Ten miles from Ferkla the road takes a turn to the south, and enters a valley of Jibel Saghru, to which range, since leaving Dads, we had been travelling parallel. Through this valley the Wad Todghrá flows, dividing the range into two parts, that on the east being known as Jibel el Kebir, “the great mountain,” though why it is difficult to say, as both in extent and altitude it is considerably smaller than the hills of Saghru on the west and south. It was with no little pleasure that we entered the valley, barren though it was in most parts, for any relief was acceptable after the interminable arid desert we had been crossing for the last six or seven days of our journey. Two villages lie near the northern end, Igli and Maroksha, both inhabited by the Berber tribe of Aït Khalifa, representatives of whom we had not as yet come across. Igli is a most picturesque spot, crowning a knoll in the very centre of the valley, the summit surmounted by a huge tower. With this exception the village is not fortified, though its position above the level of the surrounding land renders it easy of defence. Maroksha lies on the level ground, half-hidden amongst groves of palms, irrigated from the stream of the Wad Todghrá. From Ferkla this river flows slightly to the north of east, the road being some miles on its south side, until almost due north of Igli the stream takes a directly southerly course to enter the valley between Saghru and Jibel el Kebir, half a mile perhaps to the east of the village. A mile to the south of Igli we crossed the dry bed of a tributary of the Todghrá, flowing from Jibel Saghru, and, fording the main stream a few hundred yards farther on, entered the groves of Milaab, which are protected on the west by a tower perched on a rocky projection. The road at the ford resumes its former easterly direction, the river flowing a little more to the south. Although Milaab is but a small place, I think I saw nowhere else such attention paid to the cultivation of the soil and the date-palm. The road for the mile and a half that it threaded the groves was delightful. On either side of the straight level track ran little canals of fresh clear water, beyond which stretched away a forest of feathery palm-trees. The whole scene resembled more a botanical garden than a desert oasis, so evenly were the trees planted and so well tilled the soil, which, green with _fsa_—lucerne—resembled a level lawn. The exact distance between each palm seems to have been carefully measured, so that, look which way one would, one’s sight wandered down long avenues of the straight stems and luxuriant leaves.