Morocco, the Land of the Extreme West 14.5 



Moorish Women at the Spinning-wheel Waited on by a Slave 



ride. As I apprehended a long journey, 

 I chose the youngest and most spirited of 

 my horses. 



Before we mounted our hands were 

 freed, upon giving our parole that we 

 would not endeavor to escape. This was 

 an immense relief, for those palmetto 

 bonds cut into the wrist, while the con- 

 strained position of our arms amounted 

 to torture. 



We were not, however, allowed to hold 

 the bridle ourselves, but were led off by 

 the mountaineers, whose rough handling 

 threw my horse into such a frenzy that it 

 was with difficulty that I could keep my 

 seat. 



Just as we were starting, Bourzin re- 

 appeared and volunteered to accompany 



me, to which Raisuli assented, and this 

 attendant was also allowed a mount. 



Two of the mountaineers clambered 

 upon Varley's horse, a big chestnut, 

 which was not saddled, while the saddle 

 which had been hastily placed upon my 

 horse was one that had been cast aside 

 and the girths were rotten. 



As I learned afterward, this selection 

 was due to a mistaken attempt of one of 

 my grooms to save our saddles. He did 

 not realize that they were required for 

 our own use, and when he had been 

 ordered to produce the saddles, had 

 thrown this one to the mountaineers, de- 

 claring that the good saddles were all 

 under lock and key at the house — a mis- 

 taken zeal, which cost me, later on, a seri- 

 ous accident. 



