Tafilet

by Walter Harris

Following the course of a valley, our road proceeding nearly due east, we passed the ruins of a ksar, or more properly a fortress, known as the Teherumt of Majdáta, the latter being the name of this inhospitable and nearly uninhabited district. The fort is in bad repair, half of it tumbling down, but in what remains a few poor Berbers have taken up their residence, and managed to till an acre or two of the soil in the immediate neighbourhood and plant it with turnips. Although a tolerable amount of vegetation is visible, we saw no herds or flocks, though it was stated that in spring a few goats are grazed hereabouts. Almost immediately after passing the Teherumt—“fort”—two small rivers are forded, the easternmost of which is known as the Wad Igurian, while I was unable to find the name of the other, only an insignificant stream. Both appear to unite after reaching the plain, from which only a low range of hills now separated us. The valley we were following, though scarcely deserving of being called a valley, for its watercourse was dry, descended to the western of these two rivers, only a few hundred yards of hill dividing the two streams, and after passing the Igurian one commences to ascend again by the course of a dry torrent, the hills on the south taking the form of high perpendicular cliffs of remarkably fine appearance. But little vegetation was to be found here, a few oleanders along the bed of the stream being almost all there was. Again passing a small watershed, we descended toward the river of Agurzga, parallel to the two we had passed, both of which crossed the road, which proceeded between the parallel ranges of mountains on the north and hills on the south, at right angles. I could hear of but few inhabitants in these districts, though our men said that a small tribe of Aït Minzeru lived higher up in the mountains, near the eastern slopes of Jibel Unila.

Where the road runs under the high cliffs the name of “Kaiseríeh” has been given to the spot, the same implying the narrow streets of the bazaars of a town.

At Agurzga, on the banks of the river of the same name, we spent the night of November 6.

Of all the picturesque and romantic spots we passed on the entire journey, I think Agurzga deserves to be

Agurzga.

considered the first, for not only is its situation, shut in with high precipices of bare stone, fine in the extreme, but the hand of man has done much to add to the scene by perching strange great castles, rich in decorated towers, on every pinnacle of rock that juts up in the narrow valley, and by terracing a sufficient quantity of land to allow of a strip of gardens along the edge of the river. The stream enters this portion of the valley by a narrow gorge, between precipices some thousands of feet high, and taking a semicircular bend, still between high walls of rock, opens out into a stony bed, one bank rising sheer in broken boulders to some height, while on the other side are the gardens of walnut, almond, and fig trees, terraced one above the other. Rising again high above these gardens are rocky eminences on which the great castles are perched, in one case the summit being crowned by a huge block of building, in others by tier above tier of strange yellow ksor and white square towers, the summits of the latter richly decorated in brickwork and turreted. Just as the Wad Agurzga enters the district to which it has given its name, so does it leave it again, flowing out to the level country through a gorge in the range of hills along the northern slopes of which we had been travelling. Through this narrow gorge, guarded by a ruined fort, we could catch a glimpse of the wide plain beyond, across which the rivers flow before entering themselves into the Idermi or the Dads, as the case may be. This plain, of which I shall have more to say anon, forms the centre of the Draa basin, and extends from the foot-hills of the southern slopes of the great Atlas range as far as the northern extremity of Jibel Saghru, the so-called Anti-Atlas, to the south. The river of Agurzga, flowing from the snow-level, is always well supplied with excellent water, which whirls and eddies along in crystal clearness over its stony bed, here in deep blue pools, and there in tiny rippling rapids. In winter-time it is liable to sudden floods, and often entirely unfordable.

We pitched our tiny tent at an elevation of 4850 feet above the sea-level, just opposite a large ksar, near a few solitary trees, and sent to the village for supplies, which we found difficult to obtain. However, without my knowledge, my men made out a tale that I was a poor Shereef on my way to make a pilgrimage to the tomb of Mulai Ali Shereef at Tafilet, and accordingly we obtained what money alone had failed to do, an excellent supper of boiled turnips and almonds and walnuts—not very nourishing, it is true, but hot and satisfying to those who had tasted nothing all day, as had been our case. The poverty existing in this spot is extreme, for the small quantity of land under cultivation is only sufficient to sustain the life of the inhabitants without allowing them to sell food, and all along the road we found the greatest difficulty in purchasing provisions. The money we offered was to them a large sum, but its acceptance in return for what little they had of grain, eggs, fowls, or turnips would have eventually placed them in the position in which we found ourselves—namely, in possession of money but unable to purchase food with it. It is extraordinary upon occasions like this how one realises the worthlessness of money in places where there is nothing to be procured with it; and our little hoard of silver, small as it was, seemed but to mock our hunger.

However, my supposed sanctity did more for us than coin could do, and we supped after all. It was not until the following day that I learned the ruse by which my men had been obliged to obtain provisions. I felt but little remorse, however, as the villagers had been paid for what they brought in small presents to the children, and would no doubt find an opportunity of rechanging the few pesetas we had given them into food in course of time.

Early on the morning of November 7 we left Agurzga, and proceeding, still almost due east, crossed a line of hills and descended some two hours later to the valley of the Ghresat. The highest point of this five or six miles of road reaches an altitude of 5800 feet, where a small watershed is crossed, from which the streams flow east to the Ghresat and west to the Agurzga. For a mile or two after striking the river the road follows its course, almost due south, and passing between some undulating hills, the large settlement of Ghresat, with its picturesque ksor, lies before one, and beyond it the wide plain that lies between the Atlas and the Anti-Atlas.