In a Syrian Saddle

by A. Goodrich-Freer

There was so much to hear of interest that we were almost thankful to the rain for keeping us indoors. These solitary priests have adapted themselves to their environment in a manner which, were it more customary among religious teachers, would be of infinite value not only to religion but to science. One cannot think without regret of the wealth of information lost to the archæologist, anthropologist, philologist by the neglect of those who might secure unrivalled opportunities of intercourse with the people, but many of whom after years in this country, leave it as ignorant as when they came, of all that lies beneath the surface. Our friends here, though able to converse in, at least, three or four European languages, use Arabic as their vernacular, speaking it even between themselves, the better to enter into the life of the people; they are good horsemen and good shots, two qualifications absolutely necessary for friendship with the Bedu.[6] They possess, in addition to the animals necessary to the hospice, a beautiful Arab mare, the gift of one of the Madaba flock, and a very fine specimen of the Arab deerhound, not unlike an Irish deerhound in appearance, but swift as the gazelle which it hunts, and so exquisitely light of limb, without the hideous attenuation of the English greyhound, that such a dog is almost invariably known as "Rischân" (feather), feminine, "Rischi." Father Biever was originally an officer in the German army; hence, probably, his power of organisation. He has also a natural capacity for architecture, as is testified by the very large and handsome Convent of St Pierre, perhaps the most effective modern building in Jerusalem, of which he was the architect and practical builder, in addition, it is said, to his having collected a part of the cost in America, where he had some experience of life among the cowboys. He made a very large collection of the flowers of the country, which, unfortunately, was lost with the vessel in which it was sent to Europe. It is to be earnestly hoped that his unique collection of the folklore of the Bedu and fellahin may be given to literature.

We were fortunate in happening to be present at an interesting little social ceremony. Our visit fell on Epiphany, and all the neighbours, Bedu and Druse, came in the evening to celebrate the visit of the Three Kings. The long hall was simply furnished with a table, moved aside for the occasion, and a divan running round the walls. It was brightly lighted, and the household servants presided over the refreshments, which consisted of tea and some confectionery, specially made for the occasion, of very rich and sweet pastry, some of it in the form of puffs containing honey, and the rest in narrow rolls, which are known as "the fingers of Mary."

The company arrived all together, men and boys (the women, of course, being left at home), all dressed alike in the long robe, shawl, girdle, white keffeeye, kept in place on the head by a double rope of goats' hair, and camels' hair mantle, which many removed. Some came barefoot, others removed their shoes on entering, and all sat cross-legged on the divan. The household servants were Arab peasants (fellahin), and regarded by the others as of a lower class—tillers, rather than owners, of the soil. They were differentiated by wearing turbans, made of large, coloured handkerchiefs twisted round the red tarbush, which is of different shape and manufacture from those worn in the towns. Two Arab women and the Lady were the sole representatives of their sex. The guests were perfectly self-possessed, with none of the mauvaise honte of such a gathering at home. They were perfectly easy to entertain, and ready to converse upon any subject, although, we were assured, less interesting than the natives east of the Jordan. The Bedu smoked when invited—the Druses add the prohibition of tobacco to the Moslem prohibition of wine.

When tea was handed round, the fun of the evening began. Two of the cakes contained each a bean, and those who found themselves possessors of the beans were king and queen for the evening; obviously a variant of an original three beans and three kings. The queen was a young Druse, tall and slim, with good features, and long, narrow eyes, which gave him an expression of sleepy good nature; the king was a much quicker-witted fellah, thick-set, with a certain piquant ugliness, and bearing the name of Dieb, which, in Arabic, means "wolf," and which, whether in Arabic or in German, was, we were told, equally appropriate.

In true Oriental fashion, the king issued commands through his wife, and required services of various kinds from the assembled company, who cheerfully complied, filled his drinking-bowl with tea or water as he might desire, fetched his tobacco, sang to him, and danced for him. The climax was reached when two of the men were required to serve the queen for a horse, and the tall Druse had to proceed up the room leaning on the shoulders of the two. The Oriental is a born mime, and the ridiculous situation was carried off with a savoir faire which only an entire lack of self-consciousness could account for. No musical instrument was at hand, but a little boy, of perhaps twelve, evidently a known expert, produced an excellent imitation of the shepherd's pipe by blowing into his fingers. We were sorry to get none of the characteristic singing, in which, as in the Hebrides, a motif is announced by one, and taken up in chorus by the rest; but the guests came from different villages, and, therefore, did not know the same songs—a fact which speaks volumes for the wealth of folk-songs—a wealth as yet very imperfectly estimated.

Nothing could have been more orderly and well mannered; the only exception was one of those which prove the rule. A boy, of perhaps sixteen, probably from shyness, refused to sing, upon which he was told to go. "You have had your Kuchen" (it was quaint to hear the Arab adoption of the word used among ourselves); "you have had your tea; you will do nothing—go!" And go he did, though we were pleased to see him slip in, half-an-hour later, by another door. When the king became impatient of his consort's inertness he started to his feet, tore off his head-dress, distorted his features, producing the most entire change in his appearance, and performed a whole drama in dumb show, which, even to the uninitiated, was extremely comic, and which produced shouts of laughter among the Arab element of the party—the Druse and Bedu dignity being less easily disturbed.

Arab entertainments are very long drawn out: when we retired to our rooms, adjoining the chapel, the party showed no intention of breaking up. The long-desired rain was a source of satisfaction, which added to the general placidity, if not hilarity.

Next morning we awoke to a world of intense green and blue, glistening with raindrops and glad with the singing of birds, the bulbul among the loudest, though it must be owned that, apart from association, he is much overrated, being vastly inferior to the nightingale or, to our ears, the thrush or the blackbird. After an early breakfast we remounted our horses, and, accompanied by our host, proceeded upon our interrupted journey northward.

We noted the little landing-stage, one of those reminiscences of the visit of the German Emperor to be found all over Palestine—sole representative of the busy wharves and boat-builders' yards of the time of our Lord, to which time belong also the tanneries, potteries, and dyeing-sheds, the remains of which are scattered around Et Tâbigha. Farther on we came upon hot springs, and the, to us, novel sight of a hot waterfall, with the remains of mills, aqueducts, and, possibly, baths.

In about half-an-hour we were at Tell Hûm, which, although no systematic excavation has yet been possible, is by many authorities assumed to be identical with Capernaum, and which, in this belief, was acquired in 1890 by the Franciscans, who, however, dare not, for political reasons, call attention for the present to the elaborate ruins which exist not far beneath the surface, and the workmanship of which appears to be Roman. Meantime the soil is under cultivation for the use of the convent at Tiberias, a solitary brother remaining there to direct the labours of the Arabs. The low, swampy ground is unwholesome for Europeans, and it is necessary to replace the lonely Franciscan every few months. The authenticity of the site has been much disputed; but the cautious Baedeker regards it as "as good as certain," largely on the authority of the old itineraries of pilgrims. Whatever its name, it was undoubtedly a sacred spot to the early Christians. The remains include the foundations of a building of unusual beauty, constructed of immense blocks of white limestone, so fine as to resemble marble, which must have been 75 feet long by 54 wide. The bases of columns and some very ornate Corinthian capitals are still visible, and it is not impossible that we may have here the synagogue built by the centurion, of whom it was said: "He loveth our nation!" The ruins, probably of a Christian church, which were seen here in 600 are not far distant, and it is evident that a considerable town once stood here—if not Capernaum then some other—upon which Romans and Christians have, in turn, expended wealth and interest.