Wady esh-Scherif — Wady Mazarayat — Wady Saidat — Wady Jaifah — The Serab — Wady Ain — Wady Seram — Arab Quarrel and Reconciliation — Wady Senieh — Wady-el-Abdeh — Wady en-Neheyah

Wacly-esh-ScJieHf, Salhat/i, Feb. 10. — The morning was cloudy, Lut not rainy. Through the night the showers and -svind were vehement; and though the continued rain did force its way through our canvass in Bome parts, still on the whole we suffered little. After breakfast and worship, wdiile we were reading in our tent.s, the sheikh came in, with several of the men. We found that not even he could read his own tongue. One of the men, who was a relation of his, could do so; but no other. This man greatly attracted u.s. His name was Mu.stapha, and his appearance is well remembered by us all. He was above the sliL’ikh and abov’e all his ft’Uows in manners and education. Not very tall, yet, beyond middle size, — slenderly but well made in his frame, with a most winning countenance, almost feminine in its features, and less tawny in complexion than his fellows, he drew us to himself in sympathy as 1 went out and in amongst us. He was the gentlest Ara we had seen, of a finer spirit and a lighter step, — wit an eye as soft in its blue as those of the others were fiei in their blackness. Sorry that our want of Arabic pr vented our free converse, we did our best to supply tl defect. Ere starting, I had got a friend to write for n in English characters the Arabic of John iii. 16, froi Walton’s Polyglott, — “God so loved the world, that 1 gave his only-begotten Son;” but somehow or oth( the Arabs seemed not to comprehend it, though we trie in all manner of ways to make them understand i Haji-Ismail said it was not good Arabic, mean in thereby, not such as he understood. Very likely it W£ the Arabic of literature, and so not understood by tl Bedaween. Giving up this, we betook ourselves to I Assaad Kayat’s “Eastern Traveller’s Interpreter.” I this we found Acts xvi. 31, “Believe in the Lord Jesi Christ, and thou shalt be saved,” Amen belmadsseefatookhldss. We tried this sentence with the Arabs, an first of all with our intelligent friend of the blue eye He and they took it up at once, and with evident d( light repeated the words to us again and again. The had indeed little idea of its meaning, but still it was seed dropt into their minds, which might spring up i happier circumstances; for it is of these that the pn phetic word has spoken, —

“The dwellers in the wilderness shall bow before him.”

(Psa. lxxii. 9.)

rhcy continued in our tent for upwards of an hour. It drew nigh to the hour of our “pubHc service,” and still they remained; nor did we like to bid them in. At last we resolved to go on in their presence. AN’.; sung, and they sat listening and wondering. We read, and they continued still seated. We knelt for prayer, and, for a little, they remained looking on in silence; till at last, before the prayer was ended, they had risen from their seats and gone out of the tent.

The Koran is as great a stranger to these Bedaween, as was the Bible to the monks of Sinai In Alexandria or Cairo one sees occasionally a Moslem reading the Koran, but even this is rare. No doubt it is read to them in their mosques, and all of them can repeat verses of it; but that is all. Of its contents they know little. There is the less excuse for this among the Arabs, because the Korfm is pure Arabic, and would be perfectly intelhgible to them; whereas to the Turks it mu.st be in a great measure a sealed book, as the Arabic and Turkish are widely different, and as the Prophet’s law forbids a translation of his sacred volume.

In the afternoon we sat under cover, reading. The evening was cold and cloudy. — at last rainy. Putting a few stones together, .Mr ‘right had made a fire for us, not of sticks like the apostle, but of ciiarcoal from our dragoman’s ciiarcoal -bag. ^^’e sat round, reading 8ev( ral books aloud; and, in plea.sant converse, we soon forgot the rain, which, at eight o’clock, began to batter on our tents.

