_Farewell to Damascus.—Ain Fijeh.—Quarrelsome Arabs.—Onward
to Baalbek.—A Friendly Arab Family.—On the Mountains of
Lebanon.—Baalbek.—Rejected Stone.—From Baalbek to Beyrut.—My Horse
John.—Homeward Bound._
Adieu was said to Damascus with its mosques, bazaars, orchards and
winding streams. We left it never expecting to look again upon the city
which the natives call “paradise on earth.”
The day was delightful, and the scenery along the greater part of the way
was quite different from that which we had been accustomed to seeing. The
grass was beautifully green, and fruit trees were in splendid condition.
The swift-flowing river was, in a measure, instrumental in clothing the
trees with foliage and giving the grass its beautiful verdure; but behind
all the hand of the Lord was seen.
Noontime came, and we rested not far from a small village called Ain
Fijeh, very close to a fountain with the same name. Many years ago a
temple stood at that place and people went there to worship. Now it is in
ruins, but even yet many Mohammedans go there. While we stood by looking
at them, they bowed down on their faces, saying aloud their studied
prayers. A great body of water gushed out of a cave near by. It went
dashing and splashing along a few yards, then joined a small branch,
when the two made one river.
Did you ever watch a great volume of water as it dashed over everything
which happened in its way? If you did, then you can imagine how much
interested we grown up men and women were at the sight before us. That
was a charming spot for travelers to tarry for the noonday rest, and yet
the very name of Ain Fijeh brings thoughts exceedingly unpleasant.
Our luncheon was eaten in a field of beautiful green,—a cornfield. The
dragoman hired a corner of it from the owner expressly for our use. It
seemed hardly right to use a grain field in that way, but there was no
other place for so large a party, and since arrangements had been made
we settled down to enjoy the rest which was needed. The villagers seemed
very much interested in us, more so than common, and during the entire
meal watched us very closely. There was a wonderful chattering among
them, and there seemed decided indications of displeasure; but since we
were unable to understand their language we were entirely ignorant as to
what irritated them.
The meal was eaten with a relish, notwithstanding the scowling faces
which were looking on. The usual length of time was taken for rest; the
dragoman awakened from his nap and gave the order to start. Soon after
each person went where the horses were waiting, which place was at the
foot of a very steep hill, where the ladies found rocks large enough to
mount the horses from. Since the dragoman was not needed he remained
back—as we supposed—to pay for the use of the field. After having
arranged ourselves ready for the onward march, we waited for our guide to
come and lead us on through the unknown country. Instead of going with
us, as had been his custom, he called in loud tones, “Ride on and follow
the road.” There were sixteen of us now, and one just as ignorant as the
other of the language and country. We did not fancy starting out alone,
but the order was given and we obeyed, riding fast or slow just as it
suited us.
A change in the road seemed confusing, and we all decided to go no
farther without a guide. The summit of the hill was reached by that time,
and you can scarcely imagine our surprise, on looking back, to see the
dragoman completely surrounded by the villagers. He was unable to turn
from right to left. Truly, like sheep without a shepherd were we.
Now, what was to be done,—stand still and wait? Yes, it was all we were
able to do, for we knew not where to go. By this time we noticed the
villagers were wild with excitement. Men and women ran up the hill with
clubs and pickaxes raised in the air; children came running too, each
armed with stones. Every one of them seemed determined to hurt us, if
possible. Their voices were pitched high, and such a furious set of
people I had never seen before. We were a scared set of tourists. To add
to our dismay, stones were hurled in our midst. Many of them hit the poor
horses, my own faithful animal being among the number. I shall never
forget how suddenly he turned and what a narrow escape I had from going
headlong over the side of the hill. I begged to be taken from my horse,
but was not allowed to be upon my feet for fear of being in greater
danger.
That was a very distressing time for us, boys and girls, for we did not
expect to escape without injury. The dear Lord was good, for his watchful
eye was over us and every one quit the place unharmed. My nervous system
received a severe shock, which it has taken all of these years to recover
from. The Arabs did not release the dragoman until he paid them a large
sum of money, and at the end of our journey each one of the party was
requested to pay a certain sum of money extra to help pay for the release
of our guide.
Ain Fijeh had lost all attractions for us, and as soon as possible we
rode away, leaving its disagreeable inhabitants behind, hoping never to
be in such an unpleasant situation again. It was the first day of April.
Had we been in America, we would have thought the people were having a
little fun at our expense; but not so there, for money was what they
desired, and money they received before we were allowed to go free.
As we proceeded on our way to camp great ledges of rocks were passed
over. Sometimes we rode through green fields, when our mind was carried
back to the lunching place and the yelling villagers. My memory of the
country through which we passed is not vivid, for my mind and feelings
then were not in trim to enjoy either the country or a ride through it.
