Читать книгу Byeways in Palestine - James Finn - Страница 5

Table of Contents

We were a dozen Englishmen, including three clergymen, undertaking the above journey accompanied by the large train of servants, interpreters, and muleteers usually required for travelling in the East. And it was on Wednesday, the 9th day of May 1855, that we started. This was considered almost late in the season for such an enterprise. The weather was hot, chiefly produced by a strong shirocco wind at the time; and, in crossing over the shoulder of the Mount of Olives, we found the country people beginning their harvest at Bethany.

We were of course escorted by a party of Arab guides, partly villagers of either Abu Dis or Selwan, (Siloam,) and partly of those Ghawârineh Arabs not deserving the appellation of Bedaween, who live around and about Jericho. These people, of both classes, form a partnership for convoy of travellers to the Jordan under arrangements made at the consulate. Without them it would be impossible either to find the way to Jericho and the river, or to pass along the deserted road, for there are always out-lookers about the tops of the hills to give notice that you are without an escort, and you would consequently still find that travellers may “fall among thieves” between Jerusalem and Jericho; besides that, on descending to the plain of Jericho you would certainly become the prey of other Arabs of real tribes, ever passing about there—including most probably the ’Adwân, to whose hospitality, however, we were now about to commit ourselves. To all this must be added, that no other Arabs dare undertake to convoy travellers upon that road; the Taámra to the south have long felt their exclusion from it to be a great grievance, as the gains derived from the employment of escorting Europeans are very alluring.

We had with us a deputed commissioner from the ’Adwân, namely, Shaikh Fendi, a brother of Shaikh ’Abdu’l ’Azeez. He was delighted with the refreshment of eating a cucumber, when we rested by the wayside to eat oranges—the delicious produce of Jaffa.

Passing the Fountain of the Apostles, (so called,) we jogged along a plain road till we reached a booth for selling cups of coffee, at the divergence of the road Nebi Moosa, (the reputed sepulchre of the prophet Moses, according to the Mohammedans,) then up an ascent still named Tela’at ed Dum, which is certainly the ancient [3] Adummim, (Joshua xv. 7)—probably so called from broad bands of red among the strata of the rocks. Here there are also curious wavy lines of brown flint, undulating on a large scale among the limestone cliffs. This phenomenon is principally to be seen near the ruined and deserted Khan, or eastern lodging-place, situated at about half the distance of our journey. The name is Khatroon.

As we proceeded, our escort, mostly on foot, went on singing merrily, and occasionally bringing us tufts of scented wild plants found in crevices by the roadside. Then we came to long remains of an ancient water conduit, leading to ruins of a small convent. In a few minutes after the latter, we found ourselves looking down a fearfully deep precipice of rocks on our left hand, with a stream flowing at the bottom, apparently very narrow indeed, and the sound of it scarcely audible. This is the brook Kelt, by some supposed to be the Cherith of Elijah’s history. Suddenly we were on the brow of a deep descent, with the Ghôr, or Jericho plain, and the Dead Sea spread out below. In going down, we had upon our left hand considerable fragments of ancient masonry, containing lines of Roman reticulated brickwork.

It was now evening; a breeze, but not a cool one, blowing; and we left aside for this time the pretty camping station of Elisha’s Fountain, because we had business to transact at the village of Er-Rihha, (or Jericho.) There accordingly our tents were pitched; and in a circle at our doors were attentive listeners to a narration of the events of Lieut. Molyneux’s Expedition on the Jordan and Dead Sea in 1847.

Thermometer after sunset, inside the tent, at 89° Fahrenheit. Sleep very much disturbed by small black sandflies and ants.

Thursday, 10th.—Thermometer at 76° before sunrise. The scene around us was animated and diversified; but several of us had been accustomed to Oriental affairs—some for a good many years; and some were even familiar with the particular localities and customs of this district. Others were young in age, and fresh to the country; expressing their wonderment at finding themselves so near to scenes read of from infancy—scarcely believing that they had at length approached near to

“That bituminous lake

Where Sodom stood,”

and filled with joyous expectation at the visit so soon to be made to the Jordan, and beyond it. Some were quoting Scripture; some quoting poetry; and others taking particular notice of the wild Arabs, who were by this time increasing in number about us—their spears, their mares, their guttural language, and not less the barren desert scene before us, being objects of romantic interest.

At length all the tents and luggage were loaded on the mules, and ten men of the village were hired for helping to convey our property across the river; and we went forward over the strange plain which is neither desert sand, as in Africa, nor wilderness of creeping plants and flowers, as on the way to Petra, but a puzzling, though monotonous succession of low eminences—of a nature something like rotten chalk ground, if there be such a thing in existence—between which eminences we had to wind our way, until we reached the border of tamarisk-trees, large reeds, willow, aspen, etc., that fringes the river; invisible till one reaches close upon it.

At the bathing (or baptism) place of the Greeks, northwards from that of the Latins, to which English travellers are usually conducted, we had to cross, by swimming as we could. [5] King David, on his return from exile, had a ferry-boat to carry over his household, but we had none. Probably, on his escaping from Absalom, he crossed as we did.

The middle part of the river was still too deep for mere fording. Horses and men had to swim; so the gentlemen sat still on their saddles, with their feet put up on the necks of their horses, which were led by naked swimming Arabs in the water holding the bridles, one on each side.

