Leaving the plain of Maghrah one enters the oasis of Tiluin, a branch of the tribe of Aït Merghad. Twice previously on the way hither we had seen other settlements and oases belonging to these people, once near the end of the gorge of Imin Erkilim, near Todghrá, and again to the north-east of Ferkla, not many miles from Gheris. Here, just on the northern extremity of the oasis, are the ruins of a large _kasba_, or possibly _ksar_, the bare high _tabia_ walls of which wear to-day a melancholy appearance. Opposite, on the top of a rocky hill, once apparently stood a large village; now nothing but crumbling heaps of stones and _tabia_ mark its site. A few hundred yards only beyond this spot, and amongst the palm-trees, stood some saints’ tombs, the largest whitewashed and in good repair. Nothing could have been prettier than the picture they formed—the white domes against the rich green of the trees. At a stream of running water, on the very banks of which the tombs were situated, were a party of soldiers bivouacking. They had lit a small fire and were cooking tea, the sunlight falling in bright spots on their polished trays and brass kettle, the crimson and scarlet saddles of their tethered horses, and their bright clothing. The bit of colour was charming, for all through the desert one longs for something brilliant. It is quite a mistake to imagine that colour is to be found in such countries—in fact, the whole of Morocco is almost devoid of it. In the desert especially the absence of anything bright becomes almost oppressive in time. The sky takes a heated white appearance, only a shade or two different in colour from the white glowing sand. Any figures, or life of any sort that may appear, but alters the tones of the landscape; for so covered is everything with the white dust, and so fierce is the glare of the sun, that at a distance the shadows only appear, and they as hard black patches. The natives, with the exception of the indigo-blue cotton of the women, wear no coloured garments, and even the women’s costume appears black against so light a background. It may be imagined, then, how to our weary eyes the little group of soldiers formed a pleasing picture; but, tempting as it was, we did not dare accept their cordial invitation to join them in their meal, lest my disguise should be discovered; for it is a very different matter to deceive the Berber, who has never seen a European, and generally imagines him to be some kind of a wild beast in appearance, to attempting to do so in the case of Arabs of Morocco proper, who know well the Christian type, and would discover at once the presence of a foreign accent in one’s speech. So with many regrets to be obliged to refuse the proffered drink of tea and hard-boiled eggs and bread, we pushed on, driving our little donkeys before us with sharp cries. Through the palm-groves we passed, until issuing again, we crossed the narrow strip of desert that separates the oasis of Tiluin from that of