The origin of these cones is easy to find. As each town was founded, the group of elders whose duty it was to carry out this rite first of all built the mosque on a hilltop; this mosque was at the same time a store for food and arms as well as a fortress. Consequently the people grouped themselves on the slopes beneath. This again is evidence of the great antiquity of the race, for is it not known that all early religious orders frequented heights and that nowadays theosophists refer a great deal to the influence of high places on their mysticism? The effect is very curious, and even if the aspect of the people does not create an impression, their architecture surely will. Descending from the eminence on which is situated the _bordj_, a narrow street will be followed, which suddenly leads out into a broad square, surrounded by unsymmetrical arcades. If the _caïd_ is at home he will probably permit the visitor to mount to his roof and look down on this animated center and up toward the tall minaret. In the middle of the square is a kind of stone stage where, on certain days, justice is administered, while close by will be seen a curious group of stones set out in a horseshoe formation. This strange circle marks the site where the elders of the city first sat down in the open plain a thousand years ago to found Ghardaïa. Leaving the square, the route to take is up a narrow street leading direct to the mosque. The houses almost meet, and in certain places the alley is tunneled through the habitations. A narrow passage leads up to the mosque, and if one has a competent guide a dark chamber can be visited which is a place of ablution, but which, in days gone by, was the scene of political conspiracies. The mosque itself is quite unlike anything one has seen before. The pillars are neither Turkish nor Roman, the architecture has no sort of connection with any known style. In the wall are holes to place shoes before going into the sanctuary to pray; hanging from the roof is a skin full of water, the greatest sign of charity in this country where water is more valuable than gold. Above, a kind of cage covered in with wire netting, reminding one of a chicken-run or rabbit-hutch, leaves one wondering. A hundred guesses will not elucidate the mystery—it is the lost-property office! Climbing on to the roof, a panoramic view of the town spreads itself below. To the east the Jewish quarter, with a curious pyramid-like synagogue; to the west the Arab quarter, with an insignificant mosque; to the south the more modern buildings, with the house of the White Fathers, while away in the distance can be seen the beginning of the great oasis, brilliant green against the barren hills. If one is lucky one may see from here the strange sight of a man selling his house. There he stands on the roof while the would-be purchasers squat round making bids.