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“Moorish Country Life,” from The Moors: A Comprehensive Description by Budgett Meakin, 1902.

Considering the large proportion of the Moors who still dwell in tents, when compared to those who inhabit houses in towns, and the much larger proportion who occupy settled villages of huts and mud-built cabins, it is strange that writers on this country have devoted so little attention to these classes. Much has, indeed, been written on their picturesque aspect, and somewhat too on their unfortunate condition, but a serious study has yet to be made of their inner life, and the points wherein their habits and institutions differ from those better known in the towns.

Unfortunately, after one's first interested glances at the Moorish country-folk, what little attraction there is in them disappears, as they are found to be in the words of a skilful writer, ''simply pastoral, simply poetical, simply filthy," but the people themselves, underneath the dirt, would well repay the closer attention of a sympathetic student. Another reason for their neglect is the assumption that the life of the Arab nomad, wherever found, is practically identical, and that the difference is slight between countrymen and the townsmen. Both these suppositions are to a certain extent correct, but there still remains sufficient originality in the North African country-folk to repay the attention of one conversant with the life of their eastern counterparts. In Algeria much has already been done in this direction, but in Morocco the task has not yet been attempted.

Foreign visitors, though seldom treated with incivility along the main tracks, are never made warmly welcome unless old friends. No race is more easy to get on with when humoured a bit, like so many children, none is more ready to return kindness for kindness or spite for spite. In villages removed from the main tracks there is more bigotry and fanaticism to lead the people to resent intrusion, while in those more frequently invaded, familiarity has bred contempt, and hardly courtesy is shown to Europeans entering their precincts. This is not, however, from any ill-will, but from wisdom born of experience that the less they have to do with foreigners—Nazarenes they call them indiscriminately—the better for themselves.

The more Europeans they see the less they are welcome, because some bring letters from the authorities which they construe into orders for provender not to be paid for, though supplied by people on the verge of starvation. Strangers can well afford to despise the dwellings and customs of the natives as they stroll inquisitively round the village, poking their noses unceremoniously here and there—if they do not hold them too high in the air—criticizing their novel surroundings in a way that is evident enough to disgust even those who know not a word they say, yet when it comes to paying for what they have been so ready to eat (not to speak of tea and candles) too often they find that they cannot afford that!

Picturesque and poetical though it may be, the life of the nomad is not an ideal life. The very freedom from restraint, and the constant restlessness, preclude encouragement in art or science, or development in social administration, stability being indispensable for the growth of civilization. Men whose struggle with the elements is severe and unceasing, whose migrations are uncertain and frequent, cannot be expected to pay much attention to the refinements of life, or to the accumulation of unnecessary property, and it is not to be wondered at that the lesson taught by the nomads is how much we can do without.

After the in-gathering of the crops, and the conclusion of the other agricultural operations of the season, the encampment may at any time be changed. Every belonging having been loaded on the backs of beasts of burden, or even of human beings, the whole tribe will set off in search of pastures new, to settle at a spot already selected. As Morocco contains few large unappropriated districts, and the sphere of each tribe has been limited by custom and its neighbours, these migrations are not often to great distances, and are chiefly undertaken in search of pasturage or to avoid a foe. Two or three days' journey is generally the limit, as the country is fertile, and often the only motive for a change is to secure a clean camping-ground.

In spring moves are commonly made northwards, or nearer to towns for the disposal of produce, but the Arab thinks nothing of a day's journey in search of water, so long as grass is plentiful. When a desirable spot becomes a bone of contention between two tribes, they do not hesitate to "let the powder speak,"' and often by their kinships and alliances inflame a whole province.

