This charming repose of manner was certainly refreshing. When the boat arrives, then will it sail. How simple an arrangement! Why did we not think of it before. It may be to-day, it may be tomorrow, or next day, or next week — possibly never.
Fortunately, however, a steamer of another line was already in the harbor and was to sail that very evening, so boarding a little lateensailed craft, a half-hour brought us alongside a good sized French steamer, commodious and pleasant.
A quiet night’s sail, and the next morning brought us so far that the high mountains of the coast loomed up in the distance, blue and cold. This was about five in the morning and presently the east began to grow warm with the coming sunlight. Warmer and warmer grew the horizon as we churned our way along over a perfectly smooth sea, until at last the glorious orb of morning rose out of the sea and cast its rays upon the hilltops of Morocco, a sight never to he forgotten. Higher and higher it rose as we approached the land, the hillsides began to glow under its warmth, little patches of color changed to groups of palm trees, a long line of yellow showed itself to be the commencement of the desert sands back of the seashore town, while the little black moving specks resolved themselves into long lines of camels, laden and coming into the city. Now arose patches of white as Tangiers became visible, and back of the city white domes arose surrounded by patches of foliage. Tangiers was before us with its old Moorish walls and towers, and one tower there was with minarets that glistened with sparkling light as the sun touched its colored glazed tiles. What a sight! The sky a turquoise blue, with fleecy white clouds touching it here and there, the bluer water dancing and sparkling in the sunshine, and the white city backed up by the gray mountains looking still hazy in the far distance!
“ A perfect scene from the ‘ Arabian Nights ’ ” said one. “ ’Tis the end of the world surely, there seems to he nothing but mountains
beyond, ” exclaimed another. “ Aye, and here comes the avenging angels to carry us off, ” said a third. Sure enough, it did look that way decidedly, for no sooner was the anchor down than a half hundred Moors, Turks, Jews and Negroes clambered up the sides of the ship hanging from rope, spar or bulwark, and grinning at us with avaricious eyes.
“ Why they are dressed in peanut bags! ” we exclaimed.
“ No, not dressed, ” we thought, “ undressed more like, for they are certainly as near it as possible. ” A loose baggy cloak of any and every imaginable kind of stuff, picked up in odd lots and sewed together, seemed to be all they wore except a red fez or turban on the head, and yellow slippers or nothing on their feet. These completed the costumes, certainly not extravagant either in price, quantity or quality.
In the midst of this half-civilized looking crowd stood a young fellow of Hebrew mien, but master of the whole group. He boarded the ship quickly, shouted to some Arabs in a tone of command and then turning to the passengers spoke in Spanish to one, in French to another, in German to another, in Arabic to still another and turning to us commenced in English.
“Well amico, ʼʼ I said, “how many more languages can you rattle off if you please? ”
“ Whatever you wish, ” he said, and turning sharply around rushed at a half-dozen negroes and almost slung them over the side, while he turned on a torrent of language at his Infidel brethren which showed him to be fully competent to run the whole country.
He straightened us all out in a short time, filled the boats with baggage and living freight, of which we formed one boat load, and at last gave the word of command to start for the shore,
Our boat was manned by a fierce-looking dusky Moor, a negro as black as the blackest ink manufactured, and a dark Arab boy who constantly chattered to the grave Moor. Of course we could not understand a word they said, and the language was so different from
anything we had heard, that it was totally incomprehensible. Thus were we launched from one world to another, where everything was entirely new in customs, language and appearance.
Had it been low tide, and I sincerely wish it had been, we should have been landed upon the backs of the Arabs and dumped on the sand with our baggage, but as it was, the tide was well up the beach and we were landed in the conventional method upon a little staging loaded with shouting and gesticulating devils, who endeavored to grab our bags and bodily carry us off. And here entered upon the scene our good guardian angel, in the shape of a fine-looking Moorish guide, whom I engaged on the spot to pilot us around while we remained in Tangiers. His name was sufficiently artistic to be mentioned, for it was Mohammed Patecola, and a better fellow it would have been hard to find in this country where every one looks as if they would cut your throat for a pesata.
Patecola was dressed much like the rest, with a single garment of white rough stuff and a pair of yellow slippers. His wardrobe was not extravagant but extremely well calculated to keep cool and airy. The cloak had a pointed hood which went over his head and made him look not unlike a monk, had it not been for his smiling dark face and sharp eyes, which glistened with fun as he enjoyed our strange exclamations of surprise at every step.
Walking up the beach we passed through the customs arch, where sat an aged old turbanned Sheik, in cream white robe, grave and solemn, and seated crosslegged under the projecting hood of the arch. He was not so grave but that he extorted his entrance-fee from us, although nothing was due as we had nothing dutiable in our bags. But all the same we paid him, as it looked as if he could make trouble for us in a thousand ways if he cared to do so. He must make hay while the sun shines and his sun will, presumably, set after one year’s office. He looks as honest as a saint, but in reality is as dishonest as the proverbial New York alderman and would take your last pesata if he dared.
Patecola, however, saves our pockets from too heavy a levy and shoulders his way up a winding path only a few feet wide, between two high walls. By this time the sun has got well up in the heavens and the work of the toilers has been done for the morning. Along these walls, there in the shade, lay dozens of half-naked savage-looking fellows in all attitudes, covered with vermin and dirt, indolent and extremely odoriferous. To pick our way through this mass of
humanity without stepping on some of the bundles of rags was no easy task. Patecola smiles and chuckles to himself, gives somebody here and there a poke to make just room to pass. I give you my word it required a strong heart and stomach, and the nostrils of an apothecary to stem such a tide.