Wady-esh-Schcrif, Monday, Feb. 11, — A cloudy dawn, though the rain had ceased. Thermometer at 58° in our tent. We started at a quarter before ten. Passed Jehel-esh-Scherif, and saw Jebd Hdldl on the left. On the distant right Jehel-en-Nekhah. At twelve pa.ssedinto Wady-el-Muzeiryah, crossing Wady-el-Lus- 8on. The road for several hours over soft, slimy sand, in which our camels were continually slipping. One or two of them came quite down, but did no injury to themselves, or their loads, or their riders. When the surface of the sand is moist with recent rain, the way becomes unpleasant and dangerous for camel-travelling. Over rocks however rough, over stones however numerous, over dry sand however deep, the camel will go without fear. But the surlace-softness of clayey soil brinsfs him to a stand. He 1 rembles when he comes to it, and a traveller’s best way is at once to dismount. It was painful to see the slipping and struggling of the huge animals under their heavy loads. In the course of the afternoon we visited a small Arab encampment. The black tent or awning -was set up with its back, as usual, to the wind. The owner was there smoking, and his wife was winnowing corn, tossing it up from a large sheet or blanket of camel-hair which was spread upon the ground. The wife fled at our approach, but the man bid us welcome, — handing us his pipe and offering to make ready coffee, which, however, we declined, as the day was getting down. We then passed into Wady Said at about four; then into Wady Jaifah about five, w’here we encamped. The day was rather dreary-. AVe went through wide and uninteresting wadys. But v. e noticed that the verdure was on the increase, and wo seemed to be getting to transition-ground. We met with many plants of the bulbous kind, — and were surprised to hear the Arabs call them bulbs.

A family of vagrant Bedaween accompanied us, whether for the sake of company, or to catch an opportunity of stealing, we could not say. Our men did not like them. They consisted of man and wife, with three little half-naked children. They were lean and ill-fed, and received with great avidity any fragments of biscuit that we could spare. The offer of a piece of breai I or biscuit was the only thing that overcame the shyne.ss of the children and induced them to approach us. They greedily dug up the edible roots by the way, and feasted on them, not by way of luxuries as our Arabs did, but of necessaries, as hungry men would do, reminding us of Job’s description of the desert vagrants in his day —

By want and hunger they were lean;

Roosting up the wilderness

In former times desolate and waste.

They plucked up mallows by the bushes,

And the roots of retham were their food.

From the midst were they driven,

(Men cried after them as a thief,)

In the clefts of the torrents to pitch their tents,

In the caves of the earth and the rocks.

Among the buslies they cried;

Under the nettles they were gathered together. —

(Job XXX. 3-7.)

Wady Jaifah, Tuesday, Feb. 12. — Walked out at seven to ecjoy the cloudless morning. Started for our day’s march at a quarter-past nine. In about an hour came to a part of the wady that spreads out into a plain, where there is a large number of stones, from one foot to two feet square. Some were in circles, others in long double lines like the foundations of walls. They seemed the ruins of an old town, or perhaps of terrace walls. The Arabs called them El-Kheizeh. One of our men brought us a little animal, which we have often seen running about and escaping into holes in the sand. It is somewhat like a large rat, but with long hind legs, short front ones, and a long tail. They call it Jerboa. Another of our men brought us one of the bulbous roots which gTow here, wishing us to eat, and assuring us that it was Tayib, good. We found that it is only one or two kinds that they eat. The rest are milsh-tayib, “not good.” Those that we were asked to eat were the smaller kind, like a crocus or small lily. The Arabs called them Gafor, or Khafur. We saw great numbers of bulbs, like snowdrops, crocuses, &c. About half-past twelve, having passed through Wady Retemdt, we entered Wady Kuseimeh, where, as in some previous wadys, there were great quantities of a plant called Jef, very green, like parsley in aiDpearance, but which the camels would not taste. Vegetation is on the increase as we move northwards, and we heard to-day the hum of the bee on the Rittem, which sounded pleasantly, and rexxxiutJed us that we were on the borders of a more

THE PLOUGH. 2!)3

fruitful land — “the land flowing with milk and honey.” “We again came upon circles and lines of stones, like ruins. We passed through a wady which might be called” the stony’/’ from its being covered with small stones, on each side of which rose up peaked hills of white sandstone, broken up into precipices. The serab this afternoon took the form of a distant sea, studded over with islands, between which many a goodly vessel went and came.