Baggage was carried over mostly on the animals; but had to be previously adjusted and tightened, so as to be least liable to get wetted. Small parcels were carried over on the heads of the swimmers. These all carried their own clothes in that manner. One of the luggage mules fell with his load in the middle of the stream. It was altogether a lively scene. Our Arabs were much darker over the whole body than I had expected to find them; and the ’Adwân have long plaits of hair hanging on the shoulders when the kefieh, or coloured head-dress, is removed. The horses and beasts of burden were often restive in mid-current, and provoked a good deal of merriment. Some of the neighbouring camps having herds of cattle, sent them to drink and to cool themselves in the river, as the heat of the day increased. Their drivers urged them in, and then enjoyed the fun of keeping them there by swimming round and round them. One cow was very nearly lost, however, being carried away rapidly and helplessly in the direction of the Dead Sea, but she was recovered. The Jericho people returned home, several of them charged with parting letters addressed to friends in Jerusalem; and we were left reposing, literally reposing, on the eastern bank—the English chatting happily; the Arabs smoking or sleeping under shade of trees; pigeons cooing among the thick covert, and a Jordan nightingale soothing us occasionally, with sometimes a hawk or an eagle darting along the sky; while the world-renowned river rolled before our eyes.

“Labitur et labetur in omne volubilis ævum.”

The novelty of the scenes, and the brilliancy of the atmosphere, as well the vivacity of the recent transactions in “passing over Jordan,” had their duly buoyant effect upon youthful persons—who were, however, not forgetful of past events in these places belonging to sacred history.

The baggage went on; but, as the appointed halting-place was only about two hours distant, we remained enjoying ourselves as we were during most of the day.

Among our novel friends is an Arab hero named Gublân, as they pronounce it here, (but it is really the Turkish word Kaplân, meaning Tiger,) and his uncle, old ’Abdu’l ’Azeez. About three years before, Gublân had been attacked by Government soldiers at Jericho. He made a feigned retreat, and, leading them into the thickets of Neb’k trees, suddenly wheeled round and killed six of them. The humbled Government force retired, and the dead were buried, by having a mound of earth piled over them. Of course, such an incident was never reported to the Sublime Invincible Porte at Constantinople; but it was a curious coincidence, that this very morning, amid our circle before the tents, after breakfast and close to that mound, we had Gublân, ’Abdu’l ’Azeez, and the Turkish Aga of the present time, all peaceably smoking pipes together in our company.

Among our gentlemen we had a man of fortune and literary attainments, who had been in Algiers, and now amused himself with dispensing with servants or interpreters—speaking some Arabic. He brought but very light luggage. This he placed upon a donkey, and drove it himself—wearing Algerine town costume. The Bedaween, however, as I need scarcely say, did not mistake him for an Oriental.

Moving forward in the afternoon, we were passing over the Plains of Moab, “on this [east] side Jordan by Jericho”—where Balaam, son of Beor, saw, from the heights above, all Israel encamped, and cried out, “How goodly are thy tents, O Jacob! and thy tabernacles, O Israel! As the valleys are they spread forth, as gardens by the river’s side, as the trees of lign-aloes which the Lord hath planted, and as cedar-trees beside the waters. … Blessed is he that blesseth thee, and cursed is he that curseth thee,” (Num. xxii. I, and xxiv. 5, 6, 9.) This territory is also called the Land of Moab, where the second covenant was made with the people by the ministry of Moses—the one “beside the covenant which he made with them in Horeb.”

Our ride was a gradual ascent; and after some time we were met by young ’Ali, the favourite son of the principal Shaikh Dëâb, (Wolf,) with a small but chosen escort, sent on by his father to welcome us. We saw a good deal of corn land, and people reaping their harvest. This belongs to two or three scattered villages about there, under the immediate protection of the Dëâb ’Adwân. The Arabs, however, in this part of the world, do condescend to countenance and even to profit by agriculture, for they buy slaves to sow and reap for them.

In two hours and a half from the Jordan we came to our halting-place, at a spot called Cuferain, (“two villages”)—the Kiriathaim of Jer. xlviii. 23—at the foot of the mountain, with a strong stream of water rushing past us. No sign, however, of habitations: only, at a little distance to the south, were ruins of a village called Er Ram, (a very common name in Palestine; but this is not Ramoth-Gilead;) and at half an hour to the north was an inhabited village called Nimrin, from which the stream flowed to us.—See Jer. xlviii. 34: “The waters of Nimrin shall be desolate.”

We had a refreshing breeze from the north which is justly counted a luxury in summer time. The shaikhs came and had coffee with me. They said that on the high summits we shall have cooler temperature than in Jerusalem, which is very probable.

After dinner I sat at my tent-door, by the rivulet side, looking southwards over the Dead Sea, and to the west over the line of the promised land of Canaan, which I had never before had an opportunity of seeing in that manner, although the well-known verse had been often repeated in England—

“Oh could I stand where Moses stood,

And view the landscape o’er,

Not Death’s cold stream nor Jordan’s flood

Should fright me from the shore.”

I then read over to myself in Arabic, the Psalms for the evening service—namely, liii., liv., and lv.

About sunset there was an alarm that a lad who had accompanied us as a servant from Jerusalem was missing ever since we left the Jordan. Horse-men were sent in every direction in search of him. It was afterwards discovered that he had returned to Jericho.

