ASCENT OF THE BENI SALAH.

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From the farm to the "Two Cedars," another two hours must be allowed, the descent being of course much more rapid. Lunch should be taken, although the hospitality of the Glacière-Laval is proverbial. The larger of the two cedars, which form so conspicuous a landmark, measures seven feet in girth. On the highest point is a cairn, commemorative of the exploits of various travellers; this is rather farther to the westward than the cedars. The view from thence is very fine and extensive, and the whole scene one of impressive gloomy grandeur. While the sun is up the air, even among the snow, will not be found cold.

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Quite at the summit, among the cedars, on the last sugar-loaf ridge of the mountain, is still to be found an old koubba, now barricaded with brambles, and altogether abandoned, but not absolutely in ruins. The plateau is not more than a hundred paces in extent. It is surrounded by cedars and paved with living rocks, so white and flat, so washed by violent rains, so devoured by burning suns, that they have almost the appearance of bones, bleached by long exposure in the open air. A coarse short grass, with clumps of grey lichen and scraps of thorny moss, a kind of metallic vegetation- the only life possible on this stony soil and in the inclemency of this elevation-clothes the rocks with a scanty verdure. The cedars are low, but very large; their foliage is almost black, their trunks the colour of rusty iron. Wind, snow, rain and sun, each fiercer here than in the plain, in turn assail them; the lightning from time to time strikes them and cuts them in two, as by an invisible hatchet; all the changes of an extreme climate deal them mortal blows, which yet do not kill them. Their bark peels off in scales, and is spread in dust around their trunks. Passers-by make incisions in them, shepherds hack at them, wood-cutters make faggots of them; they come to an end little by little-but with the tenacity of living things; their roots have the solidity of the rock which supports them, and the sap, which seems to shun the stern necessity of death, takes refuge in the branches, which are constantly green and fruitful.

"We sat at the feet of these venerable trees, ancient counsellors as they might be called. The day was warm and utterly calm—a circumstance which I do not forget, for I owe to it, the strongest impression of solemn peace which I ever felt in my life. The silence was so intense,

that we remarked even the noise of our own voices, and spoke involuntarily in a half whisper.

"From the spot of which I speak, at the foot of the old koubba, the horizon describes a perfect circle, except at one point, where the dark cone of the Mouzaïa shoots upwards. To the north we look over the plain, its villages but indistinctly marked, its routes traced in white lines; then over the rolling Sahel, from Algiers, the exact place of which is indicated by a white speck, to Chenoua, whose foot is seen advancing like a promontory between two gulfs; beyond-between the coast of Africa and the infinite heavens, the sea lies extended as far as eye can reach, a desert of blue. Eastward is the white Djurdjura; on the opposite side rises the dark mass of Ouarensensis. Eighty leagues of sky without cloud or spot separate these two landmarks, showing the two extremities of the Kabyle country. At our feet extend fifteen leagues of mountains in an indescribable variety of forms, piled one upon the other, entangled and lost in a network of bluest haze. Medeah should be visible, were it not masked by the Nador, and lost in the turn of a ravine which is itself an elevated plateau.

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'Straight southwards, beyond this vague outline of mountains, valleys, and peaks-that vast mountainous country which is called the Tell and the Atlas—are to be discerned yet finer, suppler lines, extended like a blue network between high supports, that farthest to the right, bearing the citadel of Boghar. Further on again we catch the low line of the plains. . . The half of French Africa is spread out in our sight: Eastern and Western Kabylia, the hills of Algiers, the plain, and, in the opposite direction to the sea, the Sahara.”—Une Année dans le Sahel. Fromentin.

Les Gorges de la Chiffa, the most beautiful of the excursions from Blidah, may either be made a separate expedition (carriage from Blidah 15 fr.), or it may be taken, indeed must be passed, en route to Medeah (see next chapter).

CHAPTER XXIV.

LES GORGES DE LA CHIFFA.-MEDEAH.-BOKHARI.—

Diligences run through the whole of this route from Blidah as far as El-Aghouat on the borders of the desert.

