The Crusaders, then, believed Cana to be north of the Buttauf Plain, the early Christians placed it south. In the seventeenth century both sites were known, but finally ecclesiastical sanction was given to Kefr Kenna; thus the northern site presents now only ruined walls and dry wells in the rock on the slope of the rugged mountain which is also named Kânah, whilst the southern place is a flourishing Christian village of flat-roofed huts standing above the beautiful gardens and orchards which surround its spring. Like many others of the New Testament towns, Ænon, Bethabara, or Nazareth, there is nothing in the Gospel definitely to fix the position of the place; Josephus and the Talmud give us no aid, and the question appears to me destined to remain always unsettled from want of any evidence sufficiently conclusive.
The survey of the country round Cana and Nazareth, as far west as Kishon, and north to the beautiful valley called Wâdy el Malak, occupied seven weeks from the 20th of October to the 10th of December. It was a period of constantly recurring difficulties, caused partly by the fanaticism of the Moslems, partly by the unhealthy season. The adventures of the party were far from pleasant, and the anxiety was considerable; all, however, was in the end successfully carried through, and Christmas found us safely housed in Haifa.
Warned by the misfortunes of others, we encamped first at some little distance from the quarrelsome town of Nazareth, in the flourishing village of Mujeidil west of it, a place containing Christians and even a few Protestants.
On the night of our arrival the weather broke, and on the following day the thunder-pillars, which had been piled over the dark slate-coloured ridge of Carmel, gradually approached; the effect was magnificent, with a mid distance of low hills covered with oak woods. The storm burst suddenly, the rain descending with violence, hissing on the ground as if not able to come down fast enough, and accompanied with gusts of wind, thunder, and lightning. This naturally called to mind the great storm after the sacrifice on Carmel, when Ahab sped over the plain before the swollen Kishon became sufficiently full to intercept him. In the evening the lightning over Carmel, in broad sheets and vivid forks, was equally fine. The face of the country was soon changed: crocuses, narcissus, lilies, squills, and red anemone appeared, the grass began soon to sprout, and the birds to arrive, and the yellow wagtail appeared by the springs; long wreaths of cloud formed on the hills, and bursts of sunlight or of rain alternated. The extreme clearness of the atmosphere was most remarkable, and distances became most difficult to judge, being apparently only half what they were in reality.
The scenery in the Nazareth hills differs very much in different parts; round the city itself it consists of rolling, rounded mountains of bare white limestone, but on the west these are hidden beneath a growth of forest trees. The wood consists almost entirely of oak, and in places is open with corn beneath the trees; but for the greater part of its extent it is very dense, especially near Harosheth (El Harithîyeh), a place thence named, where underwood, more or less thick, is found. Through this forest runs the beautiful valley called Wâdy el Malak, generally rendered “King’s Valley,” but perhaps better “Valley of Pasture.” Such a valley, with its cool brook and clear springs, its broad cornfields and patches of turf, its flocks and herds, we may suppose David to have in remembrance in the twenty-third Psalm. On either side the slopes are covered by the oak-forest, and innumerable wild doves find shelter for their nests among the branches. For quiet beauty we saw nothing in Palestine equal to this valley, up which in 1875 we ran the levels, thus visiting it day after day for more than a week.
Yet even here the absence of song-birds was very remarkable. Birds of prey, eagles, kites, hawks, vultures, and griffons may be seen almost anywhere in Palestine; the twittering of swallows and the screaming of the Galilean swift are also common; the jays and the comical little “boomehs,” as the owls are called, are always found in the olive-trees; but only at Jericho did we come across the bulbul, and only once (near Jerusalem) did I hear the nightingale. The noise of the cicalas in summer in the olives, and at night the peculiar gamut of the “wâwis” or jackals, and occasionally the bark of a hyena, and the shrill note of the great black crickets, are the most familiar sounds in tent life.
Mujeidil being a place visited by the missionaries, we here witnessed a curious scene. The native Protestant schoolmaster invited us to breakfast, and to the service held by an ordained native clergyman. The school was cool and roomy, with a bright glare through the window and door; the flat roof of wood was supported on masonry arches at intervals, and consisted of boughs smoke-blackened and untrimmed; the walls and floor were shiny with plaster also stained with smoke. Hence the effect was that so peculiar to these interiors, of broad dusky shadow and little bright patches of light: here and there faint lines of tobacco smoke curled in the air, and along the step of the diwan was a row of old slippers of the congregation. Three or four pigeons flew cooing about, and a dozen purple swallows were half hidden in the rafters, whilst an old hen with a tuft on her head stood in a corner.
On one side sat the men, some of them great villains in appearance, in old worn “kufeyehs” and brown “abbas;” behind them a young woman, probably only looking in out of curiosity, to see the Franks, dressed in the Nazareth Christian style, with the baggy trousers—a plump, dusky face, very bright eyes, and hair all tangled. Farther on the old schoolmaster, in a black mantle and white under-robe, hook-nosed, bald-headed, and grey-bearded; by him eight children of various ages, with fat, dark faces, rather pretty, but, as usual, coarse in feature, with bright sparkling eyes, white teeth, and well-shaped mouths. One girl had a sort of stomacher of silver coins, a second was in pink-striped calico, with a huge black Bible. A handsome little boy wore an olive-green jacket, a scarlet fezz, a salmon-coloured waistcoat bound with black braid, and white trousers.
Conversation with the minister, dressed in black overcoat and white gown, opened the proceedings; lemonade, coffee, and a cigarette followed. All the congregation then rose, the minister removed his fezz, and a prayer, a chapter, and a short sermon formed the service, concluding with the Lord’s Prayer, in which all joined, and the blessing; the whole in Arabic. The natives were reverential and attentive, but some of the children got tired of the sermon and set to teasing one another.
Leaving Nazareth as soon as possible, we made our new camp at the village of Sheikh Abreik, situate on a white hill, which projects as a bastion from the rest, forming one side of the narrow gorge where, under the cliffs of Carmel, the Kishon leaves the great Plain of Esdraelon to enter that of Acre. Here we spent a pleasant fortnight, but here also we had troubles with the neighbouring peasantry.