that byand by Jericho would be insupportable.
So papa and Suleiman made their arrangements. All that wewanted was a guard of Arabs; everything else we had already.The rain ceased after the third day; and early in the morningwe went out of the eastern gate of the city and moved slowlydown the slope of the Kedron valley and up the side of MountOlivet.
It was my first ride in the environs of Jerusalem; and I couldhardly bear the thoughts it brought up. Yet there was scanttime for thoughts; eyes had to be so busy. The valley of theKedron! I searched its depths, only to find tombs everywhere,with olive trees sprinkled about among them. Life and death;for if anything is an emblem of life in Palestine, I supposeit is the olive. They looked sad to me at first, the olives;their blue-gray foliage had so little of the fresh cheer ofour green woods. Afterwards I thought differently. Butcertainly the valley of the Kedron was desolate and mournfulin the extreme, as we first saw it. Nor was Olivet less so.The echo of forfeited promises seemed to fill my ear; theshades of lost glory seemed to tenant all those ways andhillsides. I could but think what feet had trod those paths;what hands of blessing had been held out on these hills;turned back and rejected, to the utter ruin of those whorejected them. The places of Solomon's splendour and David'shonour, in the hands of the Moslem; or buried beneath theruins of twenty desolations. And in the midst of such thoughtswhich possessed me constantly, came thrills of joy that I wasthere. So we mounted over the shoulder of the Mount of Olives,and the day cleared and brightened as we went on. Then camethe ruins of Bethany. I would have liked to linger there; butthis was not the time. I left it for the present.
"We must dismount here, Daisy," said papa the next minute. Andhe set me the example. "Our own feet will do this next pieceof road most satisfactorily."
We scrambled down, over the loose stones and rock, the verysteep pitch just below Bethany. I do not know how deep, buthundreds of feet certainly. Our mules and horses came on asthey could.
"Is this to be taken as a specimen of Palestine roads, Daisy?"
"I believe they are pretty bad, papa."
"How do you like it?"
"Oh, papa," said I, stopping, "I like it. Look - look yonder -do you see that glimmer? do you know what that is, papa?"
"It is water -"
"It is the Dead Sea."
"Thirty-six hundred feet below. We have a sharp ride beforeus, Daisy."
"Not quite so much below us - we have come down some way.Papa, don't you enjoy it?"
"I enjoy _you_," he said, smiling. "Yes, child, I enjoy it; onlyI don't enjoy such villainous roads."
"But then, papa, you know it is the only possible way the roadcan go, and always has been; and so we are sure that Christwas here many a time. _Here_, papa, where our feet aretreading."
Papa looked at me and said nothing.
The way was so pleasant, that we walked on ahead of our mules,till we came to the spring about a mile from Bethany. It wasstrange to look at the water pouring out its never failingstream, and to remember it had been doing just so ever sincenineteen hundred years ago.
"How often travellers have rested here and drunk of the water,papa; how often Christ was here."
"That arch was not over the spring in those days, though,"said papa.
But papa stood and looked at the spring and at the ravine, andI saw that he was catching something of my feeling. We mountedthere, and the rest of the way we had no more talk. I did notwant to talk. There was too much to think about, as we wounddown the rough valleys or watercourses among the desolatehills; while the air grew constantly warmer as we got lower.No trees, no life, no vine terraces; and this was the way toJericho. At the ruined khan, a good distance from the top, wedismounted and stopped to rest and take our lunch.
"Well, Daisy," said papa, "are you enjoying yet?"
"Every minute, papa."
"I am very glad. But I am very tired."
"Papa, you must take a good rest here; and here is an orangefor you. I will give you something else directly."
Papa stretched himself out wearily on the stones.
"What is the source of your pleasure just now, Daisy? It is asbarren a landscape as ever I traversed."
"Papa, David went this way when he fled from Absalom."
"Humph!" said papa, as if there were not much pleasure in thatassociation.
"And Jesus and His apostles came this way, up from Jericho; upand down, I suppose, many a time; they have rested _here_,papa."