At about a hundred yards south of us was a valley called Se’eer, (its brook, however, comes down from the north)—abounding in fine rosy oleander shrubs.

During the night the water near us seemed alive with croaking frogs. Last night we had the sand-flies to keep us awake.

Friday, 11th.—Thermometer 66° before sunrise. My earliest looks were towards Canaan, “that goodly land”—“the hills, from which cometh my help.” How keen must have been the feeling of his state of exile when David was driven to this side the river!

Before breakfast I bathed in the Se’eer, among bushes of oleander and the strong-scented ghar—a purple-spiked flower always found adjoining to or in water-beds. Then read my Arabic Psalms as usual.

Before starting, young ’Ali and his party asked us all for presents, and got none. We gave answer unanimously that we meant to give presents to his father when we should see him. Strange how depraved the Arab mind becomes on this matter of asking for gifts wherever European travellers are found!—so different from the customs of ancient times, and it is not found in districts off the common tracks of resort.

Our road lay up the hills, constantly growing more steep and precipitous, and occasionally winding between large rocks, which were often overgrown with honeysuckle in full luxuriance. The Arabs scrambled like wild animals over the rocks, and brought down very long streamers of honeysuckle, Luwâyeh, as they call it, which they wound round and round the necks of our horses, and generally got piastres for doing so. About two-thirds of the distance up the ascent we rested, in order to relieve the animals, or to sketch views, or enjoy the glorious scenery that lay extended below us—comprising the Dead Sea, the line of the river trees, Jericho, the woods of Elisha’s Fountain, and the hills towards Jerusalem. The Bedaween have eyes like eagles; and some avouched that they could see the Mount of Olives, and the minaret upon its summit. They indicated to us the positions of Es-Salt and of Heshbân.

We had now almost attained a botanical region resembling that of the Jerusalem elevation, instead of the Indian vegetation upon the Jordan plain; only there was ret’m (the juniper of 1 Kings xix. 4) to be found, with pods in seed at that season; but we had also our long accustomed terebinth and arbutus, with honeysuckle and pink ground-convolvulus. The rocks were variegated with streaks of pink, purple, orange, and yellow, as at Khatroon, on the Jerusalem road. Partridges were clucking among the bushes; and the bells on the necks of our mules lulled us with their sweet chime, as the animals strolled browsing around in the gay sunshine.

When we moved forward once more, it was along paths of short zigzags between cliffs, so that our procession was constantly broken into small pieces. At length we lost sight of the Ghôr and the Dead Sea; and after some time traversing miles of red and white cistus, red everlasting, and fragrant thyme and sage, with occasional terebinth-trees festooned with honeysuckle, we came upon a district covered with millions, or billions, or probably trillions, of locusts, not fully grown, and only taking short flights; but they greatly annoyed our horses. My choice Arab, being at that time ridden by my servant, fairly bolted away with fright for a considerable distance.

At length we halted at a small spring oozing from the soil of the field. The place was called Hheker Zaboot—a pretty place, and cuckoos on the trees around us; only the locusts were troublesome.

’Abdu’l ’Azeez proposed that instead of going at once to Ammon, we should make a detour by Heshbon and Elealeh, on the way to his encampment. To this we all assented.

During the ride forward the old shaikh kept close to me, narrating incidents of his life—such as his last year’s losses by the Beni Sukh’r, who plundered him of all his flocks and herds, horses, tents, and even most of his clothing—then described the march of Ibrahim Pasha’s army in their disastrous attempt upon Kerak: also some of the valiant achievements of his kinsman Gublân; and then proceeding to witticism, gave me his etymological origin of the name of Hhesbân—namely, that, on the subsiding of the great deluge, the first object that Noah perceived was that castle, perched as it is upon a lofty peak; whereupon he exclaimed, Hhus’n bân—“a castle appears!” I wish I could recollect more of his tales.

After passing through romantic scenery of rocks and evergreen trees, at a sudden turn of the road we came to large flocks and herds drinking, or couched beside a copious stream of water gushing from near the foot of a rocky hill. This they called ’Ain Hhesbân; and told us that the Egyptian army above alluded to, twenty thousand in number, passed the night there before arriving at Kerak. To many of them it was their last night on earth.

There were remains of large masonry lying about, and the scene was truly beautiful—to which the bells of the goats and cows added a charming musical effect.

I asked an Arab, who was bathing in a pool, where he had come from, and he sulkily answered, “From t’other end of the world!” And I suppose he was right in saying so, for what meaning could he attach to the designation, the world. He must have meant the world of his own experience, or that of his tribe, or his parents—probably extending to the end of the Dead Sea in one direction, to the Lake of Tiberias in another; to the Mediterranean in the west, and in the east to the wilds unknown beyond the road of the Hhâj pilgrimage. “From the other end of the world,” quoth he, the companion of a shepherd boy with his flute, at a mountain spring, pitching pebbles at the sheep of his flock to keep them from wandering away over their extent of “the world.”

As we proceeded, there were several other streams issuing from the hills, some of them falling in pretty cascades into thickets of oleander below. All these meeting together, formed a line of river flowing between grassy banks—near which we saw considerable remains of water-mills, not of great antiquity.

