The banks and thickets of the Jordan--Bathing-place--The Greek
convent--A night of adventures in the plains of Jericho--The
modern village--Ancient fertility--Possible restoration--Elisha’s
fountain--_Wady Kelt_--The Mountain of Temptation--The path to Zion.
THE Jordan, in the lower reaches, is shaded by overhanging willows, and
the path along the bank is lined with tall oleanders. In the brushwood,
which grows thickly over the little peninsulas formed by the circlings
of the river, we were assured that the _nimr_ (small leopard) found a
lurking-place; and, further, that he and his grim neighbour, the hyena,
haunted the bushy hollows between the sand-dunes which stretch away
towards the sea.
We shouldered our guns, and, armed with ball cartridge, set out to
beat the brushwood in the hope of starting game of this class. Perhaps
it was as well for ourselves that we were disappointed; but a gun in
a man’s hand adds marvellously to his powers of endurance in walking,
so we were able to explore the shady banks of the river, and attain a
fuller knowledge of its windings. The bridge was photographed with a
group in front as a souvenir of our visit; then, sending the muleteers
straight to Jericho with tents and baggage, we prepared to ride
towards the sea, with the intention of returning to Jericho for the
night. Our road wound among the sand-dunes for some distance. Here
we were charged to keep close together. The advice was necessary.
Had one lingered behind, and by any mischance lost the way, he might
have wandered long enough in the labyrinth formed by these little
sand-hills, which resemble each other so closely as to be distinguished
only by the trained eye. They are the haunts of robbers too, who, in
the multitudinous winding hollows, may easily escape pursuit.
We did not go so far down as the fords and famous bathing-place; but
on a subsequent occasion I saw something of the extraordinary scenes
enacted there--a great company of Russian pilgrims, men, women, and
children, plunging promiscuously into the sacred river. Most wore a
thin linen garment as they went down into the water. This is afterwards
carefully preserved, and is worn again only as a shroud. Certain men
standing in the stream saw that each one went at least three times over
the head.
[Illustration: FORDS OF JORDAN. PILGRIMS BATHING]
Leaving the labyrinth, we emerged on a wide sterile plain, over which
grew only a few stunted desert bushes. Here and there we could see the
shimmer of the sunlight on a thin crust of salt. The Greek convent,
standing in the midst of the waste, served as a landmark, and thither
we directed our course, leaving the winding road. This cross-country
riding in these parts has its dangers. The horses are apt to sink
through the soft surface, into holes burrowed by the rodents; and
deep ruts, worn by winter torrents, are often difficult to pass. At
length we stood before the gate of the convent, and the hospitable
monks regaled us with refreshing draughts of pure, cool well-water.
It seemed only a short distance farther to the sea; but some of our
company were growing fatigued, and, at our rate of riding, it would
take almost till sunset to reach our camp by the “City of Palms”;
so, reluctantly, we turned our horses’ heads northward, comforting
ourselves with the hope that in a more convenient season we should
stand on the shores of the Dead Sea and plunge in its sullen waters.
On arriving, we found the _mukaries_ busy with the tents, which soon
were ready for our reception. But we were disturbed somewhat to hear
that one of our attendants was missing. He ought to have come with us
toward the sea; but when we found he had not come, we concluded that he
had accompanied the muleteers to Jericho. Now, however, he was nowhere
to be found, and the _mukaries_ assured us he had started immediately
behind us. The evil reputation of the district made us rather anxious;
but the reckless character of the man, and his habit of starting off
on the wildest projects without a moment’s warning, led us to believe
that _Saʿid_ would turn up again, as he had often done before. We set
up lights, however, on the most conspicuous points, when darkness
fell, so as to guide him, if possible, over the plain. As the night
advanced, and we still had no news of him, our anxiety increased, our
main hope being that, as he followed us, he had arrived late at the
convent and taken shelter for the night, or that haply he had found
his way back to the bridge. Even with fifty men it would have been
futile to search that wilderness in the dark. A hunt after a number of
wild swine that came to the neighbourhood of the camp served only as
a temporary diversion from the graver subject occupying our thoughts.
The “garrison” of the town consisted of one soldier, whose services we
secured without much difficulty. He was despatched, with the breaking
light, to go towards Jordan bridge, and southwards to the convent,
while some of our party prepared to scour the plain, the rest getting
in order for the ascent to Jerusalem.
All were very early astir. Just before mounting, the plain was swept
with the telescope, and in the distance a coming horseman was descried,
who seemed to resemble the lost man. His appearance caused no little
excitement in camp; for, on a nearer view, there was no doubt of his
identity. Both man and horse were utterly wearied, and _Saʿid’s_
garments were covered with blood. The tale he told of his experiences
was terrible enough. On our departure, he lingered a moment to see the
muleteers ready and on the road; then, as he thought, he followed us,
but missing the way, he pushed straight southward, guided in part by
the river, arriving on the Dead Sea shore just as the sun set. As he
had ridden rapidly, he thought he might have passed us on the way; but,
after waiting and careful search along the lonely beach, he despaired
of finding us. He turned away in the twilight, hoping by instinct to
hit upon some way leading to Jericho. Soon the night was filled with
the horrid howlings of the jackals, all over that weary waste, and
here and there the shrill laugh of the hyena fell on his ear. Pushing
forward, he was speedily entangled among the sand-dunes. Climbing one
after another, he sought to hit upon some landmark to guide him; but
ever, on descending, his bearings were lost, and he wandered almost
hopelessly. As the night closed in, he could see shadowy forms moving
around, and the howlings came nearer and nearer. Suddenly, in the
track before him, he saw a hyena glaring upon him. The natives believe
that the hyena will not attack a man save when famishing or grievously
provoked. But in such moments one does not reflect much on these things.