Here we pass a woman, the first yet seen on these foreign shores;
Fortunately, however, a steamer of another line was already in the harbor and was to sail that very evening, so boarding a little lateensailed craft, a half-hour brought us alongside a good sized French steamer, commodious and pleasant.
A quiet night’s sail, and the next morning brought us so far that the high mountains of the coast loomed up in the distance, blue and cold. This was about five in the morning and presently the east began to grow warm with the coming sunlight. Warmer and warmer grew the horizon as we churned our way along over a perfectly smooth sea, until at last the glorious orb of morning rose out of the sea and cast its rays upon the hilltops of Morocco, a sight never to he forgotten. Higher and higher it rose as we approached the land, the hillsides began to glow under its warmth, little patches of color changed to groups of palm trees, a long line of yellow showed itself to be the commencement of the desert sands back of the seashore town, while the little black moving specks resolved themselves into long lines of camels, laden and coming into the city. Now arose patches of white as Tangiers became visible, and back of the city white domes arose surrounded by patches of foliage. Tangiers was before us with its old Moorish walls and towers, and one tower there was with minarets that glistened with sparkling light as the sun touched its colored glazed tiles. What a sight! The sky a turquoise blue, with fleecy white clouds touching it here and there, the bluer water dancing and sparkling in the sunshine, and the white city backed up by the gray mountains looking still hazy in the far distance!
“ A perfect scene from the ‘ Arabian Nights ’ ” said one. “ ’Tis the end of the world surely, there seems to he nothing but mountains
beyond, ” exclaimed another. “ Aye, and here comes the avenging angels to carry us off, ” said a third. Sure enough, it did look that way decidedly, for no sooner was the anchor down than a half hundred Moors, Turks, Jews and Negroes clambered up the sides of the ship hanging from rope, spar or bulwark, and grinning at us with avaricious eyes.
“ Why they are dressed in peanut bags! ” we exclaimed.
“ No, not dressed, ” we thought, “ undressed more like, for they are certainly as near it as possible. ” A loose baggy cloak of any and every imaginable kind of stuff, picked up in odd lots and sewed together, seemed to be all they wore except a red fez or turban on the head, and yellow slippers or nothing on their feet. These completed the costumes, certainly not extravagant either in price, quantity or quality.
In the midst of this half-civilized looking crowd stood a young fellow of Hebrew mien, but master of the whole group. He boarded the ship quickly, shouted to some Arabs in a tone of command and then turning to the passengers spoke in Spanish to one, in French to another, in German to another, in Arabic to still another and turning to us commenced in English.
“Well amico, ʼʼ I said, “how many more languages can you rattle off if you please? ”
“ Whatever you wish, ” he said, and turning sharply around rushed at a half-dozen negroes and almost slung them over the side, while he turned on a torrent of language at his Infidel brethren which showed him to be fully competent to run the whole country.
He straightened us all out in a short time, filled the boats with baggage and living freight, of which we formed one boat load, and at last gave the word of command to start for the shore,
Our boat was manned by a fierce-looking dusky Moor, a negro as black as the blackest ink manufactured, and a dark Arab boy who constantly chattered to the grave Moor. Of course we could not understand a word they said, and the language was so different from
anything we had heard, that it was totally incomprehensible. Thus were we launched from one world to another, where everything was entirely new in customs, language and appearance.
Had it been low tide, and I sincerely wish it had been, we should have been landed upon the backs of the Arabs and dumped on the sand with our baggage, but as it was, the tide was well up the beach and we were landed in the conventional method upon a little staging loaded with shouting and gesticulating devils, who endeavored to grab our bags and bodily carry us off. And here entered upon the scene our good guardian angel, in the shape of a fine-looking Moorish guide, whom I engaged on the spot to pilot us around while we remained in Tangiers. His name was sufficiently artistic to be mentioned, for it was Mohammed Patecola, and a better fellow it would have been hard to find in this country where every one looks as if they would cut your throat for a pesata.
Patecola was dressed much like the rest, with a single garment of white rough stuff and a pair of yellow slippers. His wardrobe was not extravagant but extremely well calculated to keep cool and airy. The cloak had a pointed hood which went over his head and made him look not unlike a monk, had it not been for his smiling dark face and sharp eyes, which glistened with fun as he enjoyed our strange exclamations of surprise at every step.
Walking up the beach we passed through the customs arch, where sat an aged old turbanned Sheik, in cream white robe, grave and solemn, and seated crosslegged under the projecting hood of the arch. He was not so grave but that he extorted his entrance-fee from us, although nothing was due as we had nothing dutiable in our bags. But all the same we paid him, as it looked as if he could make trouble for us in a thousand ways if he cared to do so. He must make hay while the sun shines and his sun will, presumably, set after one year’s office. He looks as honest as a saint, but in reality is as dishonest as the proverbial New York alderman and would take your last pesata if he dared.
Patecola, however, saves our pockets from too heavy a levy and shoulders his way up a winding path only a few feet wide, between two high walls. By this time the sun has got well up in the heavens and the work of the toilers has been done for the morning. Along these walls, there in the shade, lay dozens of half-naked savage-looking fellows in all attitudes, covered with vermin and dirt, indolent and extremely odoriferous. To pick our way through this mass of
humanity without stepping on some of the bundles of rags was no easy task. Patecola smiles and chuckles to himself, gives somebody here and there a poke to make just room to pass. I give you my word it required a strong heart and stomach, and the nostrils of an apothecary to stem such a tide.
Here we pass a woman, the first yet seen on these foreign shores;