It is a mistake to suppose that the nomads of Morocco owe their existence to the Mohammedan invasion in the early years of the eighth century. Even the genuine Arabs among them are not descendants of the invaders, but of tribes imported in the eleventh and twelfth centuries of our era, and according to native authors, many, if not all, of the Berbers themselves, were originally nomadic; it is probable that they had not all become stationary when the first Arabs arrived. Large numbers of the Berbers, as we know from the same sources, became "Arabicized," and it is possible that some of the tribes now speaking Arabic only, are in part, if not altogether, of Berber blood. There are, however, no great nomad tribes in Morocco of a strength to defy the settled power, as the policy of the Moorish Government has always been their subdivision and dissemination, so that to-day one encounters fractions of the principal tribes in all parts of the country, and the majority know no tribal cohesion.

The Arab tent is a most wonderfully comprehensive institution, often sheltering beneath its simple roof not only its owner's immediate family, but sometimes a considerable circle of relatives. Thus I have known a patriarchal native and his wife sharing their abode with three daughters—one a widow with two sons, one with a husband and two daughters, the third with a husband, three daughters and a son—fifteen in all. Cases sometimes occur in which a man with four wives has about a dozen married children, but unless among the very poor, these usually manage to make homes for themselves. Thus the number of immediate relatives with which each is surrounded is appalling, but such numbers mean strength and protection, and the Arab household is self-contained, depending on very little outside its own circle.

Each well-to-do nomad possesses all the requisites of life, food, clothes and transport. His camels not only carry his wives, children and tent, but feed them: his cows enable him to sell two or three jars of butter, and his fowls a basket of eggs weekly: his sheep will give him twenty-five lambs annually beyond what he consumes: the wool from them gives him from four to six haiks and a carpet: his barley feeds his cattle when vegetation ceases, and some of it is sown to produce and make his kesk'soo. When travelling, he leaves his grain stored in matmorahs beneath the ground, or in the hands of people settled in k'surs, who retain a tenth as their remuneration, and he goes off with a light heart seeking for pasture. The real nomads of the south do not plough, and carry little grain with them, the only Arab agriculturalists being those of the north, where there are also fixed tent villages.

Few of the encampments of Morocco—called duars or "circles"—are of great size, such as may be met with in Arabia, consisting rather of detached groups of a dozen or twenty tents, or in exceptional circumstances up to a hundred, acknowledging a sheikh or elder as common head and kaid over the whole tribe. For purposes of taxation these authorities are recognized by the Government, but some of the tribes are under the jurisdiction of the provincial governors, as is usually the case also with the Jibala or Hillsmen [s. Jibli). Most of the encampments are found off the main tracks, if possible in a hollow, or on some gentle slope sheltered from the wind. From the distance they appear mere black lines on the horizon; their roofs are so low that one has to approach fairly near before the individual tents can be distinguished.

The Morocco Arabs are not to be feared by strangers who would visit them; such will find them hospitable and agreeable, although if they saw a chance of robbing any who were not their guests, they would not hesitate to seize it. On drawing near to a duar, its shape is seldom found to be regular, but the tents are always grouped with their open sides towards a common centre, in which are tethered or herded at night their four-footed possessions. Loudbarking watch-dogs do the patrol, except when a foe is known to be near, when a regular watch is maintained. Often at night it is only the yelp of distant dogs that guides the traveller to the encampment, and by the time he approaches, their noise is deafening, in spite of the blows and curses of their owners, intended to silence them. Between sunrise and sunset scarcely any but women, children and old men will be found at home, all others being at work in the fields, or away with the cattle or sheep.

Their tents are not inviting residences. The broad roof of home-spun cloth, a brown-and-black mixture of goat and camel-hair, palmetto and other vegetable fibres, rough and coarse, is stretched out from twenty to forty feet across a ridge-pole and two lower side-poles to strong stakes in the ground, which it does not reach. The back and walls are of similar material separately stretched, supplemented by bundles of brush-wood and thistles standing on end, outside which is piled a circle of brambles. When the wind and rain beat in from the front, the inmates hang up blankets to protect themselves, but it is generally left open by day. One half of the interior is almost always reserved for the women, a partition against which is piled the family baggage being stretched across the centre. The cost of such a dwelling in northern Morocco will only be $20 to $30, say £3 to £4, so each married couple secures a separate establishment, if nothing more than an extension of the parent tent. Sometimes a hut (nuallah or kabbusah—"caboose") beside the main tent will serve this purpose.