At a quarter-past two we passed some long lines of stone, with ruins of considerable extent spreading over a large part of Wady-el-Ain, on which we had entered half an hour before. Our Arabs did not know any name for these ruins; all that our stately dragoman could tell us was that they were “Roman;” but to his information we could attach no value. We saw Jebel-el-Moilah and Jebel-el-Ain, long low ranges of peaks half white and half brown. This is a most spacious plain, fall of vegetation, which extends for miles. It is by far the greenest and moistest spot that we have seen. It is said to be watered by a regidar brook, but this we did not see. But we saw snowdrops, mushrooms, and gra.ss in large patches. We passed a field which had been recently ploughed, or at least scratched by the oriental instrument which bears the name of plough, but which seemed to us little more than a long and tolerable thick branch of a tree, with a crook at one end, and fa-shioned soniewhat into the shape of a plough. The ground was first broken up with an axe or hatchet,

?.94! WADY SERAM.

and then furrowed with this rude plough. We (Usmounted here for a walk. It was quite a relief to find ourselves upon moist soil, after weeks of hard dry sand and stones. The very air seemed fresher and more genial. Our feet felt nimbler and our limbs more elastic as we moved along. We reached Wddy es-Serchn about half-past four, and a little after this, we halted and encamped. We were to have gone forward to Hafir, but we stopped short at Seram, I suppose from the indolence of our Arabs, who disliked all haste and loved loitering, always glad to be done with travel or with work.

This is a spacious wady, well clothed with the vegetation of the desert, and with appearances of something more. Immediately on arriving, we set out for a walk, as we had then more than an hour of sunlight to make use of We found several cultivated fields of considerable size, with corn beginning to shew itself in some of them. Right across the valley ran long lines of stones, at short intervals. They were not the foundations of houses, — but were evidently thrown across to retain the soil in its place, and prevent the rush of the occasional torrent from sweeping it away. These lines might be two or three hundred yards long, — some even longer, and were made of well-squared stones, fitting into each other, and forming a strong bulwark against the stream. On one of them we found an inscription done much in the same style as the Mukatteb writings. The stone was evidently not in the original site, and the inscription was a trifling one. It was as follows -Jr One could not pretend to decipher it. These stones v.ere not the work of Bedaween, — but of an older date, and raised by more skilful hands. The present inhabitants were but making use of what a more ingenious population had bequeathed to them. They were originally, perhaps, Roman, afterwards keyt up by the Christian inhabitants of the locality.

It might be indeed that they were older than Roman; — for the patriarchs occupied an undefined range of territory in this neighbourhood; and here there seemed to meet three different races, the Egyptian from the south, the Philistine from the west, and the patriarchs from the north. Away far to the south-east of this, was Wacbj GJiudhaghidh, perhaps, as we have already suggested, the Gudgodah of Scripture. It is not only the similarity of names that suggests this, but the likeness of the region round about to that described by Moses. It is said that “from Gudgodah to Jothath was a land of rivers of waters” (Deut. x. 7), and perhaps IsTael sojourned in this neighbourhood many days or years. They went towards Mount Hor at first where Aaron died; and reg.cnling this we read that “Israel took their j(jurney from Beerotli of the children of Jaakan to Mosera; there Aaron died, and there he was buried” (l)cut. X. 6). After t..is they proceeded westward to Gudgodah and after that to Jotbath, their route being evidently of a zig-zag kind. The narrative intimates that this region wa.s well-waturud and fruitful, which we liml to be the case to this day. We hod just passed through Wady-el~Ain, whose name implies springs or fountains. Not far off was Wadi/-el-Birein, the “valley of the two wells,” which may be the place named Beo-Toth-heneij-jaahan (Deut. x. 6; Numb, xxxiii. 31), the “wells of the sons of Jaakan.” It is in this region too that water is got from holes dug in the soil, named Emshdsh, and from pits of a deeper kind called Themileh. So that the names of the places, as well as the appearance of the country, shews that it is considered a well-watered region, and might fitly be called Jothath or “goodness,” to signify the abundance that was there,

I pulled up some of the green stalks, which were not above an inch or two above ground. They seemed to be a kind of wheat. On several patches of the fields the rain and the torrent had made considerable inroads, sweeping away the soil in some parts, and overlaying the crop in others with sand. It seemed to have been what Solomon calls “a sweeping rain that leaveth no food” (Prov, xxldii, S) ;* and shewed the necessity for these terrace-

* This sweeping flood is quite different from the ovei-flcwing Nile, The foriiu r carries away the soil, the latter deposits it. Still the latter is an inundation which for the time overiohelms the land, though it does not sweep it away. It is this that the prophet Amos refers to twice over when speaking of the flood of desolation that was to overwhelm (though not to destroy) the land of Israel, —

“It shall rise up all of it, as a flood,
It shall be driven out and inundated.
As by the river of Egypt.” — (Amos viii. 8.)
“It shall melt;
And all that dwell in it shall mourn;
It shall rise up, all of it, like a flood,
And shall be inundated,
As by the river of Egypt.” — (Amos ix. 5.)

