Chapter V: Part I: I (2)

An illustration of the high-handed way in which things are done in Morocco has but recently been afforded by the action of France regarding an alleged Algerian subject arrested by the Moorish authorities for conspiracy. The man, Boo Zîan Miliáni by name, was the son of one of those Algerians who, when their country was conquered by the French, preferred exile to submission, and migrated to Morocco, where they became naturalized. He was charged with supporting the so-called "pretender" in the Reef province, where he was arrested with two others early in August last. His particular offence appears to have been the reading of the "Rogi's" proclamations to the public, and inciting them to rebel against the Sultan. But when brought a prisoner to Tangier, and thence despatched to Fez, he claimed French citizenship, and the Minister of France, then at Court, demanded his release.

This being refused, a peremptory note followed, with a threat to break off diplomatic negotiations if the demand were not forthwith complied with. The usual _communiqués_ were made to the Press, whereby a chorus was produced setting forth the insult to France, the imminence of war, and the general gravity of the situation. Many alarming head-lines were provided for the evening papers, and extra copies were doubtless sold. In Morocco, however, not only the English and Spanish papers, but also the French one, admitted that the action of France was wrong, though the ultimate issue was never in doubt, and the man's release was a foregone conclusion. Elsewhere the rights of the matter would have been sifted, and submitted at least to the law-courts, if not to arbitration.

While the infliction of this indignity was stirring up northern Morocco, the south was greatly exercised by the presence on the coast of a French vessel, _L'Aigle_, officers from which proceeded ostentatiously to survey the fortifications of Mogador and its island, and then effected a landing on the latter by night. Naturally the coastguards fired at them, fortunately without causing damage, but had any been killed, Europe would have rung with the "outrage." From Mogador the vessel proceeded after a stay of a month to Agadir, the first port of Sûs, closed to Europeans.

Here its landing-party was met on the beach by some hundreds of armed men, whose commander resolutely forbade them to land, so they had to retire. Had they not done so, who would answer for the consequences? As it was, the natives, eager to attack the "invaders," were with difficulty kept in hand, and one false step would undoubtedly have led to serious bloodshed. Of course this was a dreadful rebuff for "pacific penetration," but the matter was kept quiet as a little premature, since in Europe the coast is not quite clear enough yet for retributory measures. The effect, however, on the Moors, among whom the affair grew more grave each time it was recited, was out of all proportion to the real importance of the incident, which otherwise might have passed unnoticed.

III

BEHIND THE SCENES

"He knows of every vice an ounce."

_Moorish Proverb._

Though most eastern lands may be described as slip-shod, with reference both to the feet of their inhabitants and to the way in which things are done, there can be no country in the world more aptly described by that epithet than Morocco. One of the first things which strikes the visitor to this country is the universality of the slipper as foot-gear, at least, so far as the Moors are concerned. In the majority of cases the men wear the heels of their slippers folded down under the feet, only putting them up when necessity compels them to run, which they take care shall not be too often, as they much prefer a sort of ambling gait, best compared to that of their mules, or to that of an English tramp.

Nothing delights them better as a means of agreeably spending an hour or two, than squatting on their heels in the streets or on some door-stoop, gazing at the passers-by, exchanging compliments with their acquaintances. Native "swells" consequently promenade with a piece of felt under their arms on which to sit when they wish, in addition to its doing duty as a carpet for prayer. The most public places, and usually the cool of the afternoon, are preferred for this pastime.

The ladies of their Jewish neighbours also like to sit at their doors in groups at the same hour, or in the doorways of main thoroughfares on moonlight evenings, while the gentlemen, who prefer to do their gossiping afoot, roam up and down. But this is somewhat apart from the point of the lazy tendencies of the Moors. With them--since they have no trains to catch, and disdain punctuality--all hurry is undignified, and one could as easily imagine an elegantly dressed Moorish scribe literally flying as running, even on the most urgent errand. "Why run," they ask, "when you might just as well walk? Why walk, when standing would do? Why stand, when sitting is so much less fatiguing? Why sit, when lying down gives so much more rest? And why, lying down, keep your eyes open?"

In truth, this is a country in which things are left pretty much to look after themselves. Nothing is done that can be left undone, and everything is postponed until "to-morrow." Slipper-slapper go the people, and slipper-slapper goes their policy. If you can get through a duty by only half doing it, by all means do so, is the generally accepted rule of life. In anything you have done for you by a Moor, you are almost sure to discover that he has "scamped" some part; perhaps the most important. This, of course, means doing a good deal yourself, if you like things done well, a maxim holding good everywhere, indeed, but especially here.

The Moorish Government's way of doing things--or rather, of not doing them if it can find an excuse--is eminently slip-shod. The only point in which they show themselves astute is in seeing that their Rubicon has a safe bridge by which they may retreat, if that suits their plans after crossing it. To deceive the enemy they hide this as best they can, for the most part successfully, causing the greatest consternation in the opposite camp, which, at the moment when it thinks it has driven them into a corner, sees their ranks gradually thinning from behind, dribbling away by an outlet hitherto invisible. Thus, in accepting a Moor's promise, one must always consider the conditions or rider annexed.