The contents of the average dwelling (khaimah) are neither numerous nor valuable. The largest and most important article is the upright loom against the partition, an extremely primitive affair at which one or other of the women works most of the day. Near the entrance a few blackened stones by an ashy hole mark the fire-place, if a good-sized pipkin (bormah) be not simmering upon them, while hard by are the hand-mill, and a wooden trough (gessa) for the preparation of kesk'soo. A few more jars and basins, a sieve or two; a tiny three-cornered lamp of clay, a spindle and distaff; perhaps also a brass tray with glasses and teapot; a leather-covered trunk of best clothes, a few leather bags (mizwid) used as cushions; at night a wooden plough and occasionally a few hoes and sickles: these complete the furniture. Coin or valuables usually find a place quite underground, but butter is kept in yonder goat-skins (shikwan), and corn in those sacks (sullah).

Such are the objects in view, not to speak of the half-clothed urchins rolling about, or their elders busied in household duties, and fowls making free of the whole. Calves, lambs and donkeys also sometimes share the sleeping accommodation, the only special provision for the bipeds being palmetto mats on heather or brushwood laid on the trodden earth floor.

Many villages are to be found in which huts have begun to supplant the tents, or tents to eke out the huts. The better class huts or tents are distinguished by the introduction of small luxuries in imitation of the towns, such as brass trays, copper kettles, tea-things, cushions, mattresses and crockery.

From sunrise to sunset, often before and after as well, the inhabitants are at work, for they have little temptation to over-sleep in the quarters described, and without anticipated recreation of mind or body they see no reason to hasten their tasks. As soon as the cock crows for the third time during the night the Arab housewife knows it is the hour to rise, and praises God, because taught by the doctors of Islam that when a cock crows it has seen an angel, and that the interpretation of its cry is "Commemorate God, O ye negligent!" Soon all will be bustle and noise, except where her husband slumbers apart, wrapped in his woollen mantle. If a donkey wishes his friends good day, she duly exclaims "I take refuge with God from Satan the stoned," because taught that when the donkey brays he has seen a devil. Then begin her duties for the day.

First she has carefully to count out the flocks to the shepherds, among whom are her elder sons and daughters, if the former are not attending school. One or two of them probably carry reeds of their own manufacture, or equally primitive banjos, to while away the time, for the Moor is essentially musical. The elder girls have their spindles and distaffs, wherewith to spin the handfuls of wool tucked into the openings of their dresses. Away they go, in different directions, fasting, but with a lump of bread for lunch: for water they have the brooks and wells they pass, and when they return at night they will find ready for them the one square meal of the day.

When they are despatched, their mothers light the fire and boil the barley meal, or make the bread in large round cakes, all heavy and scorched, cooked in earthen pans on the fire. Then they have their weaving to do, to make new garments for their families, or perhaps a new roof for the home.

Presently the husband awakes, and as the sun rises eats his scanty breakfast before going out to work. It is the duty of the men to sleep but lightly during the night, to be ready at any moment to sally forth when the bark of the dogs bespeaks danger, so that their best sleep comes when the others are stirring. Well know they from long years of practice what is about if the dogs give warning, whether a distant foot-step or a prowling beast, or whether a robber discovered close at hand, when their loud vociferation wakes the whole village.

