r, filling it with sticks of
sweet-scented wood, till an odoriferous blue smoke rose from it. With
much care he carried the burner to us, and put it inside our coats,
thoroughly impregnating every thickness with warmth and odours of
cedar-wood. It was taken last of all to Mr. Bewicke's soldier, who
manipulated it correctly as a Moor, putting it inside his flowing
apparel, and sitting down with every fold closed in round him like a
miniature tent, the burner smoking away inside. A scent-spray was then
handed, with which we anointed ourselves in Moorish fashion, inside our
hats, up our sleeves, and round our necks.

Meanwhile, Hadj Mukhtar Hilalli poured out tea with a great elevation of
the teapot, raising his arm and showing greens and blues mixed to
perfection underneath his _k`sa_--a white woollen or silk robe worn only
by gentlemen--which, semi-transparent and gauze-like, fell in white waves
over his shoulders on to the divan. Under the k`sa was a long garment
with wide sleeves and buttoned all down the front--a _kaftan_--of
sea-green cloth, embroidered with gold. The kaftan just revealed a
waistcoat of a shade of blue, with gold and green buttons and embroidery.
Underneath this, and above his white cotton shirt and drawers, he
probably wore a woollen jacket. But greens and blues and gold were alone
visible. Sometimes several kaftans or several jellabs are worn one on top
of the other, all colours mixed, particularly if the owner is travelling.
Moors are a wool-clad people for the most part, due to the wet winter
climate: the men's brown woollen hooded jellabs keep out the rain more or
less, and the women's white woollen haiks answer the same purpose.

The Hadj turned up his sleeves as he made tea, the underside of them
being embroidered for this purpose. It was ready by this time, and
brought us on a brass tray by the eldest son. Though the little glasses
are not capable of holding much, the violent sweetness and the flavour of
mint prevent the uninitiated from doing justice to the regulation three
cups which courtesy demands should be drunk. But it grows, even upon the
European, that steaming golden-brown beverage, fresh and fragrant with
sweet thymes, while something in the climate of Morocco tends to make
sugar acceptable after a few weeks. We supplied ourselves with sponge
cake, pounds of which were piled on a brass tray in front of us: sweet
biscuits, toasted nuts, almonds, and raisins abounded on the same lavi