in lieu of
which he accepted the money, but pointed out that the present must follow
in due course. None ever arrived, and the basha sent his brother-in-law
and a soldier to the tribesmen to ask an explanation of its
non-appearance. The brother-in-law was tactless, incensed the tribesmen,
and provoked them to bastinado him, whereupon the soldier lost his head,
and fired his gun off into the air. He was promptly disembowelled.

The brother-in-law returned to the basha, stiff, but alive; and the
country people give it as their verdict that the basha is a rapacious
man. They threaten that they will no longer bring their produce into
Tetuan to market, but will hold their own markets at some place chosen by
themselves out in the country, and Tetuan shall come out to buy. Such a
proceeding would be most inconvenient; for Tetuan is dependent for all
its supplies on the country people, who hold their markets on Sundays,
Wednesdays, and Fridays in the feddan, where they sit upon the ground
packed in hundreds, their chickens, eggs, butter, and produce in general
in their laps and at their feet. Their beef and mutton are but
second-rate, and the shapeless lumps of lean, tough meat take double as
long as an English joint to cook, and make but a poor show in the end,
hacked by the unskilful butchers past all recognition. Goat and fish are
to be had, sometimes partridges, hares, and rabbits, occasionally a
haunch of wild boar. Fish came in on certain days when the wind was
favourable: there was then a rush on the fish market, and almost a free
fight over the great panniers full of shining silvery sardines, and over
the bodies of the sellers seated on the ground. The successful carried
off a handful each, and the cafes and fish shops were soon frying
sardines for dear life, while the little streets were thick with the
steam of native oil and butter. Some big fish, four and five feet long,
came into market sometimes, and a small boy would be hired by a purchaser
to carry one home across his shoulder, its great head hanging down
behind, and underneath a pair of thin brown legs like little sticks
hurrying along the street.

Bread in Morocco is "passing heavy," flavoured with aniseed and full of
grit. Vegetables are to be had in abundance.

The slippers, which had been promised in three days, appeared in three
weeks. Whenever we passed the shop we asked after them: always the same
answer--_M[=a]nana_ (To-morrow). "No, there was no butte