structures of the _Drosera_ and _Menyanthes_, and bog-asphodel, and many another inhabitant of our northern bogs—these and countless other images are instantaneously revived by contact with the specimen that grew beside them. Strangest of all is, perhaps, the enduring nature of this connection. Often does it happen, as many a botanist can testify, that after a lapse of a quarter, nay, even half, a century, the sight of a specimen will bring back the picture, seemingly effaced long ago, of its original home. We were on foot again at 5.30 A.M., May 24, and the order for departure went forth. But, as usual, there were unexpected causes for delay. Many sick came to invoke Hooker’s medical skill, some trifling presents were to be distributed, and finally word was brought that the Kaïd meant to accompany us for some distance on our day’s journey, and it was necessary to await his appearance. Among the articles provided for presents we had included scissors and needles; but such things, especially the needles, were everywhere disregarded by the natives, whether Moor or Shelluh; and it appeared that the art of sewing, as well as every other occupation requiring the slightest manual dexterity, is—at least in country places—exclusively practised by the Jews; to them, accordingly, such gifts were very welcome. In the larger towns there are, of course, many handicrafts, and notably the making of slippers and boots, practised by the Moors; but such trades are for the most part hereditary in certain families, and the ordinary Moor affects to despise all occupations of the kind. At half-past eight the Kaïd appeared, mounted on a strong serviceable horse; and, everything being ready, we rode down the steep bank above which stands the town of Amsmiz, and, after following the torrent for a short distance, reascended to about the same level above the left bank. We now found ourselves on the verge of a wide open plain, sloping gently from south to north, and our course to Mzouda—the next stage in our journey—lay a little north of due west, while the outer range of the mountains trended away to S.W. We had been led to suppose that Mzouda lay, like Amsmiz, at the foot of the Great Atlas, and might therefore serve as starting-point for another excursion into its recesses; but it was now clear that it must stand far out in the plain, many miles from the nearest range of hills. We were somewhat comforted, however, by the positive assurance that Seksaoua, the next stopping-place beyond Mzouda, stands close to the mountains at the opening of a considerable valley, and was therefore a promising spot for our purposes.