summit that would give us a view down upon the whole town. Picking our way up over stones that had been smoothed and polished by the tread of thousands of pilgrims visiting the zaouia of Idris, we were rewarded at the top by finding the whole town at our feet, with its terraces of roofs and the minaret shining like an emerald among them.
A young native, appearing, as it were, right out of the earth itself, and saluting us politely, addressed us in excellent French. It developed that he was a son of one of the noble families of the town and that he had communicated to our chauffeur, who had made much better time to the summit, his dream that one day he might meet a writer from some foreign land who would poetically describe his native city for the outside world. In response our driver had told him that "a writer" was just then blowing and puffing his way up the steep side of the spur to see the unusually located town from this vantage-point.
I promised the young patriot to "describe poetically" his city as best my powers might permit; and now, as I reflect over the task he has set me, I have decided that I shall come closest to meeting his wishes, if I record what the young Arab himself told me and in his own style.
"Merciful Allah be praised! He, the Great and Compassionate, brought glory to this place. Twelve centuries ago on these two summits were two Berber villages, which fought each other in the saddle in merciless vendetta between the two points and looked upon each other as eternal enemies. Once an unknown wanderer came to these villages and, in response to the questions as to whence he had come, he pointed to the east and said:
