Page:Sixteen years of an artist's life in Morocco, Spain and the Canary Islands.djvu/75

64 Suddenly a flash of light illuminates the darkness, and the long boom of the evening gun by which it is followed is heard distinctly by us across the Straits. Gibel Moosa, the opposite and African pillar of Hercules, was still tipped with a rosy ethereal hue. On the calm waters of this usually stormy, though narrow, sea, there was not a single ripple, and the dark fragments of the fortifications, which in the time of our Charles II. were mounted by English soldiers, filled up the intermediate space, and in a jagged, desolate outline, cut darkly along the sea. In the inland distance I could just perceive a long line of camels, looking afar off like specks on the horizon, as they were observed, by the trembling lights, winding their way along the zigzag paths of the hill towards the general market. It was a strange sight, when they came to rest and to pitch their tents, to see the children and the horses, the donkeys, the camels, and the chickens, all nestling together for the night. The women now set about preparing their evening meal, while their turbaned husbands were busily engaged in unpacking their wares, or in looking after their animals. We could have lingered for a long time in the midst of this motley and busy scene, which presented so much that was novel and interesting in aspect to us. But we were compelled reluctantly