Next we reached two small forts: the one upon our side the stream they called Shuneh, (the usual name used for that kind of building;) the other was across the water, and they called it Shefa ’Amer. I should wonder if our guides knew the existence of the town called Shefa ’Amer, near Caiffa. They told us that both these forts had been erected by Dëâb’s grandfather, but this is incredible.

Near the Shuneh I observed a very large sarcophagus, cut in the solid rock, but not so far finished as to allow of its being removed. In the court-yard there was nothing remarkable. There were, however, some ancient rabbeted stones lying near. Here I may remark, with respect to the sarcophagus, that such things are rare on the east of the Jordan, or anywhere else so far to the south. There are two lids of such lying on the plain of Sharon, alongside the Jaffa road from Jerusalem; and the next southernmost one that I know of (excepting those at Jerusalem) is an ornamented lid, near Sebustieh, the ancient Samaria; but they abound in Phœnicia.

Forward again we went, higher and higher, with wild flowers in profusion, and birds carolling all around. Then literally climbing up a mountain side, we came to a cleft in a precipice, which they called El Buaib, (the little gate,) with unmistakable marks of ancient cuttings about there. Traversing a fine plain of wheat, we at length reached the ancient city of Heshbon, with its acropolis of temple and castle.

That plain would be fine exercise-ground for the cavalry of Sihon, king of the Amorites. Fresh, and almost chilly, was the mountain air; but the sky rather cloudy.

How magnificent was the prospect over to Canaan! We were all persuaded that the Mount of Olives would be visible thence on a fine day; and I have no doubt whatever that the site on which we were standing is that peak—the only peak breaking the regular outline of the Moab mountains which is seen from Jerusalem.

We scattered ourselves about in several groups among pavements and columns of temples, (the most perfect of which are in the Acropolis,) sepulchres, cisterns, and quarries, picking up fragments of pottery, with some pattern work (not highly ornamental, however) upon them, and tesseræ or the cubes of tesselated pavement, such as may be found all over Palestine. The Bedaween call them muzzateem or muzzameet indifferently. There were some good Corinthian capitals, fragments of cornices, and portions of semicircular arches, and pieces of walls that had been repaired at different periods. I entered one rock-hewn sepulchre which contained seven small chambers; six of these had been evidently broken into by main force, the seventh was still closed. This was S.W. of the Acropolis.

All the works or ornamentations above ground were of Greek or Roman construction, but we found no inscriptions or coins. Heshbon must have been at all periods a strong place for defence, but with an unduly large proportion of ornamentation to the small size of the city according to modern ideas. Before leaving this site, far inferior to ’Ammân, as we found afterwards, I got the Arabs around me upon a rising ground, and, with a compass in hand, wrote down from their dictation the names of sites visible to their sharp eyesight:—

To		To
S.S.W.	Umm Sheggar.	S.E.S.	Kustul.
“	Neba (Nebo?).	S.E.	Umm el ’Aamed.
“	Main.	“	Khan em Meshettah.
S.	Medeba.	“	Jâwah.
S.E.S.	Ekfairat (Kephiroth?).	“	Kuriet es Sook.
“	Jelool.	E.	Samek.
“	Umm er Rumâneh.	E.E.N.	Ela’âl.
“	Zubairah.	N.	Es-Salt.
“	Manjah.	(The town	not visible.)

These must have been the places that “stood under the shadow of Heshbon,” (Jer. xlviii. 45.) One of them at least appears in Joshua xiii. 17, etc., among “the cities that are in the plain of Heshbon.” [17]

In half an hour we came to Ela’âl, (Elealeh,) (Isa. xv. 4 and xvi. 9, and Jer. xlviii. 34.) Large stones were lying about, and one column standing upright, but without a capital. Fine corn-plains in every direction around. Our tents pitched at Na’oor were visible to the E.N.E. through an opening between two hills. Cool cloudy day; all of us enjoying the ride through wheat-fields, and over large unoccupied plains—my old friend ’Abdu’l ’Azeez still adhering to me as his willing auditor.

On coming up to his camp at Na’oor, we found that Shaikh Dëâb had already arrived.

And now I may pause in the narrative to describe the status of (1.) ourselves; (2.) the Arabs.

(1.) Although apparently forming one company of English travellers, we were really a combination of several small sets, of two or three persons each—every set having its own cook, muleteer, and dragoman; but all the sets on terms of pleasant intercourse, and smoking or taking tea with each other.

We calculated that our horses and mules amounted to above a hundred in number.

(2.) The whole territory from Kerak to Jerash is that of our ’Adwan tribe, but divided into three sections—the middle portion being that of the supreme chief Dëâb, the northern third that of ’Abdu’l ’Azeez, and the southern that of a third named Altchai in the south towards Kerak; but they all combine when necessary for a general object.

The ’Adwân sow corn by the labour of their purchased slaves. Gublân at Cuferain, Dëâb and his son ’Ali at Nimrin, and a portion of the tribe called “the children of Eyoob” cultivate in the same manner a tract near the Dead Sea called the Mezraa’. These latter attach themselves sometimes to the Dëâb section, called the Dar ’Ali, and sometimes to the Gublân section, called the Dar Nim’r.

Their district is but a comparatively narrow strip at present, as they are pressed upon by the Beni Sukh’r on the east, who are again pressed upon by the ’Anezeh farther eastward; these last are allies of our people.