This can be well illustrated by the reluctant permission to transport grain from one Moorish port to another, granted from time to time, but so hampered by restrictions as to be only available to a few, the Moorish Government itself deriving the greatest advantage from it. Then, too, there is the property clause in the Convention of Madrid, which has been described as the sop by means of which the Powers were induced to accept other less favourable stipulations. Instead of being the step in advance which it appeared to be, it was, in reality, a backward step, the conditions attached making matters worse than before.

In this way only do the Moors shine as politicians, unless prevarication and procrastination be included, Machiavellian arts in which they easily excel. Otherwise they are content to jog along in the same slip-shod manner as their fathers did centuries ago, as soon as prosperity had removed the incentive to exert the energy they once possessed. The same carelessness marks their conduct in everything, and the same unsatisfactory results inevitably follow.

But to get at the root of the matter it is necessary to go a step further. The absolute lack of morals among the people is the real cause of the trouble. Morocco is so deeply sunk in the degradation of vice, and so given up to lust, that it is impossible to lay bare its deplorable condition. In most countries, with a fair proportion of the pure and virtuous, some attempt is made to gloss over and conceal one's failings; but in this country the only vice which public opinion seriously condemns is drunkenness, and it is only before foreigners that any sense of shame or desire for secrecy about others is observable. The Moors have not yet attained to that state of hypocritical sanctimoniousness in which modern society in civilized lands delights to parade itself.

The taste for strong drink, though still indulged comparatively in secret, is steadily increasing, the practice spreading from force of example among the Moors themselves, as a result of the strenuous efforts of foreigners to inculcate this vice. European consular reports not infrequently note with congratulation the growing imports of wines and liqueurs into Morocco, nominally for the sole use of foreigners, although manifestly far in excess of their requirements. As yet, it is chiefly among the higher and lower classes that the victims are found, the former indulging in the privacy of their own homes, and the latter at the low drinking-dens kept by the scum of foreign settlers in the open ports. Among the country people of the plains and lower hills there are hardly any who would touch intoxicating liquor, though among the mountaineers the use of alcohol has ever been more common.

Tobacco smoking is very general on the coast, owing to contact with Europeans, but still comparatively rare in the interior, although the native preparations of hemp (keef), and also to some extent opium, have a large army of devotees, more or less victims. The latter, however, being an expensive import, is less known in the interior. Snuff-taking is fairly general among men and women, chiefly the elderly. What they take is very strong, being a composition of tobacco, walnut shells, and charcoal ash. The writer once saw a young Englishman, who thought he could stand a good pinch of snuff, fairly "knocked over" by a quarter as much as the owner of the nut from which it came took with the utmost complacency.

The feeling of the Moorish Government about smoking has long been so strong that in every treaty with Europe is inserted a clause reserving the right of prohibiting the importation of all narcotics, or articles used in their manufacture or consumption. Till a few years ago the right to deal in these was granted yearly as a monopoly; but in 1887 the late Sultan, Mulai el Hasan, and his aoláma, or councillors, decided to abolish the business altogether, so, purchasing the existing stocks at a valuation, they had the whole burned. But first the foreign officials and then private foreigners demanded the right to import whatever they needed "for their own consumption," and the abuse of this courtesy has enabled several tobacco factories to spring up in the country. The position with regard to the liquor traffic is almost the same. If the Moors were free to legislate as they wished, they would at once prohibit the importation of intoxicants.

Of late years, however, a great change has come over the Moors of the ports, more especially so in Tangier, where the number of taverns and _cafés_ has increased most rapidly. During many years' residence there the cases of drunkenness met with could be counted on the fingers, and were then confined to guides or servants of foreigners; on the last visit paid to the country more were observed in a month than then in years. In those days to be seen with a cigarette was almost a crime, and those who indulged in a whiff at home took care to deodorize their mouths with powdered coffee; now Moors sit with Europeans, smoking and drinking, unabashed, at tables in the streets, but not those of the better sort. Thus Morocco is becoming civilized!

However ashamed a Moor may be of drunkenness, no one thinks of making a pretence of being chaste or moral. On the contrary, no worse is thought of a man who is wholly given up to the pleasures of the flesh than of one who is addicted to the most innocent amusements. If a Moor is remonstrated with, he declares he is not half so bad as the "Nazarenes" he has come across, who, in addition to practising most of his vices, indulge in drunkenness. It is not surprising, therefore, that the diseases which come as a penalty for these vices are fearfully prevalent in Morocco. Everywhere one comes across the ravages of such plagues, and is sickened at the sight of their victims. Without going further into details, it will suffice to mention that one out of every five patients (mostly males) who attend at the dispensary of the North Africa Mission at Tangier are direct, or indirect, sufferers from these complaints.

The Moors believe in "sowing wild oats" when young, till their energy is extinguished, leaving them incapable of accomplishing anything. Then they think the pardon of God worth invoking, if only in the vain hope of having their youth renewed as the eagle's. Yet if this could happen, they would be quite ready to commence a fresh series of follies more outrageous than before. This is a sad picture, but nevertheless true, and, far from being exaggerated, does not even hint at much that exists in Morocco to-day.

