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Having found Jinan Dolero, and furnished it after a fashion, we still lacked servants, and they seemed to be almost as difficult to meet with as houses that is, trustworthy ones. Again, however, we were fortunate. A soldier-servant who had lived with a missionary happened to have nothing to do, and agreed to come to us with his young wife, Tahara.
The boundaries of the right shore now disappear, but then again appear as a terrible heap of naked rocks, at whose extreme edge is situated the fine fortress Dolero. Near it groups of houses are built on the bare rocks projecting into the sea, and form an extensive town. September 19th. To-day we were on the open, somewhat stormy sea.
Miss Z wanted to walk out with me and to sleep at Jinan Dolero, evidently not liking our passing a night alone under such suspicious circumstances; but I was convinced there was no cause for fear, and I think we both knew that the less we made of what had happened the better; so, borrowing a lantern, I started back for Jinan Dolero, Tahara clinging to my arm, S`lam lighting the way, and the old mother following.
We stumbled on the rough cobbles and slid into the muddy gutter. Tahara's slippers again impeded her, and off they came. I wished devoutly I knew where Miss Z was, and could make straight for her, probably hurrying at that moment for Jinan Dolero, somewhere in the maze of streets and houses.
Others that he was shot by some Riffi brothers because he was in the habit of talking to their sister. Others that the murder was connected with his having lived at one time with a Moorish woman, from whom he eventually separated. No one will ever know. Jinan Dolero would have been called in the Riviera "a villa": it was a typical Moorish garden-house.
But besides that, they are horsemen and most at home on a horse, while their country is not one to travel in on foot. Having decided that the river was fordable, and that we ought to be able to ride across it, we walked back by way of the city, and went in to tea with a Moor, ordering a donkey to be sent out the next day to Jinan Dolero, which should take us across to our El Dorado.
A has a little house close to Jinan Dolero, and occupies himself with his garden outside the city. He dresses like a Moor. In spite of it all, he is not welcomed among them as a brother, but goes by the name of "The Renegade."
April is quite warm enough; indeed, Morocco City "stokes up" early in April; therefore we made it the middle of March when we said good-bye to Jinan Dolero and set our faces Tangier-wards, there to await some steamer which should take us down the coast. The odds and ends which had furnished us at Tetuan and were not wanted had to be sold a very simple matter.
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