The Ghôr or Jordan plain is open ground for all Arabs; and a few low fellows called Abbâd Kattaleen, hold a slip of ground downwards between Es-Salt and the Jordan. Es-Salt is a populous and thriving town, the only one in all that country. Kerak, to the south, may be as large, and contain more remnants of mediæval strength, but its affairs are not so prosperous.

This station of Na’oor [19] is upon a long, low, green plain, lying between two lines of high ground; and on a map, it would be nearly central between the northern and southern extremities of the ’Adwân country, or Belka. [20]

Strange and wild was the scene of the Bedawi encampment—the black tents of goats’ hair, the dark and ragged population sauntering about, the flocks and the horses, the ragged or naked children; and then the women in their blue, only article of dress, long-sleeved, their uncombed hair, and lips dyed blue, all walking with dignity of step, most of them employed in hanging up washed fleeces of wool to dry. One in particular I remarked for her stately appearance, with the blue dress trailing long behind, and the sleeves covering her hands; she was giving commands to others.

As soon as we were well settled, and the first confusion over in making our several arrangements with servants, etc., Shaikh Dëâb sent a messenger asking permission for him to pay us a visit of welcome; and a serious ceremonial visit took place accordingly. The great man was arrayed in green silk, and carried a silver-handled sword and dagger; a few chosen men of the tribe formed his train; coffee, pipes, and long compliments followed. We all remarked his keen eyes, ardent like those of a hawk in pursuit of prey. On taking leave he announced his intention of presenting each gentleman with a sheep for our evening meal.

As soon as the indispensable solemnity of his visit was over, the camp became more animated; the sheep were slaughtered; various parties being formed for the feast, which was finished by the Arabs; and I invited all to my tent for tea at night, when the weather became so piercing cold that I found it necessary to have some hot brandy and water to drink.

In this place I wish to say how excellent is animal food dressed immediately after killing. The practice is found, all through the Bible histories, from Abraham entertaining the angels at Mamre, to the father of the prodigal son killing the fatted calf for his reception. At that stage the meat is exceedingly tender and delicate; whereas, if left, as the European practice is, for some time after killing, it has to go through another and less wholesome process in order to become tender again. There are numerous medical opinions in favour of the Oriental method of cooking the food immediately.

Another observation will not be out of place, on the almost universal eating of mutton throughout Asia. I do not mean the anti-beef-eating Brahmins of India, but in all countries of Asia, by eating of meat is understood the eating of mutton, and horned cattle are reserved for agricultural labour. In case of exceptions being met with, they are only such few exceptions as help to prove the rule. This may perhaps be attributed to the general insecurity of animal property in the East; but that I do not think a sufficient reason to account for it. It seems, however, that the ancient Israelites were not so much limited to eating from the small cattle.

Saturday, 12th.—Thermometer 37° just before sunrise, nearly thirty degrees lower than under the same circumstances two days before. The night had been cold and damp; the grass was found wet in the places sheltered from the current of wind, which had elsewhere formed hoarfrost over the field. This reminded us of the elevation we had reached to; and we all exclaimed as to the reasonableness of Jacob’s expostulation with Laban, when he asserted that “in the day the drought [or heat] consumed him, and the frost by night,” (Gen. xxxi. 40.) We were upon frozen ground in the month of May, after passing through a flight of locusts on the preceding day.

A lively scene was the packing up. ’Abdu’l ’Azeez was happy at seeing us all happy, and laying hold of a couple of dirty, ragged urchins, he shook them well, and lifted them up from the ground, and offered them to me, saying, “Here, take these little imps of mine, and do what you like with them; send them to England if you will, for they are growing up like beasts here, and what can I do?” All I could do was to speak cheerfully to them, and make them some little presents. At the door of Dëâb’s tent was his bay mare of high race, and his spear planted beside her. He accompanied us as far as his own encampment, two or three hours over wide plains and grassy pastures. Soon after leaving Na’oor he took us up a small hill, which was called Setcher, (probably Setker in town pronunciation,) where there were some ruins of no considerable amount, but the stones of cyclopean size. Query—Were these remains of the primeval Zamzummim? (Deut. ii. 20.)

At Dahair el Hhumâr (Asses’ Hill) we alighted in Dëâb’s own camp, not large in extent or number of people, probably only a small detachment from the main body brought with him for the occasion, but not such, or so placed, as to interfere with the camp of ’Abdul ’Azeez. However, the well-known emblems of the Shaikh’s presence were observed—namely, his tent being placed at the west end of the line, and his spear at its entrance. Here took place the formality of returning his visit to us yesterday; and here, after coffee and pipes, our presents were produced and given. The travellers were collected in a very long black tent, together with Dëâb, his son and friends. A screen at one end divided us from the women’s apartment, i.e., what would be the Hhareem in houses of towns; behind this curtain the women were peeping, chattering, and laughing; of course we might expect this to be about the extraordinary-looking strangers. It has been conjectured that such a separation of the tent is implied in Gen. xviii. 6 and 10, when “Sarah heard it in the tent-door which was behind him;” but this has no foundation in the plain narrative of Scripture, only in the Arabic translation the words seem to imply that understanding.

The presentation of offerings was a grave and solemn affair. Each donor produced his tribute with an apology for the insignificance of the gift, which was then exhibited in silence by an attendant to the populace of the tribe crowding outside.

