Part 26 (1/2)

At nine o'clock we came to a high sandbank, beneath which was a verdant line of tamarisk, and ghar, and tall canes, with frogs croaking among them. All of these were indications of water; and, accordingly, we found a spring named _'Ain Taasan_, being one of those which together form the stream of _Buwairdeh_. Here we filled our water vessels to the utmost, as it was not expected we should find any more good water for two days to come.

The surrounding prospect was one of utter desolation, and I took out my Bible and read the words of 2 Kings iii. 8,-9, and 20: ”And he said, Which way shall we go up? And he answered, The way through the wilderness of Edom. So the king of Israel went, and the king of Judah, and the king of Edom; and they fetched a compa.s.s of seven days' journey: and there was no water for the host, and for the cattle that followed them . . . And it came to pa.s.s in the morning, when the meat-offering was offered, that, behold, there came water by the way of Edom, and the country was filled with water.”

On the spot, as well as at the present time, I remembered with pain the deplorable weakness and wickedness of the remarks on this event contained in Paine's ”Age of Reason,” and which I do not choose to repeat. The most charitable opinion that one can entertain of such writers is that they know nothing of the nature of the country under consideration.

Thank G.o.d that the world at large, and that land in particular, is now better known than formerly, and, as a consequence, our evidences of the truth of the blessed Bible are daily the more confirmed.

We then proceeded northwards along the bed of that stream; but in a few minutes its water was lost in the sand. In another hour we entered the dry bed of the _Wadi el Jaib_, and continued along its course in the direction of the Dead Sea.

The hills were misty on both sides, and the ground hot beneath, as we tramped along, all our voices hushed during the ”strength of the heat,”

(according to Arab expression,) and the footfall of the camels entirely without noise.

Who can sufficiently admire the adaptation of this creature to the desert, in which the Maker and Ruler of all has placed him? No heat exceeds the power of his endurance; steadily, patiently, silently he stalks his long strides over the yellow ground--one animal following another in regular military step. And during our travels at least he never flagged--the large eyes never lost their brightness; and who ever saw a camel, even though his master may seek rest or shade as he finds opportunity, shrink from the blazing brightness of the sun?

Halted for the night shortly before five P.M., the journey having been one of eleven hours. But the Arabs insisted on our being placed behind the corner of a re-entering valley, in order that our fire and smoke might not be seen during the night by hostile people from a distance.

Thermometer at sunset, 81.5 degrees Fahrenheit.

We found footprints of gazelles, storks, and hyenas.

Mount Hor at that distance, and in that direction, very much resembles the Salisbury Crags of Edinburgh.

_April_ 9_th_--Sunrise, Fahrenheit 63.5 degrees. Tents struck, and all on the march by half-past five. Losing sight of Mount Hor.

At a quarter to eight a breeze sprung up from the north, so refres.h.i.+ng in that hot and dry wilderness as to merit the praise of the Bedawi poem, beginning--

”Shemali, ya hawa ed-deeret shemali.”

”The north! O thou wind of the northern direction, It has increased my blessing, and all that belongs to me, And after weakness of state, has changed my condition.”

I find, however, that this literal translation gives but a very poor idea of the feeling concentrated in the words of the original, and only feebly expresses the reminiscence of that time as still preserved at the moment of this writing.

Soon after eight o'clock we were out of the Wadi el Jaib, that is to say, the high cliffs of marl on each side abruptly terminated, previous to which, they had been at first more than a hundred feet above our heads, and then gradually diminis.h.i.+ng in height as we advanced. We descended gradually into the semicircular expanse of marshes called El Ghuwair or the Little Ghor, with the large Dead Sea and the _Khash'm Usdum_, or salt mountain of Sodom, spread out before us.

The course of the wadi we had left trended from south-east to north-east, on issuing from which we took the line on the western side of the Ghuwair, and easily descended over small eminences. This place is most probably the ”ascent of Akrabbim,” (Num. x.x.xiv. 4, and Josh. xv. 3,) the southern boundary of the land given to Israel, and named after its abundance of scorpions. In our hasty pa.s.sage over it we saw none of these.

Among the marshes we found several palms growing wild. They were stumpy in stature, and ragged in form for want of cultivation, or perhaps of congenial soil. The miasma was strongly perceptible to the smell, and our horses were plagued with flies and gnats. How great was this change from the pure dry air of the mountains!

Quarter to ten at _'Ain 'Aroos_, (the bridegroom's fountain,) but the water was brackish.

Thermometer in the shade, 83.5 degrees Fahrenheit.

For an hour past our people had been on the alert, on account of a feud between them and the Ghawarineh Arabs. On coming up to the print of a human footstep, this was carefully examined as to its size, direction of the tread, etc. The circ.u.mstances were not, however, exactly parallel to the occurrence in Robinson Crusoe, which naturally came to mind.

At twenty minutes to eleven, having completed the western curve of the Ghuwair, we fell in with the _Wadi Hhuggereh_, which came up from the south-west, and on looking back, perceived a distinct mirage visible over the dry sands which occupy part of the Ghuwair, probably the effect of a salty deposit.

About noon we arrived at a clear, running stream of water, but which proved, on tasting, to be highly impregnated with salt. The surface of the plain was in a great measure covered with a white efflorescence.

Along the middle of this plain there was a sunken channel of a mile and a half in length, occupied by an overflowing of the Dead Sea, which, however, did not interfere with our track.