The words of the Korán about such matters are never considered, though nominally the sole guide for life. The fact that God is "the Pitying, the Pitiful, King of the Day of Judgement," is considered sufficient warrant for the devotees of Islám to lightly indulge in breaches of laws which they hold to be His, confident that if they only perform enough "vain repetitions," fast at the appointed times, and give alms, visiting Mekka, if possible, or if not, making pilgrimages to shrines of lesser note nearer home, God, in His infinite mercy, will overlook all.

An anonymous writer has aptly remarked--"Every good Mohammedan has a perpetual free pass over that line, which not only secures to him personally a safe transportation to Paradise, but provides for him upon his arrival there so luxuriously that he can leave all the cumbersome baggage of his earthly harem behind him, and begin his celestial house-keeping with an entirely new outfit."

Here lies the whole secret of Morocco's backward state. Her people, having outstepped even the ample limits of licentiousness laid down in the Korán, and having long ceased to be even true Mohammedans, by the time they arrive at manhood have no energy left to promote her welfare, and sink into an indolent, procrastinating race, capable of little in the way of progress till a radical change takes place in their morals.

Nothing betrays their moral condition more clearly than their unrestrained conversation, a reeking vapour arising from a mass of corruption. The foul ejaculations of an angry Moor are unreproducible, only serving to show extreme familiarity with vice of every sort. The tales to which they delight to listen, the monotonous chants rehearsed by hired musicians at public feasts or private entertainments, and the voluptuous dances they delight to have performed before them as they lie sipping forbidden liquors, are all of one class, recounting and suggesting evil deeds to hearers or observers.

The constant use made of the name of God, mostly in stock phrases uttered without a thought as to their real meaning, is counterbalanced in some measure by cursing of a most elaborate kind, and the frequent mention of the "Father of Lies," called by them "The Liar" _par excellence_. The term "elaborate" is the only one wherewith to describe a curse so carefully worded that, if executed, it would leave no hope of Paradise either for the unfortunate addressee or his ancestors for several generations. On the slightest provocation, or without that excuse, the Moor can roll forth the most intricate genealogical objurgations, or rap out an oath. In ordinary cases of displeasure he is satisfied with showering expletives on the parents and grand-parents of the object of his wrath, with derogatory allusions to the morals of those worthies' "better halves." "May God have mercy on thy relatives, O my Lord," is a common way of addressing a stranger respectfully, and the contrary expression is used to produce a reverse effect.

I am often asked, "What would a Moor think of this?" Probably some great invention will be referred to, or some manifest improvement in our eyes over Moorish methods or manufactures. If it was something he could see, unless above the average, he would look at it as a cow looks at a new gate, without intelligence, realizing only the change, not the cause or effect. By this time the Moors are becoming familiar, at least by exaggerated descriptions, with most of the foreigner's freaks, and are beginning to refuse to believe that the Devil assists us, as they used to, taking it for granted that we should be more ingenious, and they more wise! The few who think are apt to pity the rush of our lives, and write us down, from what they have themselves observed in Europe as in Morocco, as grossly immoral beside even their acknowledged failings. The faults of our civilization they quickly detect, the advantages are mostly beyond their comprehension.

Some years ago a friend of mine showed two Moors some of the sights of London. When they saw St. Paul's they told of the glories of the Karûeeïn mosque at Fez; with the towers of Westminster before them they sang the praises of the Kûtûbîya at Marrákesh. Whatever they saw had its match in Morocco. But at last, as a huge dray-horse passed along the highway with its heavy load, one grasped the other's arm convulsively, exclaiming, "M'bark Allah! Aoûd hadhá!"--"Blessed be God! That's a horse!" Here at least was something that did appeal to the heart of the Arab. For once he saw a creature he could understand, the like of which was never bred in Barbary, and his wonder knew no bounds.

An equally good story is told of an Englishman who endeavoured to convince a Moor at home of the size of these horses. With his stick he drew on the ground one of their full-sized shoes. "But we have horses beyond the mountains with shoes _this_ size," was the ready reply, as the native drew another twice as big. Annoyed at not being able to convince him, the Englishman sent home for a specimen shoe. When he showed it to the Moor, the only remark he elicited was that a native smith could make one twice the size. Exasperated now, and not to be outdone, the Englishman sent home for a cart-horse skull. "Now you've beaten me!" at last acknowledged the Moor. "You Christians can make anything, but _we can't make bones!_"

Bigoted and fanatical as the Moors may show themselves at times, they are generally willing enough to be friends with those who show themselves friendly. And notwithstanding the way in which the strong oppress the weak, as a nation they are by no means treacherous or cruel; on the contrary, the average Moor is genial and hospitable, does not forget a kindness, and is a man whom one can respect. Yet it is strange how soon a little power, and the need for satisfying the demands of his superiors, will corrupt the mildest of them; and the worst are to be found among families which have inherited office. The best officials are those chosen from among retired merchants whose palms no longer itch, and who, by intercourse with Europeans, have had their ideas of life broadened.