The camping place for that night is spoken of as being fine, but I cannot
testify as to its beauty. One thing I am sure of,—that our rest during
that night was much disturbed by thoughts of the day’s experience.
We left camp early next morning, and to our sorrow the rain came down in
torrents. Oh, how unpleasant it was! We had no desire to visit the tomb
of Abel, which we passed. We rode on, preferring to visit a place of
shelter and stay there while the rain continued to fall. It was useless,
however, to think of that pleasure; so we made the best of the situation,
feeling sure that only a few more days of hard riding and exposure were
in store for us, when our journey through the strange land would be ended.
Bad weather never seemed to bring changes in our programme of travel, so
we bravely weathered the rain which had continued to fall, and onward
we rode toward Baalbek. The air had become uncomfortably chilly, and a
great desire for a sheltered place was created within us. It seemed to
be the order of our trip to have unpleasant things happening, and for
that particular day an accident was recorded; not a serious one, yet an
accident.
We were riding by a swiftly flowing mountain river, when the horse which
an English lady was riding made a misstep and both of them went down into
the water. The animal was unable to help himself and it was therefore
necessary for some of the men to render assistance. In good time both
horse and rider reached land without injury.
Wet clothing was the result of that accident, and now for certain a
good, warm fire was needed. Many of us could sympathize with the lady,
for we were in the same condition, although our clothing became wet
from the rain and hers from the river; therefore we knew, to our sorrow,
how uncomfortable she was. Not any of the company had much to say while
riding along, but we kept up a wonderful thinking.
Our first stopping place after the accident was in a small village where
the people were unusually friendly. We were invited into their homes and
we gladly accepted the kind invitation. Dripping wet we rode through the
little entrance-gate into the court, and while the rain was pouring down
upon us we dismounted, only too thankful to be under roof, where, for a
short season at least, the rain would cease to beat upon us. Our joy was
great when a fire was started in the fireplace in one corner of a room.
I can see that room yet—in my mind’s eye—cheerless and unattractive, not
a window was to be seen, and in the wall were hollow places where the
family slept at night. But the shelter and the fire we wanted, and that
we had, caring but little for the dirt and the cheerless home.
The ladies seemed to think the room was all their own, for immediately
they took possession of it, each one getting as close to the fire as
possible, all intent on drying their soaking wet garments. The native
women were very much interested in our clothing, examining each piece
with a great deal of pleasure. They had a strong desire to converse with
us, but there was entirely too much difference in our language, for not
one of us could speak Arabic. They jabbered away at us, and we stood
smiling like a lot of schoolgirls.
One old woman couldn’t stand it to be near and not converse, so she went
after the dragoman, brought him in and used him as an interpreter. The
conversation was laughable, but not of long duration, for it was time to
leave there and ride on.
The men sat in a room adjoining ours, and I believe it was much dirtier;
but we were quite well used to filth by that time, so it failed to be a
rarity.
Other travelers were resting in the same house, and in the court could be
seen horses, donkeys and camels. It was quite amusing to watch a clumsy
camel get through the small entrance gate to the court. It was first
compelled to get down upon its knees to have the burden removed, after
which some manœuvering was necessary to get the animal inside, for the
large hump was very much in the way. The stupid animal entered by and by,
and we saw it no more, for by that time we rode away from the house of
the kind Arab people.
We had traveled twenty-five miles during the day, wet to the skin and
chilled to the bone. Late in the evening we reached camp, with a longing
desire for a good, warm fire. Money could not purchase such a luxury
there, so we were compelled to be reconciled to the surroundings.
We seemed to be unfortunate that night, for during the day some of the
pack-mules had fallen into the water; so the tents and bedding were wet
through and through. Our tent and some bedclothes were among the wet
ones, and I’ll tell you, children, our comfort for that night did not
seem very flattering. It was very hard work to have cheerful faces, and
it was a great deal harder to keep from wishing we were at home, where
there was no end of comfort. We crept into our little beds, shivering,
hoping to be warm at least by morning.
All night long the rain came down fast, and about midnight the side of
our tent blew in, making the situation more unpleasant. We called the
dragoman, telling him of our perplexing condition, and he in turn called
up the poor, shivering Arab servants, who pounded the tent pins down more
tightly; after which quiet reigned and an effort was made to sleep. We
were on the Mountains of Lebanon and the air was cold, so we expected to
shiver as did the Arab men.
The next morning early we started for Baalbek, notwithstanding the rain
storm which was still in progress. We mounted our horses in a tent that
morning. The horses seemed wonderfully large standing there waiting for
the riders. The saddles were dripping wet, and of course the poor animals
were in like condition. That morning the dragoman’s counts and my leap
did not come out even, for when he said, “Now ready,” I had not reached
the back of my faithful friend. But with patience on the part of the
guide, and quite an effort on my part, the sitting place was gained and
we rode on out in the rain.
