bright morning sun. On the lowlands, sloping to the water's edge, the
fields were robed in a soft green attire, and dotted with herds of goats
and cattle. Old stone watch-towers lined the shore at regular intervals,
and coast-guard houses sheltering squads of soldiers, for this region is
famous as the resort of smugglers. On the opposite coast of Africa the
Ceuta range grew every moment more distinct; the loftiest peaks were
also mantled with snow, like the white flowing drapery of the Bedouins.
Still further on, dazzlingly white hamlets enlivened the Morocco shore,
with deep green tropical verdure in the background, while Ceuta
attracted more than ordinary interest. It is a Spanish penal colony,
surrounded by jealous, warlike Moors, slave-traders and smugglers. If we
are to believe the stories told by our captain, it must be one of the
most dangerous and uncivilized spots on the face of the globe.

Tangier stands on the western shore of a shallow bay, upon a sloping
hill-side, but is not at all impressive as one approaches it. The
windowless houses rise like cubical blocks of masonry one above another
dominated by a few square towers which crown the several mosques, while
here and there a consular flag floats lazily upon the air from a lofty
pole. The rude zigzag wall which surrounds the city is seen stretching
about it, and this is pierced by three gates which are carefully closed
at night.

Cairo is Oriental, but Tangier is much more so. Here we seem at one step
to have passed from modern civilization into barbarism. There is no
European quarter in Tangier; every evidence of the proximity of the
opposite continent disappears; the distance might be immeasurable. It is
Moorish from one end to the other; the very atmosphere and prevailing
odors announce it. It has little, narrow, dirty, twisted streets,
through which no vehicle could pass, and only accessible for donkeys,
camels, and foot passengers; there is no such thing as a wheeled vehicle
in the place. The women veiled, but scantily clad in some thin white
texture, move about like uneasy spirits, while one meets constantly an
humbler class, clad in a short blue cotton skirt, with little naked
brown babies astride of one shoulder. The men, with scarlet turbans and
striped robes, lounge about with their bare heels sticking out of yellow
slippers. There is no spirit of hospitality here, no welcome to be read
in those frowning bearded faces. Strangers are not liked, a