[7] Kaid is a complimentary title—­he was a common soldier.  M’Barak means “the blessed one,” and is one of the names usually set apart for slaves.

[8] Base copper coins, of which a penny will purchase a score.

[9] It is fair to say that this is no more than one of many stories relating to the great Wazeer’s early days.  Another says that he started life as a soldier.  There is no doubt that he is a man of extraordinary talent.

[10] A pannier made of palmetto.

ON THE MOORISH ROAD

[Illustration:  A SAINT’S TOMB]

CHAPTER III

ON THE MOORISH ROAD

    With the brief gladness of the Palms,
        that tower and sway o’er seething plain,
    Fraught with the thoughts of rustling shade,
        and welling spring, and rushing rain;
    ’Tis their’s to pass with joy and hope,
        whose souls shall ever thrill and fill
    Dreams of the Birthplace and the Tomb,—­
        visions of Allah’s Holy Hill.

    The Kasidah.

We travel slowly, for the Maalem “father” of the pack-mules—­guide, philosopher, and trusted companion—­says that haste kills strong men, and often repeats a Moorish proverb which tells us that walking is better than running, and that of all things sitting still is best.  If Salam and I, reaching a piece of level sward by the side of some orchard or arable land when the heat of the day has passed, venture to indulge in a brisk canter, the Maalem’s face grows black as his eyes.

“Have a care,” he said to me one evening, “for this place is peopled by djinoon, and if they are disturbed they will at least kill the horses and mules, and leave us to every robber among the hills.”  Doubtless the Maalem prophesied worse things than this, but I have no Arabic worth mention, and Salam, who acts as interpreter, possesses a very fair amount of tact.  I own to a vulgar curiosity that urges me to see a djin if I can, so, after this warning, Salam and I go cantering every late afternoon when the Enemy, as some Moors call the sun, is moving down towards the west, and the air gets its first faint touch of evening cool.  Fortunately or unfortunately, the evil spirits never appear however, unless unnoticed by me in the harmless forms of storks, stock-doves, or sparrow-hawks.

[Illustration:  NEAR A WELL IN THE COUNTRY]

In this fertile province of the Dukala, in the little-known kingdom of the victorious Sultan, Mulai Abd-el-Aziz, there are delightful stretches of level country, and the husbandman’s simplest toil suffices to bring about an abundant harvest.  Unhappily a great part of the province is not in permanent cultivation at all.  For miles and miles, often as far as the eye can see, the land lies fallow, never a farmhouse or village to be seen, nothing save some zowia or