However, the tranquil state of affairs in Great Britain has not yet necessitated one practice, common amongst the youths of the Aït Atta tribe, which we saw going on outside the _ksar_. This consisted in practising escape from an enemy by holding on to the tail of a galloping horse, the rider urging his steed meanwhile to its full pace. It is marvellous what speed can be made in this manner, and it was a sight well worth seeing to watch an old ruffian of the tribe galloping about on his handsome desert horse, with a youth holding on to each stirrup, and another to the tail, and scudding over the ground beside and behind him respectively. This means of retreat is in common practice amongst the tribe of Aït Atta, and soon puts their foot-soldiers, no match against many of the Berber tribes in running, out of distance of their pursuers. We spent the night of November 15 at Ul Turug, and though I found the elevation of the place to be only some 2850 feet above the sea-level, we experienced a sharp frost, and suffered not a little from the cold. In the grey dawn we rose, and, packing our little donkeys with their light burdens, left the _ksar_ as soon as the gates were opened; nor was I sorry to get safely out of a spot that has the reputation of being one of the most fanatical in this portion of the Sahara. CHAPTER IX. OUR ARRIVAL AT TAFILET. With light hearts we set out briskly upon the march, for although we had no hopes of reaching the Sultan’s camp that night, we were determined, unless some unforeseen mishap occurred, to sleep in the district of Tafilet. Our Berber from Dads, whose heart and soul were centred in my success, which I owe not a little to his good management and fidelity, sang loudly as we pushed on through the palm-groves that lie to the east and south of Ul Turug. Pleasant enough the walking was in the cool of the morning with the shady forest of trees around us, but experience had taught us that these oases are never of any very great extent, and surely enough we had soon left cultivation behind and set out upon a twelve-mile trudge over barren desert. It was just at the commencement of this arid plain of Maghrah that we forded the Wad Todghrá, and we could see the spot where it issued by a gorge from the mountains only a mile or two away on the west. Our road lay almost due south now, the corner of Jibel Saghru having been turned; for the track to Tafilet skirts its northern and eastern slopes, where oases exist, in preference to crossing the barren range where water is scarce and food unprocurable,—for there are no settlements in the northern part of Saghru, the valleys only being resorted to after the occasional rains by the shepherds of the Aït Atta tribe. Otherwise the mountains are free to the _muflon_—the Barbary wild sheep—which wander in large flocks over the steeps, safe from molestation alike of sportsmen and wild beasts—for, with the