ACROSS WATERLESS RIVERS
AT four the next morning we were already off in an excellent limousine from Ujda through Tasa to the sultan's capital, the Mecca of African Islam—to Fez, a city of mystery, political intrigue, living saints, erudite theologians and Moorish science developed to its highest point We started in the full darkness that reigns when dawn is still far away. The immense car, slashing the velvet of the night with its great shears of light, twisted and turned through the labyrinths of Ujda streets, scattering with its horn the strings of donkeys and camels on their way to the early morning market.
Once out on the open road, the chauffeur put on speed and carried us like some phantom racers with the dawn past the houses and buildings of sleeping colonists until we left these all behind and found ourselves coursing a stony desert At daybreak we could see ahead of us a barren, dead plain, cut by a strategic narrow-gauge railway, stretching away to the horizon. Along the highway are located at intervals stations with supplies of gasoline, oil and water, while garages equipped for repairs are to be found in the larger villages. Auto-transportation companies, maintaining a mixed service of light passenger
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