Ten miles after leaving the nzala in the valley of the Wad Misfiwa, we descended by an execrable path to the level of the Wad Ghadat, close to
Fording the Wad Ghadat.
where a ruined or incompleted bridge raises its broken arches from the stony river-bed. The ford was bad enough, even though the river was not high, and it was only by piling the loads bit by bit on to the top of the pack-saddle of the highest mule that we succeeded in getting our baggage across at all, for the stream was strong and wide and swift.
No history or tradition seems to contain any record of the bridge, which, if ever completed, must have been a fine work with its five high arches; but it is easily apparent that it is of Moorish workmanship, and was no doubt erected by one of the early Sultans of the present dynasty, probably in the seventeenth century, for previous to that period the communication between Morocco and Tafilet was almost nil, the two countries forming as a rule separate kingdoms, though now and then falling under the jurisdiction of one Sultan, as in the case of three successive rulers of the Beni Merín dynasty. After the seizure of the thrones of Morocco and Fez by the Filelis, who still govern Morocco, it would be only more than probable that one of their first acts would be to keep communication open with the desert, whence their armies were drawn; and even to-day the river Ghadat at the time of the melting snows prevents all farther progress up or down the road over which we were travelling, which would not be the case were the bridge in repair, though the snows in the heights above would as often as not effectually bar all farther progress beyond.
The distance from the bridge over the Ghadat to Zarkten, the principal village and residence of the deputy governor of the district, cannot be more than about ten miles as the crow flies; but the river was too full to allow us to follow its bed, the shortest route, and we were obliged to climb by a precipitous path high up the mountain-side on the east bank of the river. Keeping parallel with the Wad Ghadat, except that we had necessarily to follow the escarpment of the range, we toiled on over a stony and rock-strewn track for some four hours. Tiring as the rough walking was—and it required, too, all our energies to prevent our mules and donkeys slipping on the smooth rock—the scenery amply repaid us for the disadvantages we had to suffer.
Perhaps the valley of the Ghadat was not so wild as some of the Atlas scenery we were yet to see; but it certainly possessed one feature that all the others lacked—namely, vegetation; for here on the cool north slopes of the range rain falls in plentiful supplies in winter and spring.
Away above us the mountains towered—here clothed to their summits with pine, arbutus, gum cistus, and evergreen oak; there rearing precipice upon precipice of bare forbidding rock to where the eternal snows formed a line of white against the sky. Below us, for our road ascended high up the mountain-side, lay the valley, clothed in verdure, through the centre of which, now in a wide stone-strewn bed, now dashing between high walls of rock, flowed the river, the roar of which was the only sound that broke the silence. Here and there we looked down on to the flat roofs of the Berber villages, where a small patch of land would be reclaimed, and walnut and other trees planted, through the branches of which peeps of narrow terraces, green with vegetables, appeared. Strange beautiful shapes the mountains take, at places rolling in sweeping curves, at others broken into rock projections and precipices, but everywhere presenting some point of grandeur and beauty.
At length towards sunset Zarkten came into sight, ahead and far below us, and we hurried on, hoping to reach the Sheikh’s house before dark, and thus obtain provisions for the night and our next day’s journey; but when, in fast falling twilight, we reached the rocky bed of the river, we found all hope of fording it to be impossible, and reluctantly retraced our steps to a few stone hovels we had passed a quarter of a mile back, near which we found space to pitch our tent. The cold was extreme, and it was only by untiring efforts that we were able to persuade the inhabitants to sell us a fowl, which, of its kind the very poorest, was no meal for eight people. Bread
