The day was already far gone—nearly two o’clock in the afternoon—when, leaving our horses at the village, we started on foot, with our sheik as guide, descending slightly to the level of the stream, here easily crossed, and then mounting the slope on the west side of the main branch of the valley in the direction of one of the nearest of the patches of snow already seen by us. No guide was needed, for the lower slopes on either side were easily accessible in all directions; but the sheik evidently wished to fulfil in person the promise of ‘leading us to the snow.’ Difficulty there was none, except that of moving onward over ground where every step brought to view some fresh object of interest. It was clear that we had at last reached the threshold of the _terra incognita_ that we had so long dreamed of—the subalpine region of the Great Atlas. There could be no doubt that in the short space between the lower village and Arround—that is, between the lower end of the ancient moraine and the ground formerly covered by glacier—the flora had undergone a complete change. Nearly all the peculiar species which we had hitherto looked on as characteristic of the Great Atlas had disappeared, and their place was occupied in part by others peculiar to this region, and not known elsewhere; but more largely by species either identical or nearly allied to well-known mountain plants of the Mediterranean region, along with some of the common plants of middle Europe, including several familiar British field plants.