Tafilet

by Walter Harris

A View from above Zarkten.

and the native kuskus were neither to be obtained, and a few dried figs was all that our stock consisted of.

At daylight we descended once more by a precipitous path, and, after a weary hour and a half of labour, succeeded in getting our animals and our baggage across the river. So tired were the poor mules and donkeys with their struggle of perhaps 100 yards against the swift current, that we were obliged to call an hour’s rest on the farther bank, where we lay down under the shade of the grove of trees that surround the residence of the Sheikh.

A picturesque castle it is that the deputy governor of the district has built himself at Zarkten, though probably he gave more thought to its defence than to its appearance in designing it. The main body of the castle, for such it is, is a large square block, with a high tower at each corner, the latter gradually tapering as they ascend. The whole is built of tabia of dull yellow colour, but the summits of the towers are decorated with a coating of white-wash. Surrounding the whole building is a wall, parts of which form outhouses and rooms for retainers and guests. Standing in its groves of trees underneath a peaked mountain wooded with pines, it presents not only an effect of great picturesqueness, but also appears to possess the undoubted advantage in such a lawless country of being impregnable.

We had passed but few caravans or travellers on the road hither—merely a mountaineer or two singing cheerily as he came along driving his little mule before him, probably laden with the dates of Tafilet, which change hands many times before they reach Marakesh. A few of the mountain Jews, too, we met now and again—long gaunt figures, many carrying arms, and one and all a finer type of man than their co-religionists of the plains; for they have a hard existence these Israelites of the Atlas, and though not persecuted, find it difficult enough to scrape a living from their trades, for, as a rule, they are gunsmiths, workers in silver, or dealers in hides. As soon as our animals were rested, we lifted our scanty baggage once more on to their backs, and set out afresh upon our journey.

At Zarkten the valley splits into two parts, one continuing the general direction—north and south—that we had been following, while the other turns away to the west. It is from the latter that the Wad Ghadat flows, rising in the snows of Jibel Tidili, or Glawi, while the other is drained by the Wad Tetula, so called from a small settlement of Berbers, higher up its course, but locally known as the Asif Adrar n’Iri, “the stream of Mount Iri.” Just above the Sheikh’s house, and within 100 yards of it, the two rivers unite.

Turning a little to the west, we ascended an incline amongst gardens and fields and pine-trees, above the

The Sheikh’s House at Zarkten.

river Ghadat, until we reached the main portion of the village of Zarkten, a mile farther on. The place is poor enough, a few stone and tabia houses of mean appearance lying on a dreary level of bare soil at the foot of the great mountains beyond, and we did not turn aside to examine it more closely, for the view we obtained of the place from the distance of a few hundred yards was depressing enough. There is a considerable settlement of Jews at Zarkten, from whom we had hoped to obtain provisions; but it being Saturday, they would not sell, and the man we sent to the mellah, or Jews’ quarter, returned empty-handed.