ed at all, and the inhabitants of the city see but
the stern of the vanished steamer with all their letters on board, not to
return perhaps for a week. When the English Consul married, and his
furniture was sent out from England, the _Forward_ boat, which brought
it, came in sight of Mogador, and, being a rough day, went off to Madeira
and on its round by the Canary Isles, back to London again, without
touching at the sad white city at all. In this way things are apt to be
lost: it has happened with passengers.

A rowing-boat landed us on green seaweedy rocks, and we walked up the old
shell-encrusted water-stairs, and under the arch of the Water-port Gate,
above which is carved in Arabic, "The glorious King, my lord Mohammed,
ordered the building of this gate by his servant Hamed, son of Hammoo,
1184."

Once on a time, Agadir, a city on the coast, much farther south, was the
great port and commercial centre of Southern Morocco; but it was far
removed from the Sultan's grasp, the tax-gatherer could pursue the even
tenor of his ways without interruption, and the kaid afford to be
dictatorial and troublesome. Then the heavy hand fell, and the Sultan's
armies closed the seaport, offering its throng of prosperous merchants
the alternative of going to prison or of taking up their abode in
Mogador. This they did, and Mogador arose; while to work the lighters
(the cargo-boats), and to generally serve the merchants, a company of
Berbers was transported with them from the Sus and Agadir to the new
seaport.

Beyond the Water-port Gate we met a line of heavily laden camels, with a
company of athletic Berber drivers from the Sus, in quaint long tunics of
butcher-blue, and lank black hair: many of the men veiled themselves;
they all looked as wild as hawks, different from any type hitherto seen.

The familiar Hebrew broker, in dark blue or black gabardine and greasy
skull-cap, was strongly _en evidence_; while as to the state of the dogs
we met, of them must the Moorish proverb be written, "If fasting be a
title to Paradise, let the dog walk in first."

Our baggage had all to pass through the Customs House inside the
Water-port Gate; and there we walked, through great white-walled
courtyards, whose vistas, of arch beyond arch, suggested Temple courts.
Donkeys laden with skins were hurrying across them. Now and then a train
of camels swung along, carrying gum or wax or argan oil or almonds. In a
good almond year as many as a thou