walls which we had been examining, and which seemed to ho laid in regular intervals across the whole valley. A great deal of vegetation was apparent everywhere, save on the steep gray slopes of the hills. We returned to our tents as darkness was settling down on them, and were met by our sheikh with a grave face, so that we felt as culprits waiting for a reproof. He had missed us from the encampment, and fearing that we might lose ourselves, or meet with evil at the hands of the natives, hB had gone in search of us, but had come back imable to find us. He shook his head, looked grave and displeased, — and both with words and signs gave us to understand how wrongly we had acted in straying out alone, as the Bedaween here are not to be trusted. We were obliged to him for his care of us, but as we had seen no danger, I dare say we were not sufficiently grateful.

In the course of the afternoon we had rather an unpleasant scene. The actors in it were the sheikh and one of our chief men, — a man of two camels, whose name was Aaudheh. The former, — said to be the owner of a thousand camels, — is a young man, — soft and indolent, — given more to smoking than to useful deeds, — but good-natured and most obliging to us. The latter was a middle-aged and middle-sized man, but fierce in temper and rough in manners, — rather thiu in fiice and body, but tough and wiry in his frame work He was by no means obliging, and sometimes he was rude in words, both to us and to his fellows. Often did he complain about the overwork wliicli he said that his two camels were uudergoiDg, though they were neither overloaded nor overwrouglit, and one of them was as ill-tempered as its owner. He tried once and again to get us to stop short at three or four o’clock, threatening to go hack, and letting it be known that he did not care for dragoman or gentleman, as all that he wanted was to get his camels fed. Between this man and the young prince of the desert a discussion arose by the way. The latter was anxious to take us all the way to Hebron, the former was determined not to move an inch beyond the contract, or rather, if possible, to avoid coming up to it. The road to Medeenat (or “the city,” as they called Hebron), — the dangers of it, the troubles of it, and the like, were all discussed, but in language which left us for the present in total ignorance of the meaning of the conversation. By degrees the parties grew hot, at least the serf did; but his chief kept cool, though speaking sharply, as we could discover by his accents. The dragoman and some of the Arabs were trying to cool the rising wrath, and to soften the hard words. But in vain. The conversation grew hotter and hotter, — till at last, at some fierce word uttered by Aaudheh, and enforced by the flash of his fierce Arab eye, and the significant flourish of his disencumbered arms, the sheikh slid down from his dromedary and drew his sword. Aaudheh, who was walking by my side, was unarmed, at least he had no jambeh, or scimitar, although his baroudeh or matchlock was slung over his shoulders.

But he saw the other’s movement, and instantly seized two or three stones which, in his angry hands, would have been dangerous missiles. I seized one arm, and an Arab seized another, whilst two others did the same to the sheikh. The sheikh yielded at once; but the serf struggled to get free. Seeing, however, that the feeling was against him, he consented to be pacified at last, and threw aside his stones as the sheikh sheathed his scimitar. Peace was restored, and we proceeded. Aaudheh scowled and seemed dissatisfied, because he had been compelled “to keep the peace.” The sheikh looked troubled; and said a few words mildly” to the other, — to the effect that he was ashamed of having exhibited such a spectacle before the lioivadji (gentlemen), — and that if Aaudheh insisted on renewing the strife, he must do so in some private place. This, however, was not a satisfactory adjustment of the matter, — but we could do nothing by the way. In the evening, however, we went out, after dinner, and took our seat among the Arabs, round one of their blazing fires, — those of us who smoked, sharing their pipes, and those who did not, their coffee. We spoke with the dragoman about the occurrence of the day, and he, along with !Mu.stapha, undertook to effect the reconciliation. Accordingly we sent for Aaudheh, who was seated round the other fire, lie came, and we found that he had cooled. He was willing to “be friends,” as also was the sheikh to “be friends” with him. So he stej)ped across to the place where the latter was, and they took each other’s hands

3(^0 WABY SERAM.

at once. Having done this, they threw their arnifround each other’s neck, and kissed on both sides of the face several times. They then sat down side by side like brothers; and so the last trace of the cloud passed away. The scene was like that of Esau and Jacob embracing each other (Gen. xxxiii. 4).

Afterwards, the sheikh, Aaudheh, and some of the Arabs came into our tent, wdiere we had a good charcoal fire, as the night was cold. Mr Beddome produced his flute, and the children of the desert listened with delight to his music. It sounded most sweetly in the solitude, — only the notes of such an instrument seem almost too soft and refined for such a j)lace and such an audience.

