I arrived in Marrakesh just too late to witness the reign of the talib, but I heard that the successful candidate had paid thirty-two dollars for the post—­a trifle less than five pounds in our money, at the rate of exchange then current.  This money had been divided among the tolba.  The governor of Marrakesh had given the lucky king one hundred dollars in cash, thirty sheep, twenty-five cones of sugar, forty jars of butter, and several sacks of flour.  This procedure is peculiar to the Southern capital.  In Fez the tolba kings collect taxes in person from every householder.

The talib’s petition to the Sultan had been framed on a very liberal scale.  He asked for a home in Saffi, exemption from taxes, and a place in the custom-house.  The Sultan had not responded to the petition when I left the city; he was closely beleaguered in Fez, and Bu Hamara was occupying Taza, the ancient city where the deed of the tolba had first instituted the quaint custom.  My informant said there was little doubt but that his Shareefian majesty would grant all the requests, so the talib’s investment of thirty-two dollars must be deemed highly profitable.  At the same time I cannot find the story I was told confirmed by Moorish historians.  No record to which I have had access tells of a Jewish king of Taza, though there was a Hebrew in high favour there in the time of Rasheed II.  The details of the story told me are, as the American scribe said, probably attributable to Mr. Benjamin Trovato.

When the attractions of Kaisariyah palled, the markets beyond the walls never failed to revive interest in the city’s life.  The Thursday market outside the Bab al Khamees brought together a very wonderful crowd of men and goods.  All the city’s trade in horses, camels, and cattle was done here.  The caravan traders bought or hired their camels, and there were fine animals for sale with one fore and one hind leg hobbled, to keep them from straying.  The camels were always the most interesting beasts on view.  For the most part their attendants were Saharowi, who could control them seemingly by voice or movement of the hand; but a camel needs no little care, particularly at feeding time, when he is apt to turn spiteful if precedence be given to an animal he does not like.  They are marvellously touchy and fastidious creatures—­quite childlike in many of their peculiarities.

[Illustration:  A BAZAAR, MARRAKESH]

The desert caravan trade is not what it was since the French occupied Timbuctoo and closed the oases of Tuat; but I saw some caravans arrive from the interior—­one of them from the sandy region where Mons. Lebaudy has set up his kingdom.  How happy men and beasts seemed to be.  I never saw camels looking so contented:  the customary sneer had passed from their faces—­or accumulated dust had blotted it out.  On the day when the market is held in the open place beyond the Bab al Khamees, there is another big gathering within the city walls by the Jamaa Effina.  Here acrobats and snake-charmers and story-tellers ply their trade, and never fail to find an audience.  The acrobats come from Tarudant and another large city of the Sus that is not marked in the British War Office Map of Morocco dated 1889!  Occasionally one of these clever tumblers finds his way to London, and is seen at the music halls there.