The greatest obstacle to progress in Morocco is the blind prejudice of ignorance. It is hard for the Moors to realize that their presumed hereditary foes can wish them well, and it is suspicion, rather than hostility, which induces them to crawl within their shell and ask to be left alone. Too often subsequent events have shown what good ground they have had for suspicion. It is a pleasure for me to be able to state that during all the years that I have lived among them, often in the closest intercourse, I have never received the least insult, but have been well repaid in my own coin. What more could be wished?

A BERBER VILLAGE IN THE ATLAS]

IV

THE BERBER RACE

"Every lion in his own forest roars."

_Moorish Proverb._

Few who glibly use the word "Barbarian" pause to consider whether the present meaning attached to the name is justified or not, or whether the people of Barbary are indeed the uncivilized, uncouth, incapable lot their name would seem to imply to-day. In fact, the popular ignorance regarding the nearest point of Africa is even greater than of the actually less known central portions, where the white man penetrates with every risk. To declare that the inhabitants of the four Barbary States--Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, and Tripoli--are not "Blackamoors" at all, but white like ourselves, is to astonish most folk at the outset.

Of course in lands where the enslavement of neighbouring negro races has been an institution for a thousand years or more, there is a goodly proportion of mulattoes; and among those whose lives have been spent for generations in field work there are many whose skins are bronzed and darkened, but they are white by nature, nevertheless, and town life soon restores the original hue. The student class of Fez, drawn from all sections of the population of Morocco, actually makes a boast of the pale and pasty complexions attained by life amid the shaded cloisters and covered streets of the intellectual capital. Then again those who are sunburned and bronzed are more of the Arab stock than of the Berber.

These Berbers, the original Barbarians, known to the Romans and Greeks as such before the Arab was heard of outside Arabia, are at once the greatest and the most interesting nation, or rather race, of the whole of Africa. Had such a coalition as "the United States of North Africa" been possible, Europe would long ago have learned to fear and respect the title "Barbarian" too much to put it to its present use. But the weak point of the Berber race has been its lack of homogeneity; it has ever been split up into independent states and tribes, constantly indulging in internecine warfare. This is a principle which has its origin in the relations of the units whereof they are composed, of whom it may be said as of the sons of Ishmael, that every man's hand is against his neighbour. The vendetta, a result of the _lex talionis_ of "eye for eye and tooth for tooth," flourishes still. No youth is supposed to have attained full manhood until he has slain his man, and excuses are seldom lacking. The greatest insult that can be offered to an enemy is to tell him that his father died in bed--even greater than the imputation of evil character to his maternal relatives.

Some years ago I had in my service a lad of about thirteen, one of several Reefians whom I had about me for the practice of their language. Two or three years later, on returning to Morocco, I met him one day on the market.

"I am so glad to see you," he said; "I want you to help me buy some guns."

"What for?"

"Well, my father's dead; may God have mercy on him!"

"How did he die?"

"God knows."

"But what has that to do with the gun?"

"You see, we must kill my three uncles, I and my two brothers, and we want three guns."

"What! Did they kill your father?"

"God knows."

"May He deliver you from such a deed. Come round to the house for some food."

"But I've got married since you saw me, and expect an heir, yet they chaff me and call me a boy because I have never yet killed a man."

I asked an old servant who had been to England, and seemed "almost a Christian," to try and dissuade him, but only to meet with an appreciative, "Well done! I always thought there was something in that lad."

So I tried a second, but with worse results, for he patted the boy on the back with an assurance that he could not dissuade him from so sacred a duty; and at last I had to do what I could myself. I extorted a promise that he would try and arrange to take blood-money, but as he left the door his eye fell on a broken walking-stick.

"Oh, do give me that! It's no use to you, and it _would_ make such a nice prop for my gun, as I am a very bad shot, and we mean to wait outside for them in the dark."

The sequel I have never heard.

Up in those mountains every one lives in fortified dwellings--big men in citadels, others in wall-girt villages, all from time to time at war with one another, or with the dwellers in some neighbouring valley. Fighting is their element; as soon as "the powder speaks" there are plenty to answer, for every one carries his gun, and it is wonderful how soon upon these barren hills an armed crowd can muster. Their life is a hard fight with Nature; all they ask is to be left alone to fight it out among themselves. Even on the plains among the Arabs and the mixed tribes described as Moors, things are not much better, for there, too, vendettas and cattle lifting keep them at loggerheads, and there is nothing the clansmen like so well as a raid on the Governor's kasbah or castle. These kasbahs are great walled strongholds dotted about the country; in times of peace surrounded by groups of huts and tents, whose inhabitants take refuge inside when their neighbours appear. The high walls and towers are built of mud concrete, often red like the Alhambra, the surface of which stands the weather ill, but which, when kept in repair, lasts for centuries.

The Reefian Berbers are among the finest men in Morocco--warlike and fierce, it is true, from long habit and training; but they have many excellent qualities, in addition to stalwart frames. "If you don't want to be robbed," say they, "don't come our way. We only care to see men who can fight, with whom we may try our luck." They will come and work for Europeans, forming friendships among them, and if it were not for the suspicion of those who have not done so, who always fear political agents and spies, they would often be willing to take Europeans through their land. I have more than once been invited to go as a Moor. But the ideas they get of Europeans in Tangier do not predispose to friendship, and they will not allow them to enter their territories if they can help it. Only those who are in subjection to the Sultan permit them to do so freely.