To Medeah in about four hours, fare (coupé) 5 fr., twice a day, morning and afternoon.

From Medeah to Bokhari nine or ten hours. Every morning at 5 A.M., 10 fr.

From Bokhari to El-Aghouat, three days' journey of about seventeen hours each, 70 fr.

There can be no doubt that for these, as indeed for all the excursions to be made from Blidah, a private carriage is not only pleasanter, but for a party of four or even three people, less expensive. A carriage with three horses can be hired at Blidah for El-Aghouat and back, for from 400 to 500 fr., or at a uniform rate of 25 fr. a day, driver and all expenses included. Carriages are supposed to be hired somewhat more reasonably at Blidah than at Algiers.

It need scarcely be said that a journey on horseback presents many advantages and attractions, and is decidedly the method of travelling by which the country is seen to the greatest advantage.

The tariff for a carriage and pair to the Gorges de la Chiffa from Blidah and back, is 12 fr. as far as the Ruisseau des Singes, and 15 fr. to the Camp des Chênes, the end of the Gorge.

N leaving Blidah by the gate Bab-es-Sebt, the road

tains, and running parallel with the railway through a richly productive and well-cultivated country, or rather orchard,

for about four miles, when, the little Oued-el-Kebir having been crossed, the new and handsome iron bridge will be reached which spans the Chiffa.

The bridge, with its extensive range of high arches, seems altogether out of proportion to the tiny streamlet, which in ordinary times, trickles feebly among the stones far below, leaving a wide belt of flinty shore, over which laurel-bushes grow here and there, with ragged banks of red earth flaming in the sun, high and dry. But in autumn, and sometimes in spring, when the mountain-snows melt suddenly, the tiny streamlet swells into a vast and raging wave, which tears away banks, boulders, and trees in its rushing fury-too often flocks, herds, and houses as well. For a few hours it sweeps on, in a tempest of passion; then, as suddenly exhausted as aroused, sinks down again into its accustomed calm, leaving its wide course naked and sterile, as it was the moment before the sudden outbreak of the waters, and as it will be for at least another six months.

On the right is the small village of La Chiffa. The diligences for Medeah meet the 6 A.M. and the mid-day trains from Algiers, at this station. The village was almost destroyed in 1867, by the earthquake which was so severely felt at Blidah, but it has been rebuilt and is now thriving.

At this point the road divides; that to Milianah and Cherchel continuing through the plain, that to Medeah turning to the left.

Just past La Chiffa is a large military convict prison, surrounded by a palisade. The convicts may be seen at work in the surrounding fields under a guard armed with muskets; but their principal employment here, as at another station near El-Affroun, is in splitting the fibre of

the palmetto-leaves, some portions of which are made into ropes, while others are set aside for the manufacture of baskets, mats, and paper.

The road now begins to ascend, following the right bank of the Chiffa, and very soon the entrance to the gorge is seen, the two sides of the mountain slanting down like the sides of the letter V.

The gorge, which passes completely through the lesser Atlas, is about ten miles in length, and is of remarkable beauty. It scarcely possesses the grandeur and sublimity of an Alpine pass; it may be more fitly compared with that of the Pyrenees, or with some of our grander Scotch or Welsh scenery-though the beauty of the African climate gives it a charm of luxuriance, a richness of vegetation and colouring, which are quite wanting among our northern hills, or, indeed, among the sombre pines which clothe the Alpine slopes.

At the bottom of the gorge, flows the Chiffa, in a bed of oleanders, which, when in flower, must form a beautiful mass of colour. On the left rises the dark mass of the Djebel Nadar; on the right that of the Djebel Mouzaïa, 5,350 feet, crowned with limitless forests of chestnut and ilex.

The sides of the ravine are clothed with a luxuriant foliage of evergreen oak, cork, and carouba trees, intermingled with wild olives, almonds, arbutus, myrtle, and a variety of evergreen shrubs. The lower slopes are hung with a thick fringe of delicate maiden-hair fern, and are gay in their season with a variety of brilliant wild-flowers. Here may be found the yellow jasmine, the delicate mimosa, the caper-plant with its curious blossoms, together