The ceremony was concluded by shouts of welcome, and a huge meal of pilaff (rice and mutton upon a great tray of tinned copper) and léban, (curdled milk,) with more smoking. Here we took leave of the chief, who sent on a detachment of his tribe to escort us for the rest of our expedition.

Remounted, and proceeded N.E. by N.; hitherto we had come due north from Heshbon. Passed a hill called Jehâarah, and in a short time reached the source of the river of Ammon, rising out of the ground, with a large pavement of masonry near it. A numerous flock of sheep and goats were being watered at the spring, it being near the time of As’r—i.e., mid-afternoon.

Here the antiquities of Ammân commenced; and remains of considerable buildings continually solicited our attention, as we passed on for quarter of an hour more to our tents, which we found already pitched and waiting for us among a crowd of ancient temples and baths and porticoes—in a forum between a line of eight large Corinthian columns and the small river; in front too of a Roman theatre in good condition. Some of the party, who were familiar with the ruins of Rome and Athens, exclaimed aloud, “What would the modern Romans give to have so much to show as this, within a similar space!”

This was Saturday afternoon; and we had already resolved to spend our Sabbath in this wonderful and agreeable place, so remarkable in Scripture history, and so seldom visited by Europeans.

I climbed up the seats of the theatre, and rested near the top, enjoying the grand spectacle of luxurious architecture around; then descended, and walked along its proscenium; but neither reciting passages of Euripides nor of Terence, as some enthusiasts might indulge themselves in doing, before an imagined audience of tetrarchs, centurions, or legionaries, or other

“Romanos rerum dominos, gentemque togatam.”

Close to this theatre was a covered and sumptuous building, which I could not but suppose to be a naumachia, from its having rising rows of seats around the central space, with a channel leading into this from the river. As the shadows of evening lengthened, the heat of the day was moderated, and I sauntered along the bank of the stream till I came to a large headless statue of a female figure lying in the water. Some men lifted it upon the green bank for me; but it was far too heavy to be transported to Jerusalem for the Literary Society’s Museum.

The swift-flowing rivulet abounded in fish, some of which the Arabs killed for us, either by throwing stones or shooting them with bullets, having no other means of getting at them; but the latter of these methods was too costly to be often adopted. However, we had some fish for dinner in “Rabbah, the city of waters.” This stream is the commencement of the Zerka, which we were to meet afterwards, after its course hence N.E. and then N.W.

I feasted a dozen Arabs at my tent-door. Shaikh ’Abdul ’Azeez laughed when I remarked that this place was better worth seeing than Heshbon, and said, “This is a king’s city. It was the city of King Ghedayûs; and Jerash, which is still more splendid, was built by Sheddâd, of the primitive race of the Beni ’Ad.” Beyond this, of course, it was impossible for him to imagine anything in matters of antiquity.

In my evening’s Scripture reading, I was much struck with the opening of the 65th Psalm: “Praise waiteth for Thee, O God, in Zion,”—which passes over all the examples of human achievement elsewhere, in order to celebrate the peculiar and undying honours of Jerusalem. So now the Grecian and the Roman colonies, who erected the marvels of architecture around me, are gone; while the Jewish people, the Hebrew language, the city of Jerusalem, and the Bible revelations of mercy from God to man, continue for ever. But most particularly does this psalm, taken with the circumstances there before our eyes, point out the difference made between Ammon and Israel, and the reason for it, as predicted in Ezek. xxv., 1–7:—“The word of the Lord came again unto me, saying, Son of man, set thy face against the Ammonites, and prophesy against them; and say unto the Ammonites, Hear the word of the Lord God: Thus saith the Lord God; Because thou saidst, Aha, against my sanctuary, when it was profaned; and against the land of Israel, when it was desolate; and against the house of Judah, when they went into captivity; behold, therefore I will deliver thee to the men of the east for a possession, and they shall set their palaces in thee, and make their dwellings in thee: they shall eat thy fruit, and they shall drink thy milk. And I will make Rabbah a stable for camels, and the Ammonites a couching-place for flocks; and ye shall know that I am the Lord. For thus saith the Lord God; Because thou hast clapped thine hands, and stamped with the feet, and rejoiced in heart with all thy despite against the land of Israel; behold, therefore I will stretch out mine hand upon thee, and will deliver thee for a spoil to the heathen; and I will cut thee off from the people, and I will cause thee to perish out of the countries: I will destroy thee; and thou shalt know that I am the Lord.”

Sunday, 13th.—Dew on the grass; but it was the morning dew, which, like human goodness, was soon exhaled.

After meditating on the chapters in Numbers and Deuteronomy which refer to the conduct and destinies of Ammon and Moab, and reading Jer. xlviii. and xlix. within “the flowing valley” of the 4th verse of the latter, I was summoned to divine service in a tent fitted up for the purpose—carpets on the floor “honoris causâ;” a table covered with simple white, and a serious congregation of Englishmen before it, each with his own Bible and prayer-book. Thank God that to carry such books about in the wildest deserts is a characteristic of my countrymen!

This city of ’Ammân is “the city in the midst of the river” of Joshua xiii. 9; and “Rabbah of the children of Ammon”—the royal city—“the city of waters” of 2 Sam. xii. 26, 27:—to the siege of which Joab invited King David, “lest he should take it, and it should be called after his name.” Here was also deposited the huge iron bedstead of Og, king of Bashan.