The men are a hardy, sturdy race, wiry and lithe, inured to toil and cold, fonder far of the gun and sword than of the ploughshare, and steady riders of an equally wiry race of mountain ponies. Their dwellings are of stone and mud, often of two floors, flat-topped, with rugged, projecting eaves, the roofs being made of poles covered with the same material as the walls, stamped and smoothed. These houses are seldom whitewashed, and present a ruinous appearance. Their ovens are domes about three feet or less in height outside; they are heated by a fire inside, then emptied, and the bread put in. Similar ovens are employed in camp to bake for the Court.

Instead of that forced seclusion and concealment of the features to which the followers of Islám elsewhere doom their women, in these mountain homes they enjoy almost as perfect liberty as their sisters in Europe. I have been greatly struck with their intelligence and generally superior appearance to such Arab women as I have by chance been able to see. Once, when supping with the son of a powerful governor from above Fez, his mother, wife, and wife's sister sat composedly to eat with us, which could never have occurred in the dwelling of a Moor. No attempt at covering their faces was made, though male attendants were present at times, but the little daughter shrieked at the sight of a Nazarene. The grandmother, a fine, buxom dame, could read and write--which would be an astonishing accomplishment for a Moorish woman--and she could converse better than many men who would in this country pass for educated.

The Berber dress has either borrowed from or lent much to the Moor, but a few articles stamp it wherever worn. One of these is a large black cloak of goat's-hair, impervious to rain, made of one piece, with no arm-holes. At the point of the cowl hangs a black tassel, and right across the back, about the level of the knees, runs an assagai-shaped patch, often with a centre of red. It has been opined that this remarkable feature represents the All-seeing Eye, so often used as a charm, but from the scanty information I could gather from the people themselves, I believe that they have lost sight of the original idea, though some have told me that variations in the pattern mark clan distinctions. I have ridden--when in the guise of a native--for days together in one of these cloaks, during pelting rain which never penetrated it. In more remote districts, seldom visited by Europeans, the garments are ruder far, entirely of undyed wool, and unsewn, mere blankets with slits cut in the centre for the head. This is, however, in every respect, a great difference between the various districts. The turban is little used by these people, skull-caps being preferred, while their red cloth gun-cases are commonly twisted turban-wise as head-gear, though often a camel's-hair cord is deemed sufficient protection for the head.

Every successive ruler of North Africa has had to do with the problem of subduing the Berbers and has failed. In the wars between Rome and Carthage it was among her sturdy Berber soldiers that the southern rival of the great queen city of the world found actual sinews enough to hold the Roman legions so long at bay, and often to overcome her vaunted cohorts and carry the war across into Europe. Where else did Rome find so near a match, and what wars cost her more than did those of Africa? Carthage indeed has fallen, and from her once famed Byrsa the writer has been able to count on his fingers the local remains of her greatness, yet the people who made her what she was remain--the Berbers of Tunisia. The Ph[oe]nician settlers, though bringing with them wealth and learning and arts, could never have done alone what they did without the hardy fighting men supplied by the hills around.

When Rome herself had fallen, and the fames of Carthage and Utica were forgotten, there came across North Africa a very different race from those who had preceded them, the desert Arabs, introducing the creed of Islám. In the course of a century or two, North Africa became Mohammedan, pagan and Christian institutions being swept away before that onward wave. It is not probable that at any time Christianity had any real hold upon the Berbers themselves, and Islám itself sits lightly on their easy consciences.

The Arabs had for the moment solved the Berber problem. They were the amalgam which, by coalescing with the scattered factions of their race, had bound them up together and had formed for once a nation of them. Thus it was that the Muslim armies obtained force to carry all before them, and thus was provided the new blood and the active temper to which alone are due the conquest of Spain, and subsequent achievements there. The popular description of the Mohammedan rulers of Spain as "Saracens"--Easterners--is as erroneous as the supposition that they were Arabs. The people who conquered Spain were Berbers, although their leaders often adopted Arabic names with an Arab religion and Arab culture. The Arabic language, although official, was by no means general, nor is it otherwise to-day. The men who fought and the men who ruled were Berbers out and out, though the latter were often the sons of Arab fathers or mothers, and the great religious chiefs were purely Arab on the father's side at least, the majority claiming descent from Mohammed himself, and as such forming a class apart of shareefs or nobles.

Though nominal Mohammedans, and in Morocco acknowledging the religious supremacy of the reigning shareefian family, the Moorish Berbers still retain a semi-independence. The mountains of the Atlas chain have always been their home and refuge, where the plainsmen find it difficult and dangerous to follow them. The history of the conquest of Algeria and Tunisia by the French has shown that they are no mean opponents even to modern weapons and modern warfare. The Kabyles,[3] as they are erroneously styled in those countries, have still to be kept in check by the fear of arms, and their prowess no one disputes. These are the people the French propose to subdue by "pacific penetration." The awe with which these mountaineers have inspired the plainsmen and townsfolk is remarkable; as good an illustration of it as I know was the effect produced on a Moor by my explanation that a Highland friend to whom I had introduced him was not an Englishman, but what I might call a "British Berber." The man was absolutely awe-struck.