Left alone, the ladies snatch a moment for their toilette, without which even a Moorish woman would not be happy. A hasty rinsing of face and hands, a little antimony laid along the eyelid and drawn out to give the eye an almond shape: a little yellow-red henna-leaf paste on the finger-tips, and then sometimes their pearly teeth are given a rub up and down with the frayed end of a piece of walnut root,—but never across, as too many unenlightened English folk do, for do not the Arabs know that Satan brushes his teeth that way? Now for a peep in the little tin-backed mirror so highly prized, with which a Moorish woman on no account likes to part, and the toilette is complete. For the last few weeks they have not undressed, so their clothes do not give them much trouble, the most they need at such times is a careful hunt in one another's heads and garments for troublesome visitors, and our friends are "dressed for the afternoon."

When the feasts of their religion come round, or someone is born, or married or buried, or when some official jubilation takes place, the Moorish country-folk unhesitatingly leave their work,—for cannot to days be done as well to-morrow?—and enjoy themselves like children freed from school, for they are of simple natures and easily pleased. Without books, without art, their whole relaxation consists in these occasional feastings, except for the slight dissipation of market-day, which visits each district in turn, week by week. As Morocco villages, whether of tents or huts, very seldom contain any shops or resident mechanics, the farmers wait till a market is held near them to dispose of their produce, or transport it to the coast, and also to purchase foreign stores and cloths. Here, at these weekly markets, meet Arabs and Berbers, and in the North the nondescript hill-tribes or Jibala.

The last-named live in huts and houses, and their villages are of a more permanent character than those described, for their way of living differs much from that of the Arabs. They are of mingled races, and probably represent the Berbers first Arabicized in the eighth and ninth centuries. They are distinguishable by their dialect as well as by peculiar customs, and are said to have in each tribe a different way of pronouncing Arabic, which they never learn to speak like Arabs; it is alleged by natives that they are more successful with European tongues, while those of Zarhon and of the Mirmusa tribe in the Rif are declared to speak like the Jews of Fez. Space will not permit of a detailed comparison of their customs with those of their neighbours, but they would doubtless repay investigation.

While Arab customs vary in detail from tribe to tribe, the Jibli customs are universal. The Jibala are cleaner by far than the Arabs and in matters of religion less fanatical, but more strict in its observances. The Arabs, with a kaid for each tribe, are in closer touch with the government than the Jibala, whose sheikhs are nominated by the basha of the nearest town. The Jibala generally confine their cultivation to gardens or to crops required for their own consumption. The actual work of the field is done chiefly by labourers, called khamas, who receive in addition to their food, a cloak and a pair of slippers or sandals at the Great Feast, and a fifth of the wheat or barley raised, or a fourth of the beans, chick-peas, dra or vegetables, the straw being common property. Sales of horses, mules and camels are recorded in formidable documents which describe the appearance of both vendor and vended most minutely, and the same accuracy of detail is observed in the records of agricultural partnerships or any other transaction witnessed on paper.

Out in the fields the villagers of both races lead much the same existence. Soon after the rains have thoroughly soaked the ground in the later autumn the ploughing begins, the usual primitive Eastern ploughing with a home-made wooden plough drawn by oxen or whatever beasts the farmer can muster; it may be camel and donkey, or perchance, having only one ass, he sets his wife to pull by its side! The area a pair of oxen can plough in a month—a jujah—is the only measure of land, so much of which goes uncultivated that except in the vicinity of towns it may almost be had for the tilling. No hedges are planted between the fields, or walls built, except when trees or vegetables are to be grown, when cattle must be kept out. In the open country only a few loose stones, if as much, mark the limits of each cultivated patch, so that to remove a neighbour's land-mark in Morocco is a very easy task. Having so much available ground, the Moors shift their cultivation from point to point to avoid impoverishing the soil, and allow it abundant rest.

In the dry ground wheat, barley, peas, beans and lentils are sown, in the damp ground maize and millet. Barley is planted first, then wheat, and maize comes last. About the middle of February, when the corn has sprung up, the women of the Jibli villages make a large dressed figure called Mata, covered with ornaments to which all contribute. This they carry in procession round their fields, singing a peculiar ditty. The figure is borne by the foremost woman, who must give it up to any other woman who can get in front of her, which leads to much racing and contention. When the women have had their turn, the "guy" is given up to the men, who are all mounted on horse-back, and jump over the figure, eventually galloping over the young corn, each trying to secure possession of it. At sunset the "Mata" is burned. In spite of the damage done to the crops by this sport, it is believed to bring good luck; its origin would be an interesting study, as it undoubtedly savours of heathendom.