Fortunately, _Saʿid_ had my gun and ball cartridge with him. With
nerves steadied by something like despair, he aimed at the brute’s
head, and, the ball crashing through the brain, he rolled over with a
groan. A momentary silence followed the report, and then the dismal
noises broke out again. Riding onward he saw, and not a moment too
soon, a leopard crouching for a spring. Aiming swiftly, he fired, and
the ball took effect in the leopard’s neck; but, withal, the brute was
able to spring, and almost to reach his mark. “Then,” said _Saʿid_,
his lip quivering and an unaccustomed tear trembling in his eye--“then
I must have had strength given me from heaven; for, as the brute
sprang, I reached forward, caught him by the neck, and hurled him back
violently to the ground, where he lay stunned, and a second ball
finished him.” He attempted to carry the leopard on the pommel of his
saddle, and this accounted for the blood-stains on his garments. But
weariness and anxiety soon overcame his purpose, and the leopard was
left to decay among its native wilds.
Finally, baffled by the darkness and the intricacies of the
labyrinthine windings, he climbed a little knoll, and tying the horse’s
halter to his arm, stretched himself on the ground to sleep; but ever
and anon, as the denizens of the desert drew near, the trembling
creature tugged at the halter to awaken his master, and seemed to long
for waking fellowship. At last he was overcome with sleep, and was only
aroused when the horse had apparently come close up and whinnied in his
ear. Then, rising bolt upright, it seemed to him as if the gloomy waste
were all alive with moving shades, and vocal with dismal howlings. How
he came out of that pandemonium he never could say; but ere long the
dawn stole into the sky, and the wild beasts crept away into their
dens. He found a poor shepherd, walking out with his flocks, who,
seeing his forlorn condition, sustained the best traditions of desert
hospitality by offering what he had for his day’s food to the weary
traveller. Then he was able to make out the direction of Jericho, and,
before the morning was well born, he was again with his companions,
uttering perhaps the most sincere _hamdulillahs_ of his life. After
hearing this tale from the lips of that worn-out man, on the borders of
the desert plain of Jericho, one could better realise what it meant
for the Son of Man when, driven of the Spirit into the neighbouring
wilderness, through the long nights He was “with the wild beasts.”
[Illustration: JERICHO. ELISHA’S FOUNTAIN]
Poor _Saʿid_ has now “joined the majority.” He escaped the beasts of
the Dead Sea plains to fall a victim to a more subtle and deadly foe.
While at work on the new railway near the _Hummeh_, the hot springs in
_Wady Yarmuk_, he and many others were mortally stricken with typhoid.
A heavy toll in human lives these valleys have exacted on the passage
of that road of iron. _Saʿid_ was a typical light-hearted Syrian, prone
to err, who yet through years of service proved faithful according to
his light, with a larger infusion of courage in him than is common
among his countrymen. In steadfast loyalty at his master’s side,
neither fatigue nor peril daunted him.
A burden was lifted from all our minds, and, moving forward that
morning, even higher spirits than usual prevailed. We rode into the
village, and stopped a little at the hotel, where souvenirs of the
Dead Sea plain, staffs made from the oaks of Bashan, _Bedawy_ clubs,
and such-like articles, are exposed for sale to travellers. Then we
rode along lanes bounded by hedges of prickly pear and thorns towards
the spring of Elisha, called now _ʿAin es-Sultan_--“Fountain of the
Sultan,” where man and beast drank from the cool stream and were
refreshed.
The modern _Erîha_ is a miserable representative of the famous cities
that rose one after another in the neighbourhood of this copious
spring. The land immediately around is a marvel of fertility, bearing,
when under cultivation, with tropical luxuriance. Near by the spring
stood the ancient city which was attacked and overthrown by the
Israelites--the first stronghold gained on this side of the Jordan.
Near the same spot rose the city of Heil, who dared the curse and
endured it--the curse pronounced by Joshua--in order to restore the
crown of splendour which his ancestors had crushed so ruthlessly.
This latter was the city known to Elijah and Elisha, not yet ancient
in their time, for the inhabitants of which the waters of this lovely
spring were miraculously healed. One of the “schools of the prophets”
existed here; and here Elijah had his last interview with the youth,
the hope of Israel, ere he went forth to yonder lonely tracts eastward,
to be parted from the faithful Elisha by the chariot of fire, and
caught away to heaven in the whirlwind. The fertility of the plains of
Jericho was almost proverbial in later days, when its rich revenues
were farmed by Herod from Cleopatra.
