hich had made talking difficult for the
last day or two; now the path was actually soft and earthy. A long string
of camels kept pace with us for a time on a parallel trail; then a douar
came into sight, afterwards two saint-houses and a ruined kasbah. That
half of these castles are ruined is not to be wondered at, considering
that they are mud-built, and that tribal disputes and invasions are
interminable. Some of those same crumbling tapia walls which we passed
supported immense earthen jars, standing out against the sky--jars which
are stored with corn or butter, and sealed up: nine months' old butter
has the reputation of an old wine.

Shady trees, standing for the most part by the stream, hung over our
path, but would have made damp camping-grounds, and we rode on through a
marsh, up one ridge, down the opposite side, and at last into the
principal village of Sheshaoua, not far from which, on a hillside to the
north-east, lay one of the familiar country market-places, with its
collection of little shelters for the sellers, its upright branches on
which to hang meat--Thursday's market this. A ruined, red-walled kasbah
faced it, apparently inhabited by storks alone, busy building their great
rough nests: some were in the village.

Sheshaoua was no douar, but a high-walled collection of houses,
overlooked by the modern kasbah on the hill. Thither we rode, up the
steep slope, to call on the kaid, Sekassam Belcady, and ask permission to
pitch the tents in one of the gardens which fringed the stream below.
This the khaylifa granted at once (the kaid himself being at Fez with the
Sultan), pressing on us the alternative of putting up inside the kasbah
itself; but the open air had stronger attractions, and we wound our way
downhill to the stream, on the other side of which the kaid's own garden
lay. There being no bridge, the stream deep, and the banks steep, the
mules were driven over by themselves, and R. and I followed one by one on
Omar's back--on and into a natural garden fit for the gods, one of
Nature's own parterres, and a paradise at that.

On dry ground, underneath orange-trees covered with blossom, we lunched
and lay down: of flowers, except wild ones, there were none, nor any
attempt at cultivation; the terraces were dense in greenery and shade,
interlaced with branches, intersected by streamlets, perfumed with
orange flowers; water murmured; nightingales answered each other from
every corner; wood-pigeons coo