"And I see, Daisy, you love the ground where those feet havetrod. I never could understand it before. I fancy, I couldnever attain power of realisation to get near enough to thesubject."
"Do you now, papa?"
"Hardly. By sympathy with you, Daisy."
"A little below, papa, we shall come to the Valley of Achor,where Achan was stoned."
"I don't know that story, Daisy. You may read it to me."
We had a long reading and resting there by the ruined khan.Papa was ready to listen and talk; and I saw that so long aswe were in Palestine he would read the Bible as much as Iliked. Then we made the rest of our way. I knew he could notbut be interested with that. The scenery became so wild andgrand as to satisfy even him. We got the glorious view of theplains of Jericho from the top of the steep descent, and stoodstill for some time to look. Papa said it was a noble view;but to me it was so full of the riches of association that Icould hardly feast upon it enough. Down there, Jericho of oldhad stood and fallen; when the priests and the people ofIsrael compassed it about with trumpets of victory. There, orover against it, the Jordan had been divided to let the peoplepass over. In later days Elijah and Elisha had gone oversingle-handed. Down on that plain had stood Herod's Jericho,which Christ had gone through time and again; where Zaccheusclimbed the tree to see Him, and Bartimeus sitting by thewayside had cried out for his mercy and got it. What was therebefore me in all that scene that did not tell of the power offaith - of the grace of God - of the safety and strength ofHis children - of the powerlessness of their enemies. My heartsang hymns and chanted psalms of rejoicing, while my littleSyrian pony stood still with me at the top of the pass ofAdummim. I even forgot papa.
At the bottom we found ourselves in a new world. Water andwood, luxuriant vegetation of many kinds; a stream even toford, the brook which comes down from Wady Kelt, now full withthe rains; a warm delicious atmosphere, and the sun shining onthe opposite Moab mountains.
And then came another sight which is very pleasant at theclose of a long day of fatigue and excitement; our tents, upand ready for us. Our Syrian cook gave us a good dinner; andpapa was satisfied to see me so happy. I thought he was alittle happy himself.
CHAPTER XV.
OLD BATTLEFIELDS
The next day papa was so tired that he would not go anywhere.So I had to be quiet too. It was no hardship. I was ratherglad, to take in leisurely the good of all I had before andaround me, and have time for it. Our tents were pitched by thebeautiful fountain Aines-Sult?n; which the books told me wasElisha's fountain. I wandered round it, examining the strangetrees and bushes, gathering flowers; I found a great many;studying the lights and shades on the Moab mountains, andcasting longing looks towards the Dead Sea and the Jordan. Itook my maid with me in my wanderings, and Suleiman also keptnear me like a shadow; but nobody of all our caravan behavedto me with anything but the most observant politeness. TheArabs, taught, I suppose, by other travellers whom they hadattended, were very eager to bring me natural curiosities;birds and animals and shells and plants. I had no lack ofbusiness and pleasure all that day. I wanted only some one totalk to me who could tell me things I wanted to know.
The day had come to an end, almost; the shadow of Quarantaniahad fallen upon us; and I sat on a rock by the spring,watching the colours of the sunset still bright on the treesin the plain, on the water of the sea, and on the range of theMoab hills. From all these my thoughts had at last wanderedaway, and were busy at the other end of the world; sad, with agreat sense that Mr. Thorold was away from me; heavy, with amoment's cont
rast of pleasures present and pleasures past. Mymusings were suddenly broken by seeing that some one was closeby my side, and a single glance said, a stranger. I wasstartled and rose up, but the stranger stood still and seemedto wish to speak to me. Yet he did not speak. I saw the air ofa gentleman, the dress of a European in Syria, the outlines ofa personable man; one glance at his face showed me a bronzedcomplexion, warm-coloured auburn hair, and a frank and verybright eye. I looked away, and then irresistibly was driven tolook back again. He smiled. I was in confusion.
"Don't you know?" he said.
"Not -?"
"Yes!"
"Can it be, - Mr. Dinwiddie?"
"Is it possible it is Daisy?" he said, taking my hand.