[3: _I.e._ "Provincials," so misnamed from Kabîlah (_pl._
Kabáïl), a province.]

Separated from the Arab as well as from the European by a totally distinct, unwritten language, with numerous dialects, these people still exist as a mine of raw material, full of possibilities. In habits and style of life they may be considered uncivilized even in contrast to the mingled dwellers on the lowlands; but they are far from being savages. Their stalwart frames and sturdy independence fit them for anything, although the latter quality keeps them aloof, and has so far prevented intercourse with the outside world.

Many have their own pet theories as to the origin of the Berbers and their language, not a few believing them to have once been altogether Christians, while others, following native authors, attribute to them Canaanitish ancestors, and ethnologists dispute as to the branch of Noah's family in which to class them. It is more than probable that they are one with the ancient Egyptians, who, at least, were no barbarians, if Berbers. But all are agreed that some of the finest stocks of southern and western Europe are of kindred origin, if not identical with them, and even if this be uncertain, enough has been said to show that they have played no unimportant part in European history, though it has ever been their lot to play behind the scenes--scene-shifters rather than actors.

AN ARAB TENT IN MOROCCO.]

V

THE WANDERING ARAB

"I am loving, not lustful."

_Moorish Proverb._

Some strange fascination attaches itself to the simple nomad life of the Arab, in whatever country he be found, and here, in the far west of his peregrinations, he is encountered living almost in the same style as on the other side of Suez; his only roof a cloth, his country the wide world. Sometimes the tents are arranged as many as thirty or more in a circle, and at other times they are grouped hap-hazard, intermingled with round huts of thatch, and oblong ones of sun-dried bricks, thatched also; but in the latter cases the occupants are unlikely to be pure Arabs, for that race seldom so nearly approaches to settling anywhere. When the tents are arranged in a circle, the animals are generally picketed in the centre, but more often some are to be found sharing the homes of their owners.

The tent itself is of an oval shape, with a wooden ridge on two poles across the middle third of the centre, from front to back, with a couple of strong bands of the same material as the tent fixed on either side, whence cords lead to pegs in the ground, passing over two low stakes leaning outwards. A rude camel's hair canvas is stretched over this frame, being kept up at the edges by more leaning stakes, and fastened by cords to pegs all round. The door space is left on the side which faces the centre of the encampment, and the walls or "curtains" are formed of high thistles lashed together in sheaves. Surrounding the tent is a yard, a simple bog in winter, the boundary of which is a ring formed by bundles of prickly branches, which compose a really formidable barrier, being too much for a jump, and too tenacious to one another and to visitors for penetration. The break left for an entrance is stopped at night by another bundle which makes the circle complete.

The interior of the tent is often more or less divided by the pole supporting the roof, and by a pile of household goods, such as they are. Sometimes a rude loom is fastened to the poles, and at it a woman sits working on the floor. The framework--made of canes--is kept in place by rigging to pegs in the ground. The woman's hand is her only shuttle, and she threads the wool through with her fingers, a span at a time, afterwards knocking it down tightly into place with a heavy wrought-iron comb about two inches wide, with a dozen prongs. She seems but half-dressed, and makes no effort to conceal either face or breast, as a filthy child lies feeding in her lap. Her seat is a piece of matting, but the principal covering for the floor of trodden mud is a layer of palmetto leaves. Round the "walls" are several hens with chicks nestling under their wings, and on one side a donkey is tethered, while a calf sports at large.

The furniture of this humble dwelling consists of two or three large, upright, mud-plastered, split-cane baskets, containing corn, partially sunk in the ground, and a few dirty bags. On one side is the mill, a couple of stones about eighteen inches across, the upper one convex, with a handle at one side. Three stones above a small hole in the ground serve as a cooking-range, while the fuel is abundant in the form of sun-dried thistles and other weeds, or palmetto leaves and sticks. Fire is obtained by borrowing from one another, but should it happen that no one in the encampment had any, the laborious operation of lighting dry straw from the flash in the pan of a flint-lock would have to be performed. To light the rude lamp--merely a bit of cotton protruding from anything with olive-oil in it--it is necessary to blow some smoking straw or weed till it bursts into a flame.

Little else except the omnipresent dirt is to be found in the average Arab tent. A tin or two for cooking operations, a large earthen water-jar, and a pan or two to match, in which the butter-milk is kept, a sieve for the flour, and a few rough baskets, usually complete the list, and all are remarkable only for the prevailing grime. Making a virtue of necessity, the Arab prefers sour milk to fresh, for with this almost total lack of cleanliness, no milk would long keep sweet. Their food is of the simplest, chiefly the flour of wheat, barley, or Indian millet prepared in various ways, for the most part made up into flat, heavy cakes of bread, or as kesk'soo. Milk, from which butter is made direct by tossing it in a goat-skin turned inside out, eggs and fowls form the chief animal food, butcher's meat being but seldom indulged in. Vegetables do not enter into their diet, as they have no gardens, and beyond possessing flocks and herds, those Arabs met with in Barbary are wretchedly poor and miserably squalid. The patriarchal display of Arabia is here unknown.

