Although geographers claim for the many ranges that occur between Morocco and Tripoli the name of Atlas, it must not be thought that a continuous line of peaks extends from one point to the other; for, speaking of the Moroccan portion, it ends more or less abruptly where the plains of Beni Mgil occur, to the western side of the Wad Muluya, the river which runs into the Mediterranean near the frontier of Algeria and Morocco. In fact, it is not far to the east of Fez that the peaks decrease in altitude, falling away to the long plains which succeed. From this point, however, south and westward they extend in unbroken line to near the ocean, taking a general direction of south-west and then west. The entire portion from Fez, from which the snow-peaks inhabited by the Beni Mgild and Aït Yussi are visible, to but a little way beyond Demnat, some fifty odd miles to the due east of Marakesh, is unexplored, the nature of the succession of Berber tribes inhabiting its slopes rendering it inaccessible to the traveller. From Demnat to the Atlantic the tribes are less wild, and live in greater fear of punishment from the Government in the case of molestation of Europeans, with the result that not only the explorer but even the most casual globe-trotter can travel in safety, and enjoy the grand scenery which presents itself. Yet how few Europeans ever go! I have already described the appearance of the Atlas Mountains from the north, and farther on in the narrative of my journey more than one allusion [Illustration: _The Atlas Mountains from the South._] will be found to the barren scene they present from the south. It may be here added, however, as a general remark on this portion of the range, that while the northern slopes contain fine wooded valleys, their lower parts rich in olive and fruit trees, the south stretches away, a dreary waste of stone and shales, presenting no feature of beauty beyond its gloomy grandeur. The reason is not far to find, for the desert wind in summer blows in terrific gusts, drying up what soil does exist, while little or no rain ever falls. This very scorching wind it is that renders so fertile the northern valleys and the plain beyond, in which Marakesh lies, for, following the slope of the mountains to the altitude of their highest peaks—and the range must hereabout average nearly 11,000 feet above the sea—the wind is transformed by the change of temperature into cloud, and falls in heavy showers. The difference as one ascends the luxuriant northern slopes, where fine vegetation is found to the altitude of some 5000 to 7000 feet, to the scene that meets the eye when the summit is crossed, is a most extraordinary one, and from the Tizi n’Glawi, the pass over which I crossed, one could obtain the two views at the same time—north, down the deep valley of the Ghadat, with its woods and forests; south, over range beyond range of bare limestone and shale mountains.