Wady Serdm, Wednesday, Feb. 13. — Rose before seven, and walked out. Climbed a rocky hill, where I had a fine view of sunrise, and watched the light gradually stealing down the sides of the hills. To the west there appeared a l)eautiful serab, — a small wild lake, with a girdle of lovely hills, such as one meets with so often in our quiet glens at home. During breakfast, we were cheered by the lark, as he soared and sung in the flushing daylight. Walked on before our camels, and examined the terraces more fully. Near the northern extremity of the wady, we saw several inscriptions in a character very like those at Wady

Mukatteb. There was the same frequently recurring

. — ,

i„/, with goats and camels. Near these there was a cave, into which we looked, but found nothing. On both sides of the wady we saw ruins to a large extent, indicating the sites of some considerable villages or towns, and on these ruins there were inscriptions like those already noticed. The buildings in some cases had been large in size, more like villas than common houses.* They were not in the low ground, but all on the elevated parts, to be beyond the rush of the winter-torrent. Their foundations were on the rocky flats and slopes, with which the low hills that hem in the valley abound. The Lord’s parable of the wise and foolish builders occurred to me as I looked at the ruins. A house built on the sandy or lower parts of the wady would be immediately assailed by the rising stream as soon as the rains commenced. Against it “the stream would beat vehemently,” because it would be in its very channel. Of course it would fall, and the “ruin would be great,” because the rush of the torrent, undermining its very foundations, as well as beating against its walls, would sweep every stone away. A house built u^Don the rocky slopes of the wady, would be in a measure beyond the reach of the flood at first. And when the flood did arise, and the stream beat vehemently upon the house, no injury would be done, for the rocky foundation would hinder the undermining process, and thus the walls could withstand the violence of the flood. (Luke vi. 48, 49). It is curious to observe how carefully the towns of

Thoy ftro called Khurbct os-Scram, the ruins of Seram. Our Aralj.i Bcuincd to call thcru serab, but I must have boon deceived by the UkcucsH of sound.

the East have avoided the lower grounds, and always chosen the heights. In some cases this has, no douht, been simply for protection against the assault of an enemy; but in general it is because of the invasions of the floods. With us a lower site is of less consequence. We can safely build upon the very margin of the stream, because we know that it has its regular channel, by which it will pursue its wonted way and leave our homes untouched. But in these eastern regions, where the rains are not spread over the year, but come down at certain seasons like waterspouts or cataracts, there is no channel for the stream; or rather the whole breadth of the wady is the channel for the time, and no building is safe in any part of it. Nay, the soil is not safe, but is swept off by the current, and hence the terraces of these wadys are not so much intended as the means of creating an artificial soil, as of retaining the natural soil of the valley in its place, and preventing the cultivated fields from being converted into a bare rock.

It may be to these alternate scenes of drought and flood that Job alludes: —

“Behold! He withholdeth the waters, and they dry up; He sendeth them out, and they overturn the earth.” —

(Job xii. 15.)

Our Bedaween here pointed out to us El-Anjeh, at a considerable distance to the left or north-west; and spoke of JEl-Ah’d, or Abdeh, as being to the right, or east, and a day’s journey from us. I note this because others hold that these two are the same.

Having crossed a small height, we came into Wady El-Hufir or Hufir, where we found extensive ruins and ten-ace-walls as in the preceding valley, with like traces of cultivation and like spots of verdure. These stretch for miles along the wady, as if there had been an unbroken continuity of dwellings or villages in this region. How changed from the fruitfulness and populous life of other days!

“He turneth rivers into a wilderness,
And the ■water-sjprings into dry ground;
A fruitful land into barrenness,
For the wickedness of them that dwell therein.” —

(Psa. cvii. 33.)

About twelve o’clock, we came nearer El-Aujeh, and got a good view of it, though we did not go out of our way to examine it. The telescope did us sufficient service. There are two sorts of jieaks; the higher looks like a castle, Ijut turns out to be only the peculiar castellated formation of the rock. The lower is an old fortification, and both in situation and appearance was not unlike Home Castle in Berwickshire,

We now came to immense beds of lilies and hyacinths, of various kinds, (all ami broad-leaved; one species only wus in bloom, thru.sting up its lilac flower amid a profusion of leaves, upon a tall stalk, some two feet long. The plants grew thickly together and covered miles of the sand. No grass was visible between.