Of children and dogs there is no lack. Both abound, and wallow in the mud together. Often the latter seem to have the better time of it. Two families by one father will sometimes share one tent between them, but generally each "household" is distinct, though all sleep together in the one apartment of their abode. As one approaches a dûár, or encampment, an early warning is given by the hungry dogs, and soon the half-clad children rush out to see who comes, followed leisurely by their elders. Hospitality has ever been an Arab trait, and these poor creatures, in their humble way, sustain the best traditions of their race. A native visitor of their own class is entertained and fed by the first he comes across, while the foreign traveller or native of means with his own tent is accommodated on the rubbish in the midst of the encampment, and can purchase all he wishes--all that they have--for a trifle, though sometimes they turn disagreeable and "pile it on." A present of milk and eggs, perhaps fowls, may be brought, for which, however, a _quid pro quo_ is expected.

Luxuries they have not. Whatever they need to do in the way of shopping, is done at the nearest market once a week, and nothing but the produce already mentioned is to be obtained from them. In the evenings they stuff themselves to repletion, if they can afford it, with a wholesome dish of prepared barley or wheat meal, sometimes crowned with beans; then, after a gossip round the crackling fire, or, on state occasions, three cups of syrupy green tea apiece, they roll themselves in their long blankets and sleep on the ground.

The first blush of dawn sees them stirring, and soon all is life and excitement. The men go off to their various labours, as do many of the stronger women, while the remainder attend to their scanty household duties, later on basking in the sun. But the moment the stranger arrives the scene changes, and the incessant din of dogs, hags and babies commences, to which the visitor is doomed till late at night, with the addition then of neighs and brays and occasional cock-crowing.

It never seemed to me that these poor folk enjoyed life, but rather that they took things sadly. How could it be otherwise? No security of life and property tempts them to make a show of wealth; on the contrary, they bury what little they may save, if any, and lead lives of misery for fear of tempting the authorities. Their work is hard; their comforts are few. The wild wind howls through their humble dwellings, and the rain splashes in at the door. In sickness, for lack of medical skill, they lie and perish. In health their only pleasures are animal. Their women, once they are past the prime of life, which means soon after thirty with this desert race, go unveiled, and work often harder than the men, carrying burdens, binding sheaves, or even perhaps helping a donkey to haul a plough. Female features are never so jealously guarded here as in the towns.

Yet they are a jolly, good-tempered, simple folk. Often have I spent a merry evening round the fire with them, squatted on a bit of matting, telling of the wonders of "That Country," the name which alternates in their vocabulary with "Nazarene Land," as descriptive of all the world but Morocco and such portions of North Africa or Arabia as they may have heard of. Many an honest laugh have we enjoyed over their wordy tales, or perchance some witty sally; but in my heart I have pitied these down-trodden people in their ignorance and want. Home they do not know. When the pasture in Shechem is short, they remove to Dothan; next month they may be somewhere else. But they are always ready to share their scanty portion with the wayfarer, wherever they are.

When the time comes for changing quarters these wanderers find the move but little trouble. Their few belongings are soon collected and packed, and the tent itself made ready for transportation. Their animals are got together, and ere long the cavalcade is on the road. Often one poor beast will carry a fair proportion of the family--the mother and a child or two, for instance--in addition to a load of household goods, and bundles of fowls slung by their feet. At the side men and boys drive the flocks and herds, while as often as not the elder women-folk take a full share in the porterage of their property. To meet such a caravan is to feel one's self transported to Bible times, and to fancy Jacob going home from Padan Aram.

VI

CITY LIFE

"Seek the neighbour before the house,
And the companion before the road."

_Moorish Proverb._

Few countries afford a better insight into typical Mohammedan life, or boast a more primitive civilization, than Morocco, preserved as it has been so long from western contamination. The patriarchal system, rendered more or less familiar to us by our Bibles, still exists in the homes of its people, especially those of the country-side; but Moorish city life is no less interesting or instructive. If an Englishman's house is his castle, the Mohammedan's house is a prison--not for himself, but for his women. Here is the radical difference between their life and ours. No one who has not mixed intimately with the people as one of themselves, lodging in their houses and holding constant intercourse with them, can form an adequate idea of the lack of home feeling, even in the happiest families.

The moment you enter a town, however, the main facts are brought vividly before you on every hand. You pass along a narrow thoroughfare--maybe six, maybe sixteen feet in width--bounded by almost blank walls, in some towns whitewashed, in others bare mud, in which are no windows, lest their inmates might see or be seen. Even above the roofs of the majority of two-storied houses (for very many in the East consist but of ground floor), the wall is continued to form a parapet round the terrace. If you meet a woman in the street, she is enveloped from head to ankle in close disguise, with only a peep-hole for one or both eyes, unless too ugly and withered for such precautions to be needful.