As we journeyed along snow commenced falling, and we wondered what next.
Such a discouraged set of tourists you never saw, I know. We were ill
prepared for winter weather, and the Australian lady who had never seen
snow was getting all she desired of it. Her wraps were quite thin, and,
like myself, she shivered as we went along.
My hands were not as well protected as they might have been had we
thought of snow. As it was I wore a thin pair of knit mittens which were
wet during the entire ride of sixteen miles.
By this time you have learned that people who go long journeys become
tired and are liable to have accidents happen them too. It is plain to be
seen that one must be prepared for anything, and if possible be cheerful
under all circumstances.
The sun did not shine all of the time, and we knew to our sorrow what
it meant to travel when rain was pouring down upon us. On the way to
Baalbek our ride was as unpleasant as could well be imagined. Snow and
rain were our portion many miles. The little flakes fell thick and
fast. Occasionally they found their way to our neck, where they melted,
leaving the water to trickle down our back, making us still more chilly
and uncomfortable. It would weary you if I were to make any further
attempt to tell you of that very unpleasant ride. There was genuine
pleasure however in looking forward to the time when the village should
be gained and we be under the shelter of a roof; and as we rode on and
on it was a satisfaction to know every mile took us nearer and nearer
the resting place. At last the columns of the “Great Temple” were seen
in the distance. Immediately we took fresh courage and urged our horses
to greater speed. By and by the village was gained, and to our delight
the dragoman drew rein and we all dismounted in front of a rough looking
building, bearing the name of “Hotel,” which was to be our home while in
the village of ruined temples. Everything around it seemed gloomy and
cheerless; but we wasted no time in looking at the surroundings, for we
were anxious to go where wet clothing could be removed.
Husband found, to his sorrow, that boots were very good to hold water,
for on placing his feet upon the ground the water overflowed and rushed
out of the top of them; so you may see what a distressed condition he was
in.
When a room was assigned us we were surprised to see it so large and with
such a little bit of furniture in it. The floor was stone and carpetless;
two windows were in the room, but they were curtainless, and there was
no stove in which to make fire. We needed dry clothing badly, but the
baggage had not been brought up, for it was far back on the mountain. Now
what was to be done? Well, each person settled that question for himself.
Some concluded to go to bed and stay there until the baggage was brought
them. We called for a fire; a foolish thing to do when there was no
stove, you may think; but it came to us all right in two iron pans with
coals red hot. Immediately after, each piece of clothing was removed, the
water wrung out, and then it was held piece by piece over the coals to
dry. The task was not an easy one, I assure you, and both of us were kept
busy for a while. We were quite comfortable long before our baggage came,
for the men were four hours behind time.
The sun was not hid under a cloud all of that day, for during the
afternoon it shone beautifully, which brought joy to our hearts. We did
not remain indoors long, for all were anxious to see the great ruins of
Baalbek, which at one time were temples erected for the worship of Baal.
They have been the wonder of all ages, and nowhere in the world can more
extensive ruins be seen. People travel thousands of miles to see them.
The largest cut stones in the world are to be seen in these temples, and
it is a great mystery to know how they were placed there. A quarry from
which they were taken is not very far from the village, and one large
stone is still there, having never been removed by the workmen. The stone
chips lie about and one can scarcely realize the fact that many, many
years have gone by since the chisel and hammer have been used upon it.
I shall not begin to describe the ruined temples, for it might not
interest the greater number of the little readers, and to tell you
about the finely chiseled marble columns would occupy too much
space. The population of Baalbek was not very large, and there was
nothing attractive about the dwelling houses, for they were free from
ornamentation, low, and covered with flat straw roofs. After a hard rain
men go on the housetop with large wooden rollers to press out the water.
If it were allowed to remain in the straw long it would drip down into
the living rooms and be unpleasant for the family.
As a result of the exposure of our trip from Damascus to Baalbek, I was
taken sick with a hard chill and high fever; but with the free use of
medicines the fever was broken and I was enabled to travel on with the
rest of the party. After the ruins of the village were seen there were no
further attractions for tourists. So one bright beautiful morning we left
with everybody in a cheerful mood and very anxious to go on to the next
place, which would end our horseback riding.
We went direct from Baalbek to Beyrut, camping by the way and taking
two days for the journey. All of the party were in good humor and quite
cheerful, as I said before, and even the horses traveled better; so the
good feeling seemed general.