304! WADY SENIEH.

The road here winds along the slope of the low hill on which these lilies were growing; and here one of our camels, who had always shewn his unwillingness to be loaded, now gave proof of his willingness to be relieved of his load. He commenced prancing furiously, apparently vdih the intention of disburdening himself Nor did he fail; for in a minute barrels of water and cages of fowls came to the ground. No one, however, was injured; the casks stood the shock, nor did the fowls take any harm. The animal was soon seized and reloaded, in spite of all his objections and expostulations. We had an opportunity of seeing the awkwardness of the camel’s movements, of which Jerome speaks, and which he tells us had made “a camel’s dance” a proverb in old times.*

We next passed into a stony waste, with poor vegetation, and entered Wady Senieh. No mountains appeared in any direction, nothing but the wide waste around, in cultivation scarcely better than the desert through which we had passed. A cool breeze came from the north-east, and slight clouds throwing themselves between us and the sun, took off the scorching heat. The zenith, as usual, appeared low and the horizon wide. The day was fine.

Between one and two we came into Wady-el-Ab’dek, where doubtless stood Ehoda, mentioned by Ptolemy as a Roman city, and which either took its name from oi

* “Risimusin to proverbium, camelum vidimus saltitaatem.” — ExyisL Adv. Helvidium,

I FORMER CULTIVATikON. 305

!

gave it to the wady. It would appear that in this ‘region the Romans had established themselves m great :stieiigth, their footsteps being visible everywhere. It is not unlikely that the ““wilderness of Eeersheba” (Gen. jxxi 14) extended itself in this direction, and the cultivation, cf which we see traces, was begun in the days of Abraham and Isaac, As the region formed a sort of neutral ground or common, between Egypt and Palestme, it was a likely spot for the patriarchs to fix upon, where, undisturbed, they might obtain sufficient pasture Li tneir flocks. Though occasionally molested by the Philistines, they yet, in general, seemed to have had this semi-desert in yeaceful occupation; and through them these plains were brought under a partial tillage, which went on for ages, reaching its height under the Roman conquest, and after that, gradually sinking back into a sterility probably greater than that from which it was at first reclaimed.

The wady was sandy, but still marked by a considerable amount of vegetation. It was studded eveiywhere with the liliacious plants, which I have already noticed, as well as with crocuses and similar small bulbs. Nor were these stunted and meagre; they were tall and bushy, lus if the soil were quite congenial. It was pleasant to hear the hum of the bee, and to mark it as it went singing along through the air or .stooping among the camel -.shrubs, which were growing plentifully, and claiming this territory as the desert. We frit that thi.s was border-land. The intermixture of the lily with the tarfa and the ritt’m, seemed to imply the contention lor the mastery, between the sand of the desert and the soil of the land flowing with milk and honey.

All suddenly, at this spot our men, leaving the camels, made a rush towards a huge mound or cairn of stones on our right. Their manner was so furious that I thought there was something wrong, and that possibly they might have seen some serpent or wild beast lurking among the debris. They cast stones, they lashed the mound with sticks, they spat, they cursed, they yelled. Then, in a few minutes, they returned peaceably and pursued their way. Having asked an explanation of the scene, I was told that this was the tomb of Sheikh Amri, a cruel chief of other days, whose memory is so hateful to the Bedaween, that they cannot pass the cairn which covers his bones without this frantic explosion of abhorrence.

The frequent allusions to the oppression and doom oi the wicked man in the Book of Job are worth noticing, as shewing a similar state of things to what is exhibited still in the East. In some of these references we seem to see the desert-tent and the desert-lamp, the desertfire and the desert-cairn: —

“The light of the wicked shall be put ont, And the syark of his fire shall shine no more. Light shall he darkness in his tent, And his lamp shall he put out with him. His confidence shall be rooted out from his tent, It shall bring him to the king of terrors, It shall dwell in his tent, which is none of his.

Brimstone shall be sciitteied over his habitation.

Beneath, his root shall be dried up,

Above, his branch shall be cut off.

He shall be driven from light into darkness,

And chased out of the world.

They that come after him shall be astonished at his day,

As they that went before were affrighted.

Surely such are the dwellings of the wicked,

And this is the place of him that knew not God.” —

(Job xviii. 5-21.)