You arrive at the door of your friend's abode, a huge massive barrier painted brown or green--if not left entirely uncoloured--and studded all over with nails. A very prison entrance it appears, for the only other breaks in the wall above are slits for ventilation, all placed so high in the room as to be out of reach. In the warmer parts of the country you would see latticed boxes protruding from the walls--meshrabîyahs or drinking-places--shelves on which porous earthen jars may be placed to catch the slightest breeze, that the God-sent beverage to which Mohammedans are wisely restricted may be at all times cool. You are terrified, if a stranger, by the resonance of this great door, as you let the huge iron ring which serves as knocker fall on the miniature anvil beneath it. Presently your scattered thoughts are recalled by a chirping voice from within--

"Who's that?"

You recognize the tones as those of a tiny negress slave, mayhap a dozen years of age, and as you give your name you hear a patter of bare feet on the tiles within, but if you are a male, you are left standing out in the street. In a few moments the latch of the inner door is sedately lifted, and with measured tread you hear the slippers of your friend advancing.

"Is that So-and-so?" he asks, pausing on the other side of the door.

"It is, my Lord."

"Welcome, then."

The heavy bolt is drawn, and the door swings on its hinges during a volley and counter-volley of inquiries, congratulations, and thanks to God, accompanied by the most graceful bows, the mutual touching and kissing of finger-tips, and the placing of hands on hearts. As these exercises slacken, your host advances to the inner door, and possibly disappears through it, closing it carefully behind him. You hear his stentorian voice commanding, "_Amel trek!_"--"Make way!"--and this is followed by a scuffle of feet which tells you he is being obeyed. Not a female form will be in sight by the time your host returns to lead you in by the hand with a thousand welcomes, entreating you to make yourself at home.

The passage is constructed with a double turn, so that you could not look, if you would, from the roadway into the courtyard which you now enter. If one of the better-class houses, the floor will be paved with marble or glazed mosaics, and in the centre will stand a bubbling fountain. Round the sides is a colonnade supporting the first-floor landing, reached by a narrow stairway in the corner. Above is the deep-blue sky, obscured, perhaps, by the grateful shade of fig or orange boughs, or a vine on a trellis, under which the people live. The walls, if not tiled, are whitewashed, and often beautifully decorated in plaster mauresques. In the centre of three of the four sides are huge horseshoe-arched doorways, two of which will probably be closed by cotton curtains. These suffice to ensure the strictest privacy within, as no one would dream of approaching within a couple of yards of a room with the curtain down, till leave had been asked and obtained.

You are led into the remaining room, the guest-chamber, and the curtain over the entrance is lowered. You may not now venture to rise from your seat on the mattress facing the door till the women whom you hear emerging from their retreats have been admonished to withdraw again. The long, narrow apartment, some eight feet by twenty, in which you find yourself has a double bed at each end, for it is sleeping-room and sitting-room combined, as in Barbary no distinction is known between the two. However long you may remain, you see no female face but that of the cheery slave-girl, who kisses your hand so demurely as she enters with refreshments.

Thus the husband receives his friends--perforce all males unless he be "on the spree,"--in apartments from which all women-folk are banished. Likewise the ladies of the establishment hold their festive gatherings apart. Most Moors, however, are too strict to allow much visiting among their women, especially if they be wealthy and have a good complexion, when they are very closely confined, except when allowed to visit the bath at certain hours set apart for the fair sex, or on Fridays to lay myrtle branches on the tombs of saints and departed relatives. Most of the ladies' calls are roof-to-roof visitations, and very nimble they are in getting over the low partition walls, even dragging a ladder up and down with them if there are high ones to be crossed. The reason is that the roofs, or rather terraces, are especially reserved for women-folk, and men are not even allowed to go up except to do repairs, when the neighbouring houses are duly warned; it is illegal to have a window overlooking another's roof. David's temptation doubtless arose from his exercise of a Royal exemption from this all-prevailing custom.

But for their exceedingly substantial build, the Moorish women in the streets might pass for ghosts, for with the exception of their red Morocco slippers, their costume is white--wool-white. A long and heavy blanket of coarse homespun effectually conceals all features but the eyes, which are touched up with antimony on the lids, and are sufficiently expressive. Sometimes a wide-brimmed straw hat is jauntily clapped on; but here ends the plate of Moorish out-door fashions. In-doors all is colour, light and glitter.

In matters of colour and flowing robes the men are not far behind, and they make up abroad for what they lack at home. No garment is more artistic, and no drapery more graceful, than that in which the wealthy Moor takes his daily airing, either on foot or on mule back. Beneath a gauze-like woollen toga--relic of ancient art--glimpses of luscious hue are caught--crimson and purple; deep greens and "afternoon sun colour" (the native name for a rich orange); salmons, and pale, clear blues. A dark-blue cloak, when it is cold, negligently but gracefully thrown across the shoulders, or a blue-green prayer-carpet folded beneath the arm, helps to set off the whole.

_Chez lui_ our friend of the flowing garments is a king, with slaves to wait upon him, wives to obey him, and servants to fear his wrath. But his everyday reception-room is the lobby of his stables, where he sits behind the door in rather shabby garments attending to business matters, unless he is a merchant or shopkeeper, when his store serves as office instead.