Hung with a tapestry of roses, immense brown walls lay crumbling--ruined
gateways, and shattered traces of the triple fortifications which
defended Tlemcen when the Almohades were in power. By a clear rill of
water gushing along the roadside, a group of delicate broken arches
marked the tomb of the "flying saint," Sidi Abou Ishad el Taiyer, an
early Wright or Bleriot who could swim through the air; and though in
his grave a chest of gold was said to be buried, no one--not even the
lawless men from over the border--had ever dared dig for the treasure.
Close by, under the running water, a Moor had found a huge lump of
silver which must have lain for no one could tell how many years,
looking like a grey stone under a sheet of glass; nevertheless, the
neighbouring tomb had still remained inviolate, for Sidi Abou Ishad el
Taiyer was a much respected saint, even more loved than the marabout who
sent rain for the gift of a sacrificed fowl, or he who cured sore eyes
in answer to prayer. Only Sidi Bou-Medine himself was more important;
and presently (because the distance was short, though the car had
travelled slowly) they came to the footpath in the hills which must be
ascended on foot, to reach the shrine of the powerful saint, friend of
great Sidi Abd el Kader.
Already they could see the minaret of the mosque, high above the mean
village which clustered round it, rising as a flame rises against a
windless sky, while beneath this shining Giralda lay half-ruined houses
rejuvenated with whitewash or coats of vivid blue.
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