We camped on the mountains and had pure fresh air to breathe. Luncheon
was eaten in a stone khan, and when I look back to that time I can see
sixteen weary travelers sitting on benches against the wall, listening
to the dragoman talk, telling us how much money was due him. We knew he
had no right to demand it, yet for the sake of peace the money was handed
over to him. After a short rest we all moved onward toward a large town
by the name of Zableh. The road was rocky and steep, and the horses’ feet
clattered as they walked up the street, which seemed more like a stairway.
The people seemed friendly, which at first surprised us; but we found
later on that a goodly number of the inhabitants were Christians.
Missionaries were settled in that town, and it was plain to be seen
that where the Bible is taught a kindlier feeling toward mankind is
manifested. Several years ago the town suffered badly from the Druses, a
set of people who live in the Mountains of Lebanon; they set fire to it
and burned it down. Since then the town has been rebuilt and seems in a
prosperous condition.
Our last day’s ride was delightful, and the roads were now good enough
for any one. We passed from the stormy weather of winter into summer
and beautiful sunshine, and how pleasant it seemed! The green grass,
the fruit trees, many of which had fruit upon them, all helped us to
forget the snowstorm of Lebanon and the cheerless country which had been
traveled over only a few days before.
As we neared the city of Beyrut every turn in the road gave us a better
glimpse of the place for which we were aiming. The pleasant little
country residences by the way received but little notice. We were bound
for the place where letters from dear ones at home were awaiting us. The
city was not so far away now, and before we were aware of it our horses
went galloping down the streets,—there at last! Yes, sure enough, for the
horses had stopped and we found ourselves in front of the hotel, and the
twenty-one days of riding ended.
I was greatly attached to my horse, which you will remember I had named
John, and a feeling of sadness filled my heart when the servant led him
away. I looked after the animal and thought how faithfully he had carried
me upon his back, and in the twenty-one days’ ride had not shown a sign
of being tricky. Cautiously he had picked his way over the most dangerous
places, and when rivers were to be forded he walked into the water and
bore me safe to the opposite side. Every step he took seemed to tell me
he knew I was timid and that he must therefore be very careful. I looked
after him, and with a silent good-bye stepped into the hotel and to my
room.
Beyrut is beautifully situated by the Mediterranean Sea, with its streets
sloping down, down to the beach, where we loved to stand and watch the
water roll and dash.
In the city are missions where the people are taught the way to God, and
young girls are taught to sing the songs of Zion.
The lady who had broken her limb was pleasantly situated at the hotel,
and I am sure you never saw a person more pleased to meet friends than
was Miss W. to see us. She had been fortunate in procuring the services
of a good physician who lived in Beyrut. He had placed her limb in a
plaster Paris case and she was getting along as well as might be expected.
Our hotel was right on the beach, and when sitting on the upper porch one
could see beyond the waters of the bay far out on the “great sea.” It was
quite pleasant to sit there and watch the ships in the distance as they
glided over the water. I remarked, “How very smooth and quiet the sea is
to-day. Surely a pleasant time to board the ship is in store for us.” A
missionary lady replied, “Possibly by two o’clock the sea will be very
wild.” And I thought it could hardly be possible, for sailing time was
near at hand.
Having nothing else to do I decided to watch the sea. Away off in the
distance a breaker rolled up; by and by a few more were seen; and then
I thought the lady knew what she was talking about, for one by one the
white-capped waves broke upon the shore before me, and the ship, which
was anchored perhaps a mile out, was made to move about uneasily. When
the hour of departure drew near seventeen people besides the boatmen took
seats in two rowboats. The men rowed toward the ship with a will, while
the water dashed about the little boats ladened with precious freight.
The ship was gained in safety; shortly after the whistle blew, and we
were on our way home. Many times we had longed for the day when our faces
would be turned in the direction of home, and now a silent prayer for
safety was breathed.
The sea voyage was rather a pleasant one, and in due time we reached
Smyrna, where many of our traveling companions took ship for
Constantinople and the rest of us went on to Trieste.
The first day of May we took passage on the steamship Werra, and for six
days she rolled and pitched because of a terrible storm on the Atlantic.
Of course I was seasick, and for three days ate not a mouthful of food.
When the storm subsided my desire for food returned, and from that on
I was able to go on deck. Eleven days were spent at sea, and not one
day was it quiet. When we landed at New York our hearts were full of
gratitude to the Lord for his tender, watchful care over us; for we were
conscious of his presence all the way and knew he would bring us home
safely.
Now, dear children, the task which was undertaken so reluctantly is
ended. Yet I cannot refrain from saying the work grew to be a pleasure
to me; and now it is given to you with the thought and hope that some
little word may have been written which will lead you to seek a better
life. Some one has said, “It is the greatest pleasure of living, to win
souls to Christ.” And should I be the instrument by which one boy or girl
is brought to Christ, my labor has not been in vain. And now may the kind
Heavenly Father bless you and keep your tender feet from treading the
paths of sin and wickedness.
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