They were a sorry set of fellows enough, to outward seeming, but how shall a European judge them fairly?  Stevenson says in one of his Essays, “Justice is not done to the versatility and the unplumbed childishness of man’s imagination.  His life from without may seem but a rude mound of mud; there will be some golden chamber at the heart of it, in which he dwells delighted; and for as dark as his pathway seems to the observer, he will have some kind of bull’s-eye at his belt.”  So, doubtless, had I had the eyes that see below the surface, these hardy traders, the best of whose hopes and actions were hidden from me, would have been no less interesting than the Maalem or the young shareef.

In view of the disturbed state of the country I thought of having a few extra guards, but finding the two already engaged sleeping peacefully before our tent was closed, it seemed likely that a couple of sleeping men would be as useful as four.  I fear they had a troubled night, for though the “Sons of Lions” did not trouble us, a short, sharp shower came with the small hours and woke the poor fellows, who asked for extra money in the morning by way of consolation for their broken rest.  By five o’clock we were astir, and soon after we were on the road again, bound for the village of Hanchen, where a small Sok Thalata[49] is held.  After a brief mid-day rest we reached the outskirts of the Argan Forest.

This great forest is quite the distinctive feature of Southern Morocco.  The argan tree, that gives a name to it, is the indigenous olive of the country, and is found only in the zone between the Tensift river and the river Sus.  Argan wood is exceedingly hard and slow growing, thus differing materially from the olive, to which it seems so nearly related.  The trunk divides low down, sometimes within six feet of the roots, and the branches grow horizontally.  If the Moors are right, the age of the elders of the forest is to be counted in centuries, and the wood can defy the attacks of insects that make short-work of other trees.  The leaves of the argan recall those of the olive, but have even a lighter silvery aspect on the underside; the fruit is like the olive, but considerably larger, and is sought after by many animals.  Goats climb among the branches in search of the best nuts.  Camels and cows will not pass an argan tree if given the slightest chance to linger.  The animals that eat the nuts reject their kernels, and the Moors collect these in order to extract the oil, which is used in cooking, for lighting purposes, and as medicine.  After extraction the pulp is eagerly accepted by cattle, so no part of the valued fruit is wasted.  One of the giants of the forest, said to be four hundred years old, has before now given shade to a regiment of soldiers; I saw for myself that the circumference of its branches was more than two hundred feet.

[Illustration:  COMING FROM THE MOSQUE, HANCHEN]