The rainy season should commence in the end of September, when the prevailng winds change from east to south west, and, heralded by a sudden coolness of the atmosphere some days before, showers fall at night, the intervening days being bright and fresh. Then the former rains come down in earnest, and as they soak in ploughing and sowing begin, often during several weeks of almost fine weather which are truly delightful, till the latter rains set in, and the country is deluged. April usually sees the end of the rains, when maize (Turkiah), sown in March, is planted out, for along the coast, where dew and breeze are plentiful, it is not dependent on the rain, like wheat and barley, which by this time are well up, and will be ready for the sickle in May and June.

Harvesting then demands every available hand, and all turn to in the field, the men with small, saw-toothed sickles, when the demand for labour is such that whole families make it an occasion for their summer holiday, and go into the country, reminding one of the hop-season at home. The grain, which ripens at the height of eighteen inches or two feet, is cut off close to the ear, the reaper drawing the sickle across it towards himself,—and the remaining stalks are left to return to the soil. The corn is trodden out upon the threshing floor of earth by oxen and other animals, frequently donkeys and mules, or threshed with flails, or a rude construction of rolling logs is dragged over the ears, the grain being afterwards winnowed with shovels. A curious practice is the sowing of canary-seed (zual) with the grain, and its removal during this process.

Grain is usually brought to town by the cultivators themselves in sacks, and, if not already paid for, is sold at the doors of the foreign merchants at a price which the latter have fixed. By them it is stored, until shipment in great warehouses (heri), or by native purchasers in underground cells (matmorah), circular, bottle-shaped pits dug beneath a peculiar stratum of tufa which covers most of the Morocco plains, and is impervious to damp. Groups of these pits are found at some spot (meri) by each village, in charge of a keeper (merras) who, for a fixed proportion, measures it in and out and gives a receipt. Thus preserved, the mouths of the pits being sealed, wheat and barley are kept for years, and even though after a great length of time it turns black, and the bread made from it is sour, it is not considered less wholesome. In time of war these stores are as eagerly sought for as carefully hidden, and some claim to be able to detect them by their scent. In the hills, where they do not exist, their place is taken by large baskets of wicker or cane (sullah) covered with thatch, as in upper Egypt.

Fruits and vegetables are not much cultivated except in the neighbourhood of towns, and their nature has been treated of elsewhere. Figs and raisins are largely dried, especially for use when travelling. The method of preparing the last-named is to make a clear lye of ashes and lime, and mix it with oil: into this the bunches of grapes are dipped, and then dried in the sun.

In their travelling arrangements the Moors, as well as the Arabs, are far behind the Persians, who, while working on identical principles, have introduced numerous little refinements, such as superior trappings, bells, and caravan-sarais. Camels are ill-adapted to mountain journeys, and in wet weather on clayey soil are liable to constant slips from which they cannot recover, so the popular beast of burden is the tough and sturdy mule, higher in price, as a rule, than the horse, but requiring less attention. Its load is only a couple of hundred-weight, about the same as that of a mare, and except when carrying merchandize, it is provided with a pair of roomy panniers (shwari) across a straw-filled canvas pack-saddle (bardah, or, if of light Sus make, ahlas).

When loading a pack beast, the general rule is to pile on the weight till it becomes unsteady on its knees as it stands, and then to mount on top of the load, it being well-known that a larger load can be carried when in motion than when at rest. The same principle is applied to the loading of women with grass, straw, charcoal, fire-wood, and other articles of which they bring tremendous bundles many miles into town.

