The morning of June 2 was brilliantly fine, and the sun remained unclouded throughout the day, although the heat was at no time oppressive. At 9.30 A.M. we started for the ascent of the Djebel Hadid, directing our course towards a hollow in the face of the hill, for the most part thickly clothed with bushes, but showing here and there outcropping escarpments of rock that promised a more varied vegetation than the otherwise uniform stony slopes. We at once found that, in comparison with the outer slopes of the Atlas, we had entered into a region botanically new to us. The evergreen oak had disappeared, and the Arbutus, though seen near Aïn el Hadjar, was evidently rare. The _Callitris_, which is abundant near the base of the hill, does not ascend on its flanks, and _Juniperus phœnicea_ was either altogether absent or very rare. In the place of all these there was an extraordinary abundance and variety of spiny bushes, such as made the day’s excursion severely remembered by the destruction of our garments and the multitude of pricks and scratches with which our bodies were covered. _Rhus oxyacantha_ and _R. pentaphylla_, _Celastrus senegalensis_ and the wild olive, with _Genista ferox_ and _G. tridens_, were our chief tormentors, all, except the olive, characteristic North African species, though two or three of them have been detected in Southern Spain or in Sicily. Leaving our horses to be led up the slope, we had hot work in climbing the hill under a sun only a few degrees from the zenith, contending the while with the various thorns and hooks and prickles that molested us on every side. Every forward movement would be resisted by a dozen spines running deep into our legs or arms, and each attempt to draw back by the strong hooks with which some part of our dress was sure to be held fast. When we reached the top of the acclivity we found ourselves on the verge of a very extensive plateau, in some parts nearly dead level, in others undulating, and rising into knolls of tolerably uniform height. Before long we reached a point commanding a wide view over the country on the north side of the range of hills. The slopes below us appeared to be under cultivation, and suggested the presence of a numerous population; but the distant plain of Akermout, lying somewhat east of due north, did not to our eyes afford any sign of cultivation. Jackson gives a view[3] of the Djebel Hadid as seen from the plain of Akermout, with a ruined town in the foreground, which he declares to have been utterly destroyed by the plague about the middle of the last century. The ruins, which have been seen by other travellers, being about 30 miles distant from Mogador and fully 15 from the point where we stood, were naturally not perceived by us.