[n a subsequent chapter the speaker takes up the subject, md after asking, Where is the dwelling of the wicked? tie points forward to their day of doom, intimating his i,clief in the resun’ection of the “unjust,” as clearly as he had elsewhere intimated his belief of “the resurrection of the just”: —

“The wicked one is reserved to the day of destruction; They shall be brought forth to the day of wrath.

Yet, meanwhile, his body rests in his silent heap or cairn, such as -this which is now before us, of this wicked sheikh: —

“He shall be brought to the grave,
The watch shall be set over his cairn.
The clods of the valley shall be sweet to him,
Men will draw after him,
As those before him arc without number.” — (.Job xxi. 30-33.)

After pas.siiig some more terrace-walls we came to the dry bed of a river. The channel was nut very broad but tolerably deep, — much deeper than we had been accustomed to see in the desert. It.s b( d was beautifully pebbled, and its banks fringed with various shrubs that shook their green leaves over its white stones Had there been but the pleasant flow of water, howevei small, there would have been as picturesque a glen a; our own island could furnish. Even as it M’as, tli( scene was most attractive, forming such a contrast t( the wastes whicn we iiaa traversea; and we could almost supply its one defect by fancying

“The Durn stealing lone tnro’ the lang yellow broom.”

We now passed up a sandy eminence and came intc Wady-en-Nehiyeh at a quarter before three. On al sides were hillocks of bright yellow sand, of a softei and moister kind than any which we had hitherto seen The shrubs were finer and more plentiful, indicatinof £ moister if not a better soil. The ritt’m especially shol up in beauty, and liliacious plants were scattered profusely around. Several small flowers also were making their appearance here and there. But who had sowec them? It seemed as if the soil of the desert were fillec with innumerable seeds which need but the rain to cai! them up. We observed grass upon the more shelterec and better watered places, while large flocks of sheep with thick tails, were feeding in all directions. Wf were evidently passing out of the desert into a region which, perhaps, had once been more fully cultivated, and which was qv;ite capable of yielding something to the hand of the tiller. But though the lower parts were thus somewhat greener, the hill-slopes were as bare and stony as ever.

i INSCRIPTIONS. 309

, A little before four I left the party and ascended the ridge to the right, to examine what appeared in the distance like ruins on the long, level top, which was perhaps about three hundred feet in height, and to which there was a gradual slope over rough, loose stones, which covered the whole slope. Here I observed such letters or figures as the followinsr: —

D ly U ill ‘^ 0 ■+ -h

There were, perhaps, some fifteen inscriptions in all of the above kind. They bore very considerable resemblance to the Mukatteb ones, though they were not exactly the same. They looked sharper and more recent. I walked along this flat ridge for about a mile, and came upon several circular mounds which had the appearance of ruins. One of these was of considerable size. The inscriptions were on flat pieces of horizontal rock, not on the side of any eminence. The ridge was above Wady-en-Nehiyeh.

Descending, I rejoined the party, of whom I had not allowed myself to lose slight; and, as we moved northwards, we came upon some ploughed fields to the left, where there was a man with an axe cleaving the baked soil, — “breaking up his fallow-ground,” or rather cutting up the ground when brought by rain and sun into that skite describud in the Buok of Job: —

‘’When the dust growcth into hiirilncss,

AdJ the clods cleave fast together.” — (Job xxxviii. 38.)

The birds were singing blythely and hopping from shrub to shrub. About five o’clock we passed into Wady-er-Ruhaiheh, and encamped. The evening was fine, and the sky without a cloud, yet the heat was moderate. The air seemed to breathe of spring. All was freshness and balm. I walked out, and took m seat upon a sandy hillock, with the ritt’m and shia pressed down under me for my carpet, till the darkness came down.

We have traversed this day a region of much beauty. We are still indeed moving through border-land, for fruitfulness and barrenness are fighting hard for victory over each other. There is as yet more of the latter than the former, but the progress is visible. We have got real verdure at last, though it is but scanty. We miss the unbroken plains of grassy pasture, for which no mere patches of green can make up. AVe miss the green knolls and the glad river-sides of the north. We miss, too, the daisy and the primrose. But, notwithstanding, the scene has been brighter to-day than any through which we have come for many weeks, and we feel as if we were really “coming up out of the wilderness” by a gradual but cheering ascent of road, which is, mile after mile, throwing off the lean and scorched nakedness of the desert, and putting on the rich clothing of Syria’s happier soiL