Perched on the top of the pack, the rider sits dangling both legs against one side of the creature's neck to make it go. But this is not the only method of urging its pace, for in his hand he usually carries, as more effectual than a stick, something sharp, a splinter, a packing-needle, or an aloe point, wherewith to goad the animal in the shoulder, where there is almost always an open sore. The saddles are usually badly padded, so that under them there may often be found a great raw patch as big as a soup-plate, but the Moorish mind is inured to such sights, and cannot understand our sympathy for these dumb sufferers. Whether they employ rich riding-saddles, mounted on a dozen or more felt cloths of different colours, or only the rude packs of goat-hair cloth stuffed with wool, or of canvas stuffed with straw, all are huge, solid, ungainly things, so it is little wonder that few beasts are to be found with whole backs. The case is still worse with the donkeys, which are numerous and for the most part small, seldom carrying more than a hundred-weight—and so cheap that they receive scant attention.

Mares are the favourite mounts of the farmers themselves, and they are often highly prized. Horses are invariably used unmutilated, and they are sometimes of a fine strain. Their saddles (sarj) are great heavy constructions covered with red cloth, distinguished from those intended for mules by their more elegant construction and lighter shape, the military pattern having a high back and pommel from between which it is difficult to fall.

Those of the mules (sarijah) are merely modified pack-saddles. Both are furnished with large, high-strung shovel-stirrups, the corners of which serve as spurs, if these are not worn, but if they are, they are single spikes of considerable length. The bridles also are cruel inventions, that of a horse (lijam) being a tremendous lever curb by which the mouth may be forced open, that of a donkey (sarimah) being a simple ring on the lower jaw, and that of the mule, like the creature itself, between the two.

Saddles of all sorts are secured in place by broad chest-bands (dir) and buttock bands (d'far), but the girths are often quite inadequate, and cause much suffering.

At night the steeds are picketed in rows before the tents, one leg or both fore-legs being attached to a rope between pegs on the ground, and so they stand without shelter, eating the barley and straw which form their principal fodder. In Spring a few beans are given to fatten them, and to brighten their coats, and so is grass (hasheesh), especially barley-grass (kail), and sometimes fenugreek and sullah, a sort of wild lucerne. New barley is not given until after midsummer, or when it is, the mouths are washed with pitch to prevent the rough grain from making the gums sore. Old butter is given to horses in summer. When grazing, one fore and one hind foot are shackled together by a short rope (shikkel), and they are turned loose. They drink only at noon, or at sunset after a journey: then comes the one good meal of the day, barley, followed by crushed straw, with perhaps a handful of barley in the morning, and a nibble by the way at midday. Sand is used as litter.

The shoes employed in Morocco are thin, almost triangular plates, pierced in the centre, and slightly turned up behind. The hoofs are pared to fit. An English gentleman, desirous of showing what our cart-horses were like, drew on the ground the size of one of their shoes: "Ay," replied the farrier, "but go up country, and you will find that our lord the Sultan—God send him victory—has horses with hoofs so big!" and he drew one twice the size. Not to be beaten, the foreigner sent home for a specimen shoe. On presenting himself with this in hand, the farrier quietly offered to make one twice the size, if he would pay for the trouble. Finally the Englishman sent home for a good-sized cart-horse skull. On taking this to his friend, all the answer he received was: "Now you've beaten me. I can make a shoe of any size, but I can't make skulls—that's not my trade!"

The Abda, Ait Z'dig, M'tuga and Haiaina breeds are the most celebrated in Morocco. The M'tugi has a, larger crest than the Abdi, but more slanting hind-quarters. Well-bred colts and fillies reared by Europeans with a little care and knowledge develop into beautiful creatures, but the country stables of the natives generally contain gaunt, underfed animals, only beautiful by reason of their trappings.

