He spoke openly to me, for to the day he left us at Dads to turn aside to his home, he never knew I was a Christian and a European, and often we prayed together by the roadside. There remains but one more man to mention, my servant Mohammed er-Rifi, who followed me faithfully throughout the long journey, and returned with me to Tangier to commence again the humdrum existence of waiting at table and sweeping floors. An excellent youth he is, all good nature and smiles, strong and trustworthy, but preferring the luxuries and warmth of my kitchen to sharing the hardships of a desert tramp of several hundred miles. However, he never complained until the end of the journey, and then, arrived once more in Marakesh, he cursed the desert, and all that in it is, with all the curses he could muster—a very tolerable lot, on the whole. However, I cannot speak too highly of his fidelity and of the patience with which he bore what must have been to him a most terrible journey—nor forget to say that at times he hints that he and I should set out afresh for pastures new. I have entered somewhat at length into the characters and description of my men, but some word of praise is only due to them; for had I not been surrounded by a faithful and uncomplaining band, my success in reaching Tafilet would never have come about. The usual delays occurred in Marakesh before we got started once more, this time again the fault of the old Shereef, who wanted to buy presents to take to his relations at Dads,—the existence of whom, although he had two wives and quite a number of children there, he had apparently forgotten for several years,—and could not decide what to purchase. So having found quarters for my men and my mules, I determined to enjoy the last few days of rest and plenty that I was destined to know for several months. [Illustration: _From Saffi, to Morocco City: a weekly Market._] CHAPTER II. MARAKESH. I had already several times visited Marakesh, or Morocco City, and had therefore no difficulty in finding my way all over the town, through the streets of which, ruinous as they are, it is always a pleasure to pass; for all kinds and species of human beings congregate in this southern capital of the empire, from the fair mountaineer to the swarthy negro from Timbuctu and the Sudan, from the rich merchant of Fez to the lithe shy Berber of the snow-clad peaks of Mount Atlas. But before I speak of the inhabitants and the strange sights to be seen within the city, some general description of the place must be given.