pping a log into a plough with an axe. Around the tomb
was a group of olive-trees, preserved leaf and stick and all, not a
branch even of dead wood off the ground removed, by reason of the
sanctity of the spot. However small a grove, it would otherwise have been
cut down, as affording cover to robbers and _ginns_ (evil spirits).
Thanks to saints' tombs the traveller in Morocco still meets with clumps
and occasional woods of olives. The sunshine glowed on their hoary
twisted branches, and flecked the gnarled trunks; the grey foliage cast
patches of dense shadow on the brown earth under the mammoths, whose
broken lines and odd elbows supported such masses of quiet colour and
solemn shade. We wound our way to the left among the huts. Of any road
between them there was none; the mules could barely climb over some of
the boulders among the refuse.

Once quit of the "green," we saw no one again, and got much mixed as to
direction. Finally, we struck a path with a descent into a pool and below
a fig tree, which, having made ourselves small, we circumvented, and
discovered that it meandered in time to the outside of the village.
Following, we wound southwards by a gorge along a rocky stream, which has
the reputation of rising suddenly after rain, and not long ago drowned
three mules.

Stepping-stones are not provided in Morocco, and it is generally a case
of plunging through a stream to reach the opposite side. Near a city with
good fortune a Jew may pass, the chance may be worth waiting for; but no
Mohammedan Moor would carry an infidel across on his superior back.

In time a different path led us back to Tetuan, and we rode in by the
Mulberry Gate at sunset, as the mueddzin was calling upon true believers
to worship.

On fine days we made many such excursions, and exploited the country for
miles round. Showery and doubtful days were devoted to the city and
shopping.

Shopping in a foreign city tends towards the accumulation of white
elephants, which, safely landed in England, work havoc in an English
home. Long flint guns from the Riff, and old blue dishes from Fez, and
orange-striped rugs from Rabat look strangely out of place with
wall-papers and oil paintings. The East will never sit down with the
West, and the adjuncts of either are bound to "fight." And yet we
shopped.

There are fewer more interesting ways of studying the outside life of the
people; a little gossip and less reliable information are all thrown in