. Life in Morocco and glimpses beyond . ck of provisions. Rancidbutter melted down in pots, honey, dates, figs,raisins, and one or two similar items form the re-mainder. Water is carried in goat-skins or in potsmade of the dried rind of a gourd, by far the mostconvenient for a journey, owing to their light weightand the absence of the prevailing taste of pitchimparted by the leather contrivances. Several ofthese latter are to be seen before the tents hangingon tripods. One of the Moors informs us that forthe first day on board they have to provide theirown water, after which it is found for th
. Life in Morocco and glimpses beyond . ck of provisions. Rancidbutter melted down in pots, honey, dates, figs,raisins, and one or two similar items form the re-mainder. Water is carried in goat-skins or in potsmade of the dried rind of a gourd, by far the mostconvenient for a journey, owing to their light weightand the absence of the prevailing taste of pitchimparted by the leather contrivances. Several ofthese latter are to be seen before the tents hangingon tripods. One of the Moors informs us that forthe first day on board they have to provide theirown water, after which it is found for them, buteverything else they take with them. An ebony-hued son of Ham, seated by a neighbouring tent, 200 • LIFE IN MOROCCO replies to our query as to what he is providing, I take nothing, pointing heavenward to indicatehis reHance on Divine providence. And so they travel. The group before us hascome from the Sahara, a months long journeyoverland, on foot! Yet their travels have onlycommenced. Can they have realized what it allmeans ?. XXIVRETURNING HOME He lengthened absence, and returned unwelcomed. Moorish Pro7>erb. Evening is about to fall—for fall it does in thesesouth latitudes, with hardly any twilight—and thesetting sun has lit the sky with a refulgent glowthat must be gazed at to be understood—the arc ofheaven overspread with glorious colour, in its turnreflected by the heaving sea. One sound alone isheard as I wend my way along the sandy shore; itis the heavy thud and aftersplash of each giganticwave, as it breaks on the beach, and hurls itself onits retreating predecessor, each climbing one stephisfher than the last. There, in the distance, stands a motley group—men, women, children—straining wearied eyes torecognize the forms which crowd a cargo lighterslowly nearing land. Away in the direction oftheir looks I dimly see the outline of the pilgrimship, a Cardiff coaler, which has brought close on athousand Hajes from Port Said or Alexandria—menchiefly
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