own compositions written and elaborated in Granada. As music is rare in the desert, her playing gave great pleasure to these finely cultured people.
During the afternoon, while we were still some distance from Figig, Colonel Pariel had looked at the sky and predicted rain, though it was quite unusual at this season. Unconventional as it was, when evening fell, with it there came torrents of rain, that still continued in lighter form when I set forth the following morning with my camera to cross the level space separating the French quarter from the native villages. At a distance these all looked quite uniform in appearance with adobe structures showing above the enclosing walls of similar material. The houses, which seemed to be constructed on different architectural lines from those in other parts of Morocco, had strange, open galleries and flat roofs, small iron or wooden doors, through which one could pass only by bending very low, and steps leading down into patios sunk below the level of the street. The inhabitants of the ksurs lead their daily lives in these sunken courts, overhung on all four sides by galleries which are usually decked with bunches of golden dates, with ropes of red Turkish peppers and with strings of grapes drying in the sun.
In spite of the rain and dark skies I took some snapshots but was entirely unsuccessful. What is more, the rain lasted during all of our stay in Figig, so that I was unable to secure any good pictures of this extreme outpost I greatly regretted this, as the oasis is quite unique in character and is surrounded by a high wall set with strange-looking watch-towers, where villagers guard the