Under the Ptolemy dynasty—successors of Alexander—it was rebuilt, with the name of Philadelphia. Several of the best edifices here, now partially ruined, belong to that period.

Under the Crusaders it was a flourishing city and district, retaining the Grecian name.

I could not but reflect on the infinite prescience that dictated the prophecies of the Bible—no tongue could speak more plainly to us than the scene around us did, the fulfilment of the denunciations that these cities of Moab and Ammon should remain as cities “without inhabitants”—“not a man to dwell therein”—and “driven out every man, right forth, and none shall gather up him that wandereth”—“desolate” and “most desolate.”

In the afternoon we walked about to inspect the antiquities, and found several remains of Christian churches with bell-towers attached to them—certainly not originally minarets. These edifices had been afterwards, in Mohammedan times, converted into mosques, as evidenced by the niche made in the south wall of each, pointing to Mecca; and there are watch-towers for signals on all the summits of hills around. The city lies nestled in a valley between these hills.

The first building I examined was among those of the citadel placed upon a lofty eminence commanding the city, the ground-plan of which building is here shown—

The interior of the walls was so profusely embellished with festoons of roses and vine-grapes—both sculptured in stone and wrought in stucco, and of very large size—that there was no room left for pictures or images. The roof of this building is almost all fallen in. I imagined this to have been a Christian church, of very remote antiquity, on account of the vine and the roses, which are peculiarly Christian symbols—alluding to the texts, “I am the true Vine,” and “I am the Rose of Sharon;” but the chambers in each corner are difficult to account for. The east and west ends have no doors.

Near this is a square mass of masonry, upon which are standing six columns, of magnificent dimensions, which no doubt originally supported a roof. Their capitals, of chaste and correct Corinthian style, with portions of ornamental entablature, are lying near. Perhaps belonging to this, but at some distance, lies a ponderous piece of architrave, on which, between lines of moulding, is an inscription in Greek—illegible except the three letters—ΝΩΘ. These letters were nine inches in length.

Nigh to this, again, was a square building of rabbeted stones, equal to almost the largest in the walls of Jerusalem.

All down the hill, descending to our camp, were fragments of columns and of decorated friezes of temples, that had evidently been rolled or had slidden down from their places.

Upon various walls of dilapidated edifices I observed the curious marks, slightly scratched, which almost resemble alphabetical characters, but are not; and which have, wherever met with and wherever noticed, which is but seldom, puzzled travellers, however learned, to decipher. I copied the following:—

And from the shaft of a column still erect, half way down the hill, I copied the following:—

I have since learned that they are the tokens of the Bedaween Arabs, by which one tribe is distinguished from another. In common parlance they are called the Ausam (plural of Wasam) of the several tribes. [33]

In a valley to the north of us, leading westwards from the main valley, we found a beautiful mausoleum tomb—a building, not an excavation in rock—containing six sarcophagi, or ornamented stone coffins, ranged upon ledges of masonry, along three sides of the chamber. These were very large, and all of the same pattern—the lids remaining upon some of them, but shifted aside. Beautiful sculptured embellishments were upon the inside walls and over the portal outside, but no inscriptions to indicate the period or persons to whom they belonged. Inside, however, were rudely scratched the modern Arab tribe-signs, showing that persons of such tribes had visited there; so that Europeans are not the only travellers who help to disfigure ancient monuments by scribbling. Along this western valley were several other such mausoleums. Thence we mounted on a different side to the summit of that hill from which I have here begun my description of edifices—upon a gentle sloping road, evidently of artificial cutting, quite feasible for ascent of chariots.

Near the square (possible) church before mentioned, (though I should say that our party were not all convinced of its being a church,) is a prodigiously large cistern, of good masonry. From the top of the strong walls of the building—while some Arab boys below me were reaching birds’ nests—I got from our guide the following list of sites in the neighbourhood. They were of course unable to discriminate between ancient and modern names; and I do not find one Bible name among them all:—

From north to west—

Thuggeret el Baider.	Esh-Shemesâni.
Kassar Waijees.	Esh-Shwaifiyeh.
Es-Salt.	Umm Malfoof.

From west to east—

’Abdoon.	Mesdar ’Aishah.
Umm es Swaiweeneh.	El Mergab.

Towards the east—

Merj Merka.	’Ain Ghazâl.
Ursaifah (in a valley with a river).
El Muntar el Kassar, between two artificial hills.

The people informed me of a place, a little nearer than Kerak, called Rabbah. This latter may be a Rabbath-Moab.

I have no further notes to transcribe respecting the architectural remains; but they are so numerous and so important that a week would not suffice for their thorough investigation. All our party were highly gratified at having visited this Rabbath-Ammon—alias Philadelphia—alias, at present, ’Ammân. We were not, however, so fortunate as Lord Lindsay in finding a fulfilment of the prophecy (Ezek. xxv. 5) with respect to camels, either alive or dead. Probably, when he was there, it was soon after an Egyptian military expedition to Kerak. The prodigious number of dead camels that he saw there would seem to indicate that a great Arab battle had been fought at that place shortly before. It is only in this way that we could account for a cannonball (about a six-pounder) which one of the boys carried about, in following us, all the afternoon, wishing us to buy it of him as a curiosity.

