Byeways in Palestine. James Finn
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