The important question for the farmer everywhere is water, first as to the season and amount of the rainfall, then as to irrigation from rivers during the summer, for northern Morocco at least is not deficient in water-supply. In the mountainous districts irrigation is extensive and efficient. Every little stream is carried off along the slopes at high level, in mud-banked channels, which are often marked for miles by rows of walnut trees, all being verdant below and parched above. At intervals these conduits feed primitive undershot water-mills, each pair of stones being separately housed and turned by the stream direct, quite one of the features of the Atlas scenery. Below them the hillsides are terraced like the Himalayas or the Alps, and wherever there is a level patch there is exquisite sward amid olive trees.

Further down, on the plains, where the fall is less, the irrigation channels grow less frequent, and the supply of water is but temporary. As the turn of each cultivator comes round, the precious liquid is conveyed successively to every patch, the area under cultivation being divided into sections surrounded by slight banks of mud, so that each may be equally flooded and left to soak. The course of the stream is deflected from one patch to another by shifting the mud of the banks with the foot. In this way a large area can soon be treated, and waste avoided. Drought, nevertheless, comes at intervals, and on the plains causes famines which a more extended system of irrigation would prevent, since there are plenty of rivers, and the hotter the summer the greater the extent to which the eternal snows of the Atlas melt, and consequently the greater and cooler the flow of the rivers they feed.

Yet there is still a greater enemy than drought for the Moorish farmer, and that is the locust, which in its search for green pastures too often accompanies drought. At such times myriads cross the Atlas, breeding many myriads more on the fertile plains, which they unsparingly devastate, the attempts made to exterminate them being hopelessly unsystematic and inadequate. In former times the sultans used to pay the Berbers of the Atlas to kindle large fires in the colder altitudes, to which the locusts were attracted by the warmth and burnt. It is only of late years that the Government has yielded to the advice of foreign officials and consented to purchase all eggs collected and brought to the coast for destruction, but the way in which the collectors are cheated greatly minimises the effect of this measure. When the locusts fly into the sea, their putrefying bodies, washed up by the waves, have been collected in such numbers as to cause sickness. The only solace to be obtained from such a visitation is that some of the people use them as food, as we would eat shrimps, which they strongly resemble."

In Rahamna the crops are sometimes also attacked by armies of rats from the hills, and everywhere, what locusts and rats have left, ill-paid officials prey upon. Such is the injustice and oppression of the Moorish Government, that in the very best of years little wealth can be amassed, and the Moorish farmers are not to be envied. Whatever they may be able to save in good years is more wisely buried than spent in display which would only tempt some rapacious official, so unless some sort of protection can be obtained, even the well-to-do will clothe themselves in rags and wear the garb of misery.

Large numbers, on account of their poverty, are obliged to enter into relations, often most disastrous, with capitalists, Jewish or European, who advance them money for the purchase of cattle or seed, going into "partnership" it is called, a practice which is regulated by traditional customs varying from district to district. But those prevailing in the northern provinces may be described as a specimen of the whole. The fellah or farmer there undertakes to tend and feed cattle, sheep or goats for from a fifth to a half of the profits after deducting all expenses, besides presenting his sleeping partner with twenty of the fifty pounds of butter each cow is expected to give, while he keeps the milk himself.

Half the price of the sheep and the goats, if not of the cattle, has to be repaid by the Moor at a given date, but should he fail in this, the speculator takes possession of the whole. Till this debt is discharged the capitalist may take over all the produce,—young, wool, skins, etc.—and if when a reckoning is made there is found to have been a loss, the farmer has either to make his share good by borrowing money for the purpose elsewhere at usurious interest, or to consent to a renewal of the arrangement on terms which as often as not render him ere long the slave of his partner, on whom also he is dependent for protection from the Government, so that he dare not rebel.

Horses are bred and tended by such partners in return for their use at certain times, as those of ploughing and threshing, and camels for a fourth share in the profit from their hire.

Meakin, Budgett. The Moors: A Comprehensive Description. S. Sonnenschein & Company, 1902.

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