Part 9 (1/2)

Jericho, the city of the Palms, lay a little to our right. We pa.s.sed its outskirts and halted for a rest under Old Jericho, the walls of which the Bible tells us miraculously fell to Joshua's trumpets over 3,000 years ago. This was a thought which acted as a spur to every Jewish soldier, and although the march was a hard one and the worst of it had yet to be done, the men came through the ordeal triumphantly, and very few dropped out by the way. Those who did fall by the wayside were helped along by our Padre, the Rev. L. A. Falk, who gave up his horse to the footsore and carried the pack and rifle of the weary, thus cheering them along into Camp. This time it was the Priest who proved the Good Samaritan on the road to Jericho.

Soon after we recommenced our march from under the walls of old Jericho a huge black column of fine dust, whose top was lost in the Heavens, arose in front of us and gyrated slowly and gracefully as our vanguard, leading us onward to our bivouac on the banks of a cool and pleasant brook, where it vanished. I felt that this was a good omen for our success in the Jordan Valley, for it was a case of the Children of Israel being led once more by a pillar of cloud.

The Headquarters of the Australian Mounted Division was close beside our bivouac, and here I had a very welcome breakfast with Major-General H.

W. Hodgson, its capable and genial Commander. The General told me that he would review the battalion on the following afternoon, on its march out to the new camping ground on the Auja.

Next morning, while the men were resting and refres.h.i.+ng themselves on the banks of the Nueiameh (for so the cool stream was named), I rode down the Valley to the eastward of Jericho, accompanied by our Padre.

We waded through the Wadi Kelt, luxuriant gra.s.s growing where the water had overflowed its banks, showing how fruitful the Valley would be if it were irrigated. We searched the plain to discover, if possible, some traces of the ancient Gilgal, Joshua's G.H.Q., and eventually we came upon what we took to be the site, some three miles to the south-east of Old Jericho. At all events we found some very ancient stonework buried in gra.s.s-grown mounds just about where Gilgal might be looked for, and I feel sure that if excavations were carried out here some very interesting discoveries would be made.

After we had briefly examined the ruins, I suggested to the Padre that we should go and breakfast in Jericho, if indeed we could find a caravanserai there, so in search of a hostelry we rode into the modern city of the Palms.

It proved to be but a poor tumble-down jumble of buildings, as might have been expected. However, as we rode along, we came upon a somewhat pretentious looking building on which was painted ”The Gilgal Hotel.”

Whatever doubt there may have been about the ancient Gilgal, here at any rate was a modern one, the discovery of which at this moment was most opportune, for we were both decidedly hungry after our explorations.

As we rode into the courtyard a dozen Arab urchins who had been lounging about made a dash for our horses, each eager to grasp the reins in the hope of some ”baksheesh.” An elderly dame, on hearing the scuffle, emerged from a doorway, scattered the surplus boys, and called loudly, ”Victoria, Victoria.” A musical voice from a room above responded to this familiar name, and, on looking up, we saw a buxom, olive-tinted damsel step on to the balcony. A voluble dialogue then took place between mother and daughter, the result of which was that Victoria, in excellent English, invited us up to breakfast. We had a most sumptuous feast, or so it appeared to us, inured as we were to plain Camp fare. I was particularly pleased with the flavour of the honey, which Victoria informed me was taken from a hive in the garden. The milk, too, was good and plentiful, so we had at last reached the ”land flowing with milk and honey.”

Before we left, I asked our fair hostess how it came about that she, a Syrian damsel, was known as Victoria, to which she promptly replied, ”Because I am Queen of Jericho.”

Some time afterwards I made a special visit to Old Jericho. Naturally, during the 3,000 odd years that have elapsed since its capture by Joshua, the old city has got silted up and the place has been covered over by soil washed down from the Judaean hills; but just before the War a party of Antiquarians commenced excavation work and exposed several buildings of the old city, some twenty or thirty feet below the surface of the ground. There the lintels and door-posts of wood may still be seen embedded in the brickwork, but they are all turned into charcoal, probably from the fire which consumed the city by Joshua's command.