On returning to the tents, I found an old Jerusalem acquaintance—a Moslem named ’Abderrahhman Bek el ’Asali—and with him several people from Es-Salt; among these a Christian named Abbâs.

From conversation with them I got some fresh information on Arab affairs. These people took the opportunity of glorifying their native town; related how they are frequently at war, and that successfully, with the ’Adwân; and when acting in concert with the Abbâd, or much more so when in alliance with the Beni Sukh’r, can always repel them; only it happens that sometimes the ’Adwân get help from the more distant ’Anezeh; and this is much more than enough to turn the balance again. But even now the ’Adwân cannot come near the town; neither can they quite forget that the Saltiyeh people, during a former war, killed both the father and grandfather of Dëâb, and sent the head of the former to the tribe in a dish, with a pilaff of rice.

All the strength of the ’Adwân now lies in Shaikh Dëâb, with his son ’Ali, (who came to welcome us near the Jordan,) and Gublân the nephew. Old ’Abdu’l ’Azeez is considered childish, and unfit to lead them.

For us travellers, however, the ’Adwân are sufficient. The territory is theirs over which we are passing, and they do all they can to please us; only, of course, like all Arab guides, they take every opportunity of insinuating themselves into being fed by us, which is a condition “not in the bond.”

Then came a visit of three men with good-natured countenances. These were Bedawi minstrels from Tadmor, (Palmyra,) who wander about from tribe to tribe, singing heroic poems to the accompaniment of their rebâbeh, (a very primitive sort of fiddle.) No warfare interferes with the immunity of their persons or property. They are never injured or insulted, but are always and everywhere welcome, and liberally rewarded. Of course it is for their interest to gratify the pride of their auditors by fervid appeals to their ancestral renown, or to individual prowess and generosity.

The Arabic of their chants is unintelligible to towns-people; it is the high classic language of Antar.

I had made acquaintance with these same men before at Tibneen Castle, near the Lebanon, during a season of Bairam. Being Sunday, we requested them to visit our tents in the morning. Our Arabs, however, and the dragomans kept them singing till a late hour round the fires lighted among the tents. It was a cheerful scene, in the clear starlight, and the lustrous planet Venus reflected in the running stream.

Monday, 14th.—After breakfast, and an entertainment of music from our troubadours, and the bestowing of our guerdon, these left us on their way to the other camp at Na’oor; and our packing up commenced.

Strange medley of costumes and languages among the grand colonnades. Our Arabs left us, having the luggage in charge, and indicating to us the camping-ground where we were to meet again at night—thus leaving us in care of the Saltîyeh friends of ours, who were to escort us to their town and its neighbourhood, as the ’Adwân might not go there themselves.

Both the Christian and Moslem shaikhs of the town came to meet us on the way. The former was a very old man; and he could with difficulty be persuaded to mount his donkey in presence of a train so majestic, in his eyes, coming from the holy city of Jerusalem.

We passed an encampment of Beni Hhasan. These people are few in number, and exist under the shadow of the ’Adwân.

There were plenty of locusts about the country; but we soon came to a vast space of land covered with storks, so numerous as completely to hide the face of the earth, all of them busily employed in feeding—of course devouring the locusts. So great is the blessing derived from the visits of storks, that the natives of these countries regard it as a sin to destroy the birds. On our riding among them they rose in the air, entirely obscuring he sky and the sun from our view. One of our party attempted to fire among them with his revolver, but, by some heedlessness or accident, the bunch of barrels, being not well screwed down flew off the stock and was lost for a time; it took more than half an hour’s search by all of us to find it again, and the Arabs considered this a just punishment for wishing to kill such useful creatures.

We traversed a meadow where Shaikh Faisel, with a detachment of the ’Anezeh, had encamped for pasture, and only left it thirty-five days before. His flocks and herds were described to us as impossible to be counted; but our friends were unanimous in stating that his camels were 1500 in number.

Came to Khirbet es Sar, (Jazer?) whence the Dead Sea was again visible. Our Arabs declared that they could distinguish the Frank mountain, and see into the streets of Bethlehem. Here there is a mere heap of ruin, with cisterns, and fragments of arches, large columns, and capitals; also a very rough cyclopean square building of brown striped flint in huge masses.

This site is three hours due north of Na’oor, in a straight line, not turning aside to Dëâb’s camp or ’Ammân. Northwards hence are the well-wooded hills of ’Ajloon. To my inquiries for any site with a name resembling Nebo, I was referred to the Neba, half an hour south of Heshbon, which is given in the list taken down by me at Heshbon.

Proceeding northwards, we had the hills of Jebel Mâhas parallel on our right hand; and to our left, in a deep glen below, was the source of the stream Se’eer, which had flowed past us at Cuferain, our first encampment after crossing the Jordan.

Arrived at the ruined town (modern in appearance) of Dabook, from whence they say the Dabookeh grapes at Hebron [39] had their origin; but there are none to be seen here now (see Jer. xlviii. 32, 33)—“O vine of Sibmah, I will weep for thee with the weeping of Jazer: thy plants are gone over the sea, they reach even to the sea of Jazer: the spoiler is fallen upon thy summer fruits and upon thy vintage. And joy and gladness is taken from the plentiful field, and from the land of Moab; and I have caused wine to fail from the wine-presses,” etc.: with nearly the same words in Isa. xvi. 8–10.