Salam that I had no power to help him, that my Government would do no more
than protect me. It was hard for the applicants to learn that they must go
unaided. The harvest was newly gathered, it had survived rain and blight
and locusts, and now they had to wait the arrival of their kaid or his
khalifa, who would seize all they could not conceal,--hawk, locust, and
blight in one.

At the village called after its patron saint, Sidi B'noor, a little
deputation of tribesmen brought grievances for an airing. We sat in the
scanty shade of the zowia wall. M'Barak, wise man, remained by the side of
a little pool born of the winter rains; he had tethered his horse and was
sleeping patiently in the shadow cast by this long-suffering animal. The
headman, who had seen my sporting guns, introduced himself by sending a
polite message to beg that none of the birds that fluttered or brooded by
the shrine might be shot, for that they were all sacred. Needless perhaps
to say that the idea of shooting at noonday in Southern Morocco was far
enough from my thoughts, and I sent back an assurance that brought half a
dozen of the village notables round us as soon as lunch was over.
Strangely enough, they wanted protection--but it was sought on account of
the Sultan's protected subjects. "The men who have protection between
this place and Djedida," declared their spokesman, sorrowfully, "have no
fear of Allah or His Prophet. They brawl in our markets and rob us of our
goods. They insult our houses,[14] they are without shame, and because of
their protection our lives have become very bitter."

"Have you been to your Basha?" I asked the headman.

"I went bearing a gift in my hand, O Highly Favoured," replied the
headman, "and he answered me, 'Foolish farmer, shall I bring the Sultan to
visit me by interfering with these rebels against Allah who have taken the