AMONG THE DJINNS
THE next day, at an early hour, Mahomet came for us in an open carriage equipped with a linen canopy to shelter us from the sun. We left the town by the Fez gate and for some time rode along past the homes of the rich people of Tlemsen, their villas covered by rambling vines of every description in full bloom and surrounded by well-kept gardens, quiet and shady. As the road mounted, we passed a beautiful building that serves as the cavalry barracks. Beyond it towered the chain of the Tlemsen range, here emerald green and there a warm pink, with its skyline of rounded curves sketched against the pale green of the early morning. Mountain streams, bordered by a heavier and darker vegetation, cut the slopes with white broken lines. At some points one could see on the summits gleaming kuhbas, with the mouths of caves opening on the slopes below them. Smoke issuing from these grottoes showed that they were being used as dwellings. There was no difference here between Hadars and Kuluglis, as in these caves there reign special laws, special traditions, special saints and a magic art, even more heathenish than that of the towns. Flocks of sheep and herds of cattle grazed on the mountain, while
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