When we pushed our horses to the brink the bushes on either
hand showered down their blossoms as though to greet the first visitors to
the rivulet's bank. Involuntarily we drew rein by the water's edge,
acknowledging the splendour of the scene with a tribute of silence. If you
have been in the Western Highlands of Scotland, and along the Levantine
Riviera, and can imagine a combination of the most fascinating aspects of
both districts, you have but to add to them the charm of silence and
complete seclusion, the sense of virgin soil, and the joy of a perfect day
in early summer, and then some faint picture of the scene may present
itself. It remains with me always, and the mere mention of the Argan
Forest brings it back.
Pepe Ratto soon recovered himself.
[Illustration: SELLING GRAIN IN MOGADOR]
"Yes," he said, in reply to my unspoken thoughts, "one seldom sees country
like this anywhere else. But the boar went this way."
So saying, the hunter uppermost again, he wheeled round, and we
followed the stream quite slowly while he looked on either hand for signs
of the large tusker. "We must find where he has settled," he continued.
"Now the weather is getting so warm he will move to some place that is
sandy and moist, within reach of the puddles he has chosen to wallow in.
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