File:Travels in the Atlas and southern Morocco. A narrative of exploration (1889) (14756315906).jpg

Identifier: travelsinatlasso00thom (find matches)
Title: Travels in the Atlas and southern Morocco. A narrative of exploration
Year: 1889 (1880s)
Authors: Thomson, Joseph, 1858-1895
Subjects: Morocco -- Description and travel Atlas Mountains
Publisher: New York : Longmans, Green, and co.
Contributing Library: University of California Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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ith their fingers, invite us in broken English orFrench to inspect their wares. As we hurry on, wewonder what special curses the Moors have in theirrich rejjertoirc to hurl at the sons of Judah, that wemight learn them for our own future use. It is almost with a sigh of relief that, nearingthe head of the street and the inner gateway of thetown, we come at last upon something genuinelyMoorish. Here a number of women sit huddledtogether, showing, however, a shocking disregard tonative notions of decency by having their witheredfaces exposed while they wait the will of Allah andthe arrival of purchasers of their small stock of eggs,butter, fowls, &c. -^g^, ugliness, dirt, rags, andpoverty are their portion; but nevertheless we lookupon them with more interest and pleasure, thoughnot without a touch of melancholy, than upon theEuropean lady-tourists who ride past us at the momenton what we guess to be diminutive asses, from the pro-minence and shape of the huge ears and the irrepres-
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A STROLL THROUGH TANGIER. 21 slblo wag of the tails, which project from beneath thevoluminous skirts of tluir riders. The disappointment which we have experienced sofar somcwliat disappears as wo pass thiougli the smallmarket-places, the surrounding walls of which form aseries of inner IortificatiDUS. Passing through the outer gateway, we emerge uponthe market-place proper, and are suddenly confrontedwith a seething mass of white-robed ))eople, all in anexcited tremor and movement, and all talking andshouting—nobody apparently listening. The idea is irresistibly suggested that here is avision of what a graveyard would look like at the last(lay, before the newly-risen had Inlly realised theirposition Of had time to divest themselves of theirgrave-clothes, while eagerly demanding of each otherwhere they were and what was going on. Ikit while, from our point of vantage on horseback,we cannot but sit and admire the general effect ofthe striking spectacle—becowled Moors of the town,bla

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