plural form of Adrar, a mountain. Idrarn Drann is the name given by the Shelluhs to the whole, or some considerable portion, of the Atlas range; and etymologists, when they come to know more of the Bereber dialects, may consider whether the name Dyris, by which this part of the Atlas was known to the Romans, is connected with the same root. Captain Beaudouin, the author of the French map, seems to have been misled by natives of this region, who would sometimes call a great mountain well known to them by the generic name Ida, and sometimes by a special local name, and was thus led to consider these as alternative names. Thus he writes the names of three mountains, Ida ou Ziki, Ida ou Mahmoud, and Ida ou Mahmed.