Struggling against sleep, we diligently worked at our plants till long past midnight, and then, at length, sought rest after our first day’s journey in South Marocco. On the morning of April 30, we were up betimes, and had an opportunity of viewing the _kasbah_. It is a large pile of building, enclosed by a high wall, within which there is space for great numbers of horses, camels, and domestic animals of all kinds, with dwellings for the numerous retainers and rooms for guests, all separate from the central block which forms the residence of the great man, his family, and personal attendants. Except that it is mainly built of _tapia_, or blocks of mud, rammed into square moulds and hardened in the sun, this and other similar buildings in Marocco differ little from the castles which the semibarbarous feudal chiefs inhabited throughout a great part of Europe in the so-called ages of chivalry, and down to the beginning of the last century. A more extended acquaintance with the country afterwards showed further points of comparison. There is not one of these _kasbahs_ that has not been the scene of atrocious deeds of cruelty and treachery, such as we find in the records of most of our mediæval strongholds. When we shudder at tales of Moorish atrocities we are apt to forget that they merely disclose an anachronism, no way surprising in a country that has stood altogether aloof from the influences that have brought Europe to a condition of relative civilisation. The _kasbah_ of Shedma is well placed, on nearly flat ground, at the summit of one of the highest of the undulating hills that intervene between the coast and the great plain of Marocco, standing, by our measurements, 1,430 feet (436 mètres) above the sea level. The view over the gently heaving surface of the lower hills to the south was very pleasing. The slopes covered with short herbage, the green now beginning to turn brown and yellow, are studded with trees, chiefly Argan, olive, and fig, sometimes in clumps, sometimes dotted over the surface. Close to us, adjoining the gate of the _kasbah_, were several very fine Argan trees just coming into flower. We were rather late in this morning’s start, and it was near 9 A.M. when, after the tents and luggage were packed, we got under way, accompanied by our host of last night, the Governor’s son, who volunteered to show us his father’s garden, of which he was evidently proud. We rode down the hill, and soon reached a place called the ‘Tuesday Market’ (Souk el Tleta), beside which we were to inspect the first example we met of Moorish horticulture. The enclosed space, about an acre in extent, was divided into oblong beds, in which the only cultivated flowers were roses and marigolds, growing amidst an abundant growth of weeds. Along with these we noticed several beds of mint, which is in constant requisition for mixing with green tea.