the boulders and heath.

The long level lines of the green oasis were broken at the edge by
diminutive bones of rock protruding through the grass. Sunk in the hollow
of the hills, there was little or no wind; the sun glowed indolently down
on the green lawn, tempting us to stay; but the foot-prints in the red
soil pointed forward, and we turned our backs upon the flat stretches of
sunny turf and left the waveless tarn behind.

No more emerald oasis, but grey-green scrub and stones on the
mountain-sides: we were up again in a stern and desolate defile, waste
beyond waste strewn with rocks. The distances were oddly deceptive in the
rare, clear air: a saddle between two peaks looked miles away--we were
upon it in half an hour; again, a turret of rock apparently within a
stone's-throw was a weary climb. And still the red trail snaked on before
us. Even the big grey donkey began to lose its interest and to require
"encouragement" from the Moorish boy.

We speculated as to whether we should ever reach a village before it was
time to make tracks for the world below, while the sun was well up. At
last, in front of us, a long low saddle intervened, with rising ground
on each side: this we determined to scale, once mounted on top see all
there was to be seen, and go no farther. And toil brought its unexpected
and exceeding great reward. Standing on the crest-line, shading our eyes
with our hands, mountain beyond mountain lay in the distance--the
Anjeras, the hills of Spain, the Mediterranean, Gibraltar; while in the
foreground clustered four villages, brown mud-coloured huts upon the
brownish slopes, and only picked out of their surroundings by means of
the one little whitewashed spot of a mosque. Below us a river had carved
a gorge in the red soil and tumbled over worn boulders beside the nearest
village, but it was more or less hidden from sight.

Much as we wanted to go on, it was impossible. First, there was not time.
Secondly, the donkey would have had as much as was good for him by the
time he got back. Therefore we chose a warm, sheltered spot, backed by
sun-baked rocks and scented with cropped tussocks of yellow gorse; and
there we lunched, the boy and donkey slipping out of sight, and leaving
us alone, with the hills, and the sound of the wind.

It must be a long tramp into Tetuan, even for hill people born to the
life of the open road,--four hours into the city with heavy loads of
charcoal, faggots, chickens, eggs,