"Oh, Mr. Dinwiddie, I am so glad to see you!"
"And I am so glad to see you - here, of all places, atElisha's fountain. The first question is, How came we bothhere?"
"I persuaded papa to bring me. I wanted to see Palestine."
"And I heard of you in Jerusalem, and felt sure it must beyou, and I could not resist the temptation to take a littlejourney after you."
"And you are travelling through Palestine too?"
"In one way. I am living here - and life is a journey, youknow."
"You are _living_ in Palestine?"
"In Jerusalem. I came here as a missionary, five years ago."
"How very nice!" I said. "And you can go with us?"
He shook my hand heartily, which he had not yet let go,laughing, and asked where we were going?
"I want to see the Dead Sea, very much, Mr. Dinwiddie; andpapa was in doubt; but if you were with us there would be nomore difficulty."
"I shall be most happy to be with you. Do you know where youare now?"
"I know a little. This is Elisha's fountain, isn't it?"
"Yes; and just hereabouts are the ruins of old Jericho."
"I did not know. I wondered, and wanted to know. But, Mr.Dinwiddie, have you got a tent?"
"I never travel without one."
"Then it is all right," I said; "for we have a cook."
"I should not miss that functionary," he said, shaking hishead. "I am accustomed to act in that capacity myself. It issomething I have learned since I came from Virginia."
We were called to dinner and had no time then for anythingmore. Our table was spread in front of the tents, in a clearspot of greensward; in the midst, I thought, of all possibledelights that could be clustered together - except one. Thebreeze was a balmy, gentle evening zephyr; the sunlight,hidden from us by the Quarantania, shone on the oppositemountains of Moab, bringing out colours of beauty; and glancedfrom the water of the Dead Sea, and brightened the hues of thegreen thickets on the plain. Jericho behind us, the Jordan infront of us, the confusions of the world we live in thrust toa great distance out of the way, - I sat down to the open-airmeal with a profound feeling of gratitude and joy. It was alsoa relief to me to have Mr. Dinwiddie's company with papa; heknew the land and the people and the ways of the land, andcould give such good help if help were needed. He could besuch good society too.
I fancied that papa's reception of Mr. Dinwiddie was ratherslack in its evidence of pleasant recollection; but however,every shadow of stiffness passed away from his manner beforedinner was over. Mr. Dinwiddie made himself very acceptable;and there, where we had so much to talk about, talk flowed infull stream. It was arranged that the new member of our partyshould be our guest and our travelling companion during asmuch of our journey as his duties allowed; and I went to sleepthat night with a deep and full sense of satisfaction.
Papa declared himself still the next day unable for a verylong and exciting day's work; so it was decided that we shouldput off till the morrow our ride to the Jordan and the DeadSea, and Mr. Dinwiddie proposed to conduct me to MountQuarantania to see the hermits' caves which are remainingthere. Of course they remain; for the walls of caves do notcrumble away; however, the staircases and rock ways which ledto the upper ones have many of them suffered that fate.
We had a delicious walk. First along the foot of the mountain,skirting a little channel of running water which brings theoutflow of another fountain to enrich a part of the plain. Itwas made good for the cultivation of a large tract; althoughvery wild and disorderly cultivation. As we went, every spotwithin sight was full of interest; rich with associations; theair was warm but pleasant; the warble of the orange-wingedblackbird - I don't know if I ought to call it a warble; itwas a very fine and strong note, or whistle, - sounding fromthe rocks as we went by, thrilled me with a wild reminder ofall that had once been busy life there, where now theblackbird's cry sounded alone. The ruins of what had been, -the blank, that was once so filled up, - the forlorn repose,where the stir of the ages had been so restlessly active. Iheard Mr. Dinwiddie's talk as we went, he was telling andexplaining things to me. I heard, but could not make muchanswer. Thought was too full.