It will be remembered that the rebuilding of Jericho was forbidden under a terrible curse, ”Cursed be the man before the Lord that riseth up and buildeth this city Jericho; he shall lay the foundation thereof in his firstborn, and in his youngest son shall he set up the gates of it.”

The Battalion left its pleasant bivouac by the Nueiameh at 5 o'clock in the afternoon, and waded across through its cool waters; when we had marched through the appalling dust of the Valley for some three miles, I observed General Hodgson waiting to review us on the far side of a steep nullah. I cantered on, and took my place beside the General and his A.D.C., Captain Buxton.

I am certain that a review was never held under more peculiar circ.u.mstances.

The men marched in column of fours, platoon after platoon, down one side of the steep gully and up the other, and then past the General, who apparently expected to see them marching as steadily as if they had been in the Long Valley at Aldershot; and the strange part of it is that they _were_ marching steadily, shoulder to shoulder, in spite of the difficult ground which they had to negotiate and the enormous load they had to carry. They were one ma.s.s of dust from head to foot. Nothing could be seen of their faces except a pair of eyes blinking out of a countenance which looked as if it had been dipped in a flour barrel and then streaked with lines of soot, for rivulets of black sweat ran in parallel lines down their dust-covered faces.

It was the funniest sight I ever saw in my life, but the men were as grave as owls. I could hardly keep my face straight when, on the command ”eyes left” being given, they turned their comical looking faces boldly up to the General!

I remarked to him that it was a bit of an ordeal to review them just after scrambling down and up the steep sides of a gully, and he replied, ”That is exactly why I am here. I want to see how they shape under the most difficult possible circ.u.mstances, and I must congratulate you on their soldierly bearing and steadiness.”

The Battalion certainly did itself credit that day, for it was no light ordeal to go through, considering the dust and heat, and the enormous weight that the unfortunate men had to carry stowed away on every part of the person.

When we had completed about six miles of the march towards our camping place at the Auja, we were met by the Brigade Major of the 12th Cavalry Brigade, an energetic Staff Officer, who, besides coming himself, had thoughtfully provided guides to lead us into the Camp in the darkness.

It must be remembered that we were now within sight and range of the Turkish guns, and all large bodies of troops had to move in the dark. We were very glad to reach our bivouac on the Auja, which is a pleasant, swiftly-flowing streamlet, with many cool and shady nooks amid the foliage which grows in profusion along its banks.

CHAPTER XII.

OUR POSITION IN THE MELLAHAH.

We were now attached to the 12th Cavalry Brigade, commanded by Brigadier-General J. T. Wigan, and on the 16th, 17th, and 18th August we took over D and E sections of the Desert Corps front line, relieving the 19th Indian Lancers and the 6th Indian Cavalry Regiments. We were unfortunately only a few days with the 12th Brigade, which was moved to Ludd soon after we were posted to it.

The Jordan Valley, at the place where we were entrenched, is about fifteen miles wide and is over 1,200 feet below sea level. It is for the most part fairly flat, but is intersected here and there by huge ravines, which are in places quite narrow, and at others some hundreds of yards across, with sheer cliffs some thirty to fifty feet high as banks. Looking at the valley from the hills that border it, one would never suspect the existence of these great rifts. The River Jordan runs in the centre of one of these depressions, which in places is 50 to 100 feet below the ordinary level of the rest of the valley.

The Wadi Mellahah is another huge cleft or rift, running about a mile to the west of, and more or less parallel to, the Jordan. It is some 10 miles long, and varies from a few score yards to a mile in width. Steep cliffs and slopes shut it in on both sides, and make the bed of the Mellahah about as hot and stifling a spot as can well be imagined, while, to add further abomination to it, noxious fumes arose in places from its barren and desolate looking sides and bed. A tiny, briny streamlet runs its straggling course through it in the dry season, although in places it spreads out into large reed-covered swamps. The water of this rivulet was so salt that a single drop was more than one could bear to take on the tip of one's tongue.