But besides the question of the succession, there were others as momentous, if not more so, to be considered. The camp was placed within the district of the Tedla regions, against whom the Sultan had intended to wage war; and the fact that he was dead, and that the camp would be left without any leader, would bring down an attack of the tribes and the sacking of the entire camp, if not the murder also of the Viziers and officials. Nor was the army to be trusted: Mulai Abdul Aziz was at Rabat, still some eight days’ fast marching distant, and in those eight days who knew what course events might take? A hurried meeting of the Viziers was called; an oath of secrecy taken; the drums were beaten for a start to be made; and, to every one’s astonishment and surprise, orders were given for a move, the reason affirmed being that the Sultan had sufficiently recovered to travel. The palanquin which always accompanied his Majesty was taken into the enclosure; the Sultan’s body was placed within, the doors closed, and, amidst the obeisances and acclamations of the camp, all that remained of Mulai el Hassen set out for Rabat. Not a soul knew of the Sultan’s death except the Viziers and a few of the slaves and tent-pitchers, whose mouths were sealed, knowing that death would ensue if they told. The river Um er-Ribia was crossed, and a halt called on its right bank, near a spot known as the Brouj Beni Miskin. Meanwhile messengers had been secretly sent to Rabat to announce the Sultan’s death and the accession of Mulai Abdul Aziz, to support whom the Viziers had all sworn. The following day an early start was made, the dead Sultan still being carried in the usual position, with the flags and insignia of the Sultanate preceding him. As they passed along, the tribes-people are said to have kissed the palanquin, and one or two people of importance to have been allowed to see the Sultan within, whose ill-health was given as an excuse for his not speaking. At the middle of the day a halt was called for his Majesty to take breakfast, a tent pitched, the palanquin carried within, and food and green tea cooked, taken into the tent, and brought out again as if it had been tasted by the Sultan. As yet no one knew besides the Viziers and the handful of slaves that Mulai el Hassen was dead. The military band played outside his tent, and all the usual customs which were carried out when he lived were continued. But in a hot climate like that of Morocco in June a secret of this sort cannot be long kept, and on their arrival in camp, after a ten hours’ march, on Thursday, June 7, it was announced that the Sultan was dead, and that messengers had left the day before for the capitals, announcing the accession of Mulai Abdul Aziz. The proclamation called upon the people and soldiers to follow the desire of their deceased master, and to support the Viziers in their intention of seeing Mulai Abdul Aziz succeed.