A good distance from home, that is, from the tents, we reachedthe source of all that fertilising water the channel of whichwe had followed up. How wild the source was too! No Saracenicarch over that; the water in a full flow came out from amongthe roots of a great tree - one of the curious thorny d?mtrees that grow in thickets over the plain. I believe ourArabs called them d?m; Mr. Dinwiddie said it was a Zizyphus.It was a very large tree at any rate, and with its odd thornybranches and bright green foliage canopied picturesquely thefine spring beneath it. All was wild and waste. The Arabs donot even root out the d?m or nubk trees from the spots theyirrigate and cultivate; but the little channels of water flowin and out among the stems and roots of the trees as they can.Times are changed on Jericho's plain.
I thought so, as we turned up the slope of rock rubbish whichleads to the foot of the cave cliffs. The mountain here is asheer face of rock; and the caves, natural or artificial,pierce the rock in tiers, higher and lower. The precipice isspotted with them. The lowest ones are used now by the Arabsto pen their sheep and quarter their donkeys; Mr. Dinwiddieand I looked into a good many of them; in one or two we founda store of corn or straw laid up. Many of the highest cavescould not be got at; the paths and stairs in the rock whichused to lead to them are washed and worn away; but the secondtier are not so utterly cut off from human feet. By a waychiselled in the rock, with good nerves, one can reach them.My nerves were good enough, and I followed Mr. Dinwiddie alongthe face of the precipice till we reached some sets of cavescommunicating with each other. These were partly natural,partly enlarged by labour. Places were cut for beds and forcupboards; there was provision of a fine water tank, to which,Mr. Dinwiddie told me, there were stone channels leading froma source some hundreds of feet distant; cistern and tubes bothcarefully plastered. A few Abyssinian Christians come hereevery spring to keep Lent, Mr. Dinwiddie said. How much morepains they take than we do, I thought.
"Yes," said Mr. Dinwiddie, when I said my thought aloud, -" 'Skin for skin; all that a man hath will he give for hislife.' But when the conscience knows that heaven is not to bebought that way, then there is no other motive left that willuse up all a man's energies but the love of Christconstraining him."
"The trouble is, Mr. Dinwiddie, that there is so little ofthat."
"So little!" he said, - "even in those of us who love most. Ido not mean to say that this love had no share in determiningthe actions of those who used to live here; perhaps theythought to get nearer to Christ by getting nearer to theplaces of His some time presence and working in human flesh."
"And don't you think it does help, Mr. Dinwiddie?" I said.
He turned on me a very deep and sweet look, that was half asmile.
"No!" he answered. "The Lord may use it, - He often does, - toquicken our sense of realities and so strengthen ourapprehension of spiritualities; but just so He can use otherthings, even remote distance from such and all material helps.Out of that very distance He can make a tie to draw the soulto Himself."
"There must have been a great many of those old Christiansliving here once?" I said.
"Yes," said Mr
. Dinwiddie. "On this face of the mountain thereare thirty or forty caves - I think there are many more in thegorge of the Kelt, round on the south face. Do you see thatround hole over your head?"
We were standing in one of the caverns. I looked up.
"I cannot get you up there," he went on, - "but I have climbedup by means of a rope. There are other rooms there, and one isa chapel - I mean, it was one, - with arches cut to thewindows and doorways, and frescoed walls, full of figures ofsaints. Through another hole in another ceiling, like this, Igot up into still a third set of rooms, like the ones below.Into those nobody had come for many a year; the dust witnessedit. Back of one room, the chapel, was a little low doorway;very low. I crept through - and there in the inner place, laypiled the skeletons of the old hermits; skulls and bones, justas they had been laid while the flesh was still upon them; thedust was inches deep. A hundred feet higher up there are morecaverns. No, I should not like to take you - though theAbyssinian devotees come to them every spring. Yet higher thanthose, far up, near the top of the mountain, I have exploredothers, where I found still more burial caves like the onejust here above us. Chapels and frescoes were up there too."
"And difficult climbing, Mr. Dinwiddie."
"Very difficult. Broken stairs and dizzy galleries, and deepprecipices, with the vultures floating in air down below me."
"What a place for men to live!"
"Fitter for the doves and swallows which inhabit the oldhermits' houses