A JOURNEY 
tea and cakes! No less graven 
in our memory are the hours 
spent on the flat roof, with the 
great, mysterious, silent city 
stretching white out into the 
moonlight, the foliage of slen- 
der,nodding palms only serving 
to make the graceful outlines of 
the minarets stand out the more 
boldly upon the dark shadows 
of the mountains. Fairyland 
in the midst of barbarism! For 
many are the stories that could 
be told, did but space permit, to 
illustrate existing conditions. 
THE ANCIENT GLORY OF FEZ 
The golden days of Fez be- 
gan in the ninth century and 
continued till about the thir- 
teenth. It was then celebrated 
as a paradise. Around the city 
were splendid gardens of rarest 
fruits. The soil, watered by a 
thousand streams, was of ex- 
traordinary fertility. Its nu- 
merous schools and libraries 
and its famous university at- 
tracted students even from Eu- 
rope. The climate, its fruits 
and flowers, its fountains and 
wells, its verdure and beauty, 
caused the city to enjoy a repu- 
tation unique in Islan. Its 
glories have departed, but it still boasts 
one of the most sacred mosques of the 
Mohammedan world, that of Mulai Id- 
ress, “the Younger,” the founder of the 
kingdom. We were not permitted to 
even pass through the streets near this 
famous mosque, nor could we as “infidel 
dogs” set foot in any of the mosques of 
Morocco on pain of death. 
The sights of Fez are its teeming 
streets, bazars, and markets. Weeks can 
be spent in this interesting city and yet 
new and strange scenes be met with at 
almost any moment. Snake-charmers, 
medicine-men, story-tellers with their 
gaping crowds, slave markets, artisans, 
and tradesmen of every description, cos- 
tumes from the four quarters of Mo- 
rocco and beyond interest the traveler at 
every turn. 
IN MOROCCO 
769 
Photo by George E. Holt 
“ STREET IN A MOORISH TOWN 
But all is not poetry in Fez. Revolt- 
ing are the horrible diseases to be seen 
on every hand. Men, women, and chil- 
dren in all stages of suffering, with nose, 
lips, eyes, and even limbs eaten away. 
In the narrow streets before some of the 
mosques we had actually to pick our way 
on certain days among the disease-coy- 
ered bodies of those placed there by rela- 
tives or friends to beg. So near death’s 
door were some of them that they could 
only beckon for alms with a finger. At 
times we saw dead bodies lying there, 
for those dying in the night are not re- 
moved till late the next day. 
Such sights seemed bad enough at 
first, but worse were yet to come, for 
several times we were compelled to pass 
through one of the great city gates, over 
which hung forty-nine bloody, grinning 