Then the magnificent balsam gardens and the groves of stately palms
lent added beauty to a scene in the midst of which the luxury-loving
Herod had his winter quarters. In the days of our Saviour the sycamore
tree was not wanting, as we learn from the story of Zaccheus. The
remains of old sugar-mills testify to the ancient culture of the
sugar-cane; and the ruins of ancient aqueducts, dating from high
antiquity, which brought the contributions of distant springs to
the grounds around the city, show with what care the paradise of
Jericho was watered. The balsam has now utterly disappeared; and the
stranger, coming unprepared upon the scene, might well-exclaim, “How
could Jericho ever be called ‘the city of palm trees’?” But great
fruitful vines may yet be seen, in the badly-kept gardens, yielding
with prodigality in spite of indifferent husbandry; and heavily-laden
bananas, bending over the hedges, offer of their sweetness to the hand
of the passer-by. The modern village boasts a hotel, a Greek hospice
for the accommodation of Russian pilgrims, and the ruins of an old
castle, which frown out upon the wilderness to eastward. Those who are
willing to be pleasantly deceived by monkish tradition may also have
the house of Zaccheus pointed out to them. There are some three hundred
inhabitants in the village, creatures of a miserable physique, and with
a most undesirable reputation for laziness and thievishness.
That the plains of Jericho might be once again what they were of old--a
very garden of delights, wherein is enough and to spare for all--needs
hardly to be said. Were proof required, it would be found in the
surroundings of Elisha’s fountain. Wherever the waters of the fountain
come, the desert sands are transformed into fruitful fields, and all
its banks are clothed with emerald. No small supply of water would
serve to waken life over all the plains; but is not the vast volume
of the Jordan only waiting to be caught in the higher reaches, and
taught to run in fertilising streams all over the broad lands? For long
generations it has flowed idly past, only a few yards on either side
of the rushing flood tasting its refreshing power. What untold wealth
is rolling there, in these rich brown waves! What hand shall arrest
the flow, and turn its powers to noblest uses, so that all the valley
may be filled with the music of rustling grain and with the beauty of
ripening fruit?--that the wilderness may rejoice and blossom as the
rose. Ere this is possible, the reins of government must be held by
stronger and more righteous hands, the husbandman must be secured in
the enjoyment of the fruit of his toil. But surely now the appointed
season for favour cannot be long delayed. Happy the eyes that shall
behold the awaking of all the land to fresh life after its death-like
slumber! In those sweet days of reviving, no fairer scenes will greet
the eye than these broad stretches, proudly in the midst of which will
rise once more the beautiful palm-girt city.
[Illustration: MOUTH OF WADY KELT]
We could have lingered long beside that delightful spring, pouring its
sparkling waters forth in blessing over the plain; but the sun rose
higher in the heavens, and we had a hard ascent before us. We rode
along the base of the overhanging hills, crossed the mouth of _Wady
Kelt_, and struck the carriage road leading from Jericho to Jerusalem.
Deep, dark, and forbidding is the great cleft in the hills which, since
the days of the learned and acute Robinson, has been by many identified
with the brook Cherith, where Elijah hid from Jezebel’s wrath, and was
miraculously supplied with food. The probabilities are, however, that
the old Gileadite turned not southward, but eastward. In the ravines
of his own native highlands there must have been many retired spots
known to him in youth, where he might foil the most earnest search
by strangers. The great grim mountain _Karantal_, whether the scene
of Christ’s Temptation or not, has yet a Christian history of deep
interest. The caverns in his frowning sides have been the haunts of
Christian hermits from early days. Even yet, at times, a devotee takes
refuge there from the vain world. On Mount Tabor, at a Feast of the
Transfiguration, I met an Austrian monk who told me he had spent six
years in solitary meditation and prayer in a cave in the Jordan Valley.
Now, as we ascend the winding path along the steep mountain sides,
we pause for one last look over the plain and the sea and the dark
heights beyond, whence came Israel’s hosts of old to possess the land.
There, beneath us, where the plain is lost in green, stood the ancient
Jericho, where the worshippers from the east of Jordan were wont to
assemble ere going up in company to the great feasts. Doubtless these
very hills have echoed to the voice of psalms, as the pilgrims marched
up the steep ascents. So was it our privilege to turn our faces towards
Zion, planting our feet in their footsteps--the footsteps of the tribes
of God who went up thither. Very heartily could we wake the echoes
again with their old song, “Pray for the peace of Jerusalem,” as we
pressed upward to realise a long-cherished dream in the vision of the
Holy City.
Thus may we all press up the steeps of life, Zion’s love in our hearts,
her songs upon our lips, until with joy the pilgrims’ eyes behold, amid
the light and splendour of the Eternal City, the face of the great King!
THE END
_Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, _Edinburgh_.
FOOTNOTE:
[1] For inscriptions copied here and in other places on a later
journey, see _Palestine Exploration Fund Quarterly_ for 1895.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.