With the exception of these caves I found but little signs of antiquities, the ruins I had been told of before leaving Marakesh turning out to be merely the remains of “_tabia_” _ksor_, the age of which it was impossible to determine. Once allowed to fall out of repair, it takes a very short time for these buildings, constructed with such a soft material, to crumble away, though when properly attended to, and the rain kept off, they seem to last for a great time. One curious ruin exists near Dads, which I was enabled to visit, but I refrain from giving any attempt at a minute description here, as I was unable to take satisfactory measurements. Suffice it to say that it stands on a circular hill of bare rock, and is built of large blocks of stone, without mortar. I attach considerable importance to this ruin, and hope to be able to return on some future occasion and more minutely explore it. The hill is known as Jibel Korah, and is well known to every native of Dads. The ruin has a bad reputation, and is said to be inhabited by devils. A similar building exists near Todghrá, on a rocky slope to the south-west of that oasis. As the roads ahead of us were reported to be infested with robbers, especially deserters from the Sultan’s army which was now at Tafilet, we thought it best to leave behind at the _zauia_ my two mules, and proceeded on our way with only a couple of donkeys, one belonging to the Shereef’s nephew, the other mine. Our party, too, diminished in numbers. The old Shereef had reached his destination, and was to go no farther; his son was a useless creature, and I decided not to take him; while our pilgrim, the devotee of the sect of the Derkauiya, turned aside to seek his home. A good fellow he had been, and heartily sorry I was to lose his company, though he seldom said much or intruded his presence upon us. Yet he was by far and away the most interesting of our little band, and exhibited the strange case of the fanatical devotee, all whose ideas had been overthrown by his pilgrimage to Mecca. His loathing for Christians had received a blow in the kindness of the captain of the steamer he had travelled on, and, in spite of his religious detestation of the “Nazarene,” he confessed to a secret partiality for their character. Before leaving the Sahara, in fact, he had formed his judgment of the whole world on his surroundings and the traditions of his people; but now his eyes were opened, and he was sorely bewildered. Had I dared, I would like to have made a more careful study of this man’s mind and opinions, but it must be remembered that I was passing as a Moslem, and therefore had to be guarded in my conversation.