And, finally, we cling to the delusion that Barbary, though doubtless colorful and picturesque, is deficient in monuments of historical or architectural interest, and that the facilities provided for the comfort of the traveler are limited and somewhat crude. Let me remark, by way of answering this objection, that Tunisia is as thickly strewn with Roman ruins as Italy itself; that the scenery of the Grand Kabylia and the High Atlas is as impressive as any in Switzerland; that the mosques and towers and palaces of Morocco were built by the same race which raised the Alhambra and the Alcázar; that the network of motor-roads which cover Barbary compare very favorably with the best highways we have in the United States; and that the hotels which have sprung up all the way from Tunis to Marrákesh are not far removed in luxury from the great tourist hostelries of Florida and California. Extremely misleading too have been the pictures of political conditions in North Africa as drawn by certain members of self-styled “American missions,” who have visited the country at the invitation of the government, have been dazzled by fêtes and flatteries, and have swallowed the propaganda assiduously fed them by their hosts. I yield to none in my admiration for what France has achieved in North Africa, but to assert, as have certain American visitors, that the natives are contented with French rule and would give their life’s blood to defend it is to take wholly unjustifiable liberties with the truth. It is to correct the current misapprehensions in regard to Barbary, some of which are alluded to above, that I have written this book. I am perfectly aware that the countries to which the following pages are devoted have been treated of many times, and that my pages contain nothing that is startling, little that is really new. But I can at least make this claim for my book, that it is the only one, so far as I am aware, which brings the whole of French North Africa, its history, peoples, customs, places of interest, resources, and politics, between two covers. During my last two or three visits to Barbary I have been struck by the lack of such a book, and I have designed this one to fill a needed want. Though I have used my last African journey, which occupied the winter, spring, and early summer of 1925, as a thread on which to string the incidents and impressions recorded in the ensuing chapters, it should be explained that much of my information was gathered during earlier visits, dating back to the early years of the present century. Hence I am in a position to make comparisons. For it has been my great good fortune to have seen the preliminary sketches as well as the completed picture. I was in the Sahara when it was still “the Last Frontier”; I knew Morocco as it was a decade before the white helmets came.