‘We travelled along a path on the steep river bank, sometimes so narrow that, if a horse had made a false step, the rider might have been precipitated into the torrent which foamed below. But as we advanced the road improved, and showed signs of some knowledge of road-making and of great care on the part of the inhabitants. Here and there it was mended with wood and stones; the large boulders were cleared from the path and built up as walls on either side; and, where a torrent crossed the way, there was a rude bridge of one or more arches, composed of trees and branches cemented with mud and stone. Below us flowed the river, now turbulent and shallow in its wide bed. By the banks grew numbers of trees which resembled silver poplars, the timber of which is used in the construction of their houses by the mountaineers. Their delicate foliage contrasted pleasantly on the mountain side with the sombre green of the “arrar” and “aris,” which here do not seem to attain so great a height as they do in the Rif country. Mingled with them grow the karob, or locust-tree, and the mountain ash. Numbers of wild flowers filled the hedges that hemmed in the fields or grew by the wayside; among them we recognised many English friends. There were also several flowers new to us, particularly a lovely species of broom bearing a brilliant violet blossom with an orange centre, and another pretty, highly-scented, yellow flower all declared must be a wild jasmine, so closely did it resemble the garden variety.
‘Villages were to be seen on both sides of the gorge, and one of them saluted us with a feu de joie of musketry. After a gentle ascent of an hour and a half we arrived at a pretty grove of olives. Here the Sheikh insisted upon our dismounting, as he said the villagers desired to welcome our party by giving us a feast. It was in vain the “Bashador” explained that we desired to push, as far as we could ride, up the mountains. After waiting an hour, as no food appeared, he gained his point and we were allowed to re-mount. But, to our great dismay, just at the moment of moving off, arrived some forty villagers, every one of whom carried on his head a huge earthen platter, containing several dishes of meat and “siksu”; each dish holding sufficient to satisfy ten hungry hunters. Having explained to these hospitable people that we had only just had our morning repast and were most anxious to sharpen our appetites by a ride up the mountain before consuming the feast, we were allowed to depart in peace—though a solemn promise was first exacted that we would return without fail in the evening to accept their prodigal hospitality. We then continued the gradual ascent, passing through villages the houses of which recalled in some degree the chalets in Switzerland, though these were of very rude form. Many of them had overhanging eaves and open galleries on the second story, where the inmates could sit and enjoy the air and scenery, sheltered from sun or weather. Some of the houses were decorated with patterns on the wall below the roof, picked out in crossed lines such as are seen in old buildings in some parts of England and Germany. But in this instance the lines were white on the dull background of red earth with which these houses are built.
‘The population—men, women, and children—turned out to gaze at us. But neither by word, look, or gesture was there any demonstration of fanatical or hostile feeling. The villagers seemed rather to consider our advent to be the occasion for a holiday. A petition was sent to the “Bashador” by the boys of a school that their teacher should be asked to grant them a holiday to behold the English. A few silver coins to the pedagogue and the request of the “Bashador” set all the boys at liberty, and thus the rising generation of Uríka will, it may be hoped, retain a friendly recollection of the “Ingliz.”
‘These mountaineers were fairer than their brethren of the plain, and some of the women comely. The latter, like their Rifian sisters, do not hide their faces; and we are told that the state of morality amongst them is of a very high standard. No female is in danger of being insulted, and it may be safely declared that there is a better state of morality amongst the Berber women of Morocco than exists in England or in any other country in Europe. The women were draped, like the men, in a long, seamless garment; but they wore it fastened by two silver brooches on the shoulders or over the breast, supporting the folds which hung gracefully around their persons. These brooches are generally connected by long pendent silver chains. The younger women had long black hair, which appeared to be carefully dressed, and they showed the same love of adornment as their European sisters by decorating their tresses with poppies and other wild flowers.
‘Lady Hay, who rode a mule, on learning that all must now dismount and proceed on foot if they wished to continue the ascent of the mountain, decided to remain at the village. A fine-looking Shloh, hearing of this decision, stepped forward and offered to take her into his house. She accepted his hospitality, and was placed under the ægis of the faithful chief of the camp, Hadj Hamed Lamarti. The rest of the party proceeded on foot.
‘The dismounted horsemen of the Bokhári guard were soon blown and gave up; then the Sheikh’s son—who was rather too well fed and in bad condition—sat down, looking very grave, and tried to dissuade us from further ascent. But on we went, accompanied only by some half dozen stalwart Shloh, armed with long guns. Under the shade of a locust-tree Sir John and his daughters, having ascended some way, came to a halt, as the air was sultry and the ascent very precipitous. Colonel Lambton, Major de Winton, Major Hitchcock, Captain Sawle, Mr. Hay, and Mr. Brooks plodded on, the mountaineers leading the way. The ascent was almost as steep as a vertical ladder, and after climbing some 1,500 feet they began to feel much exhausted. At this point four of the party gave up, and two of the mountaineers, glad of an excuse to halt, remained to guard them.
‘Captain Sawle and Mr. Hay continued their upward way, and, as Mr. Hay relates, “We appeared to gain fresh wind and strength as we ascended. On reaching the first snow we fired a shot to announce to the party our success, for in the morning there had been a great discussion whether the ascent to the snow could be accomplished in one day.
‘We reached the summit of the first high range called Zinat Kar at 2 p.m., and at that moment I sprung a covey of partridges, and again signalled our arrival by a successful right and left, which was greeted with a yell of delight by the mountaineers who accompanied us. We could not tell what height we had reached, as my aneroid was out of order and had stopped registering half-way; but as far as we could judge by distance we must then have been about 6,000 feet above the camp. To our astonishment we found here an extensive table-land with considerable cultivation, though snow was still lying on the ground in many parts. This plateau extended to the foot of a snow-covered range which again rose abruptly beyond.
‘Whilst we rested I discharged my gun at an eagle, and afterwards at a crow, which latter I killed—a curious bird with red beak and legs. A few minutes after, when we were thinking of again continuing our route, we heard to our surprise a volley of musketry, and saw the distant heights around us manned by armed men. Our Shloh companions informed us that these people were the “Ahal Kubla,” or people of the South, inhabiting the snowy range before us. This tribe does not submit to the Sultan’s authority, and a gun fired on a height is a signal that an enemy is in sight, and consequently, we were told, in another hour we might find ourselves surrounded by these lawless people, who were at present at feud with the Uríka, and the latter do not venture therefore to trespass on their territory.
‘The difficulty the Sultan would experience in subduing these tribes can be imagined, since the sole access to this district is by the steep ascent we had just made[50].