The only ponds in the country are the winter ponds called by the native name, balû‛a. These are formed by the winter rains. They stand for about five months in low places, and then disappear until the next rainy season.[[7]] Robinson, in 1838, passed by one of these on his way from el-Bîreh to Jifnâ. As his journey that way was on June 13, the pond was then dry. But this same pond may now be seen every winter and spring full of water. The new carriage road cuts the eastern end of it at a point a little over a mile north of el-Bîreh. Another of these ponds may be seen just under the village of Baytûnyeh, towards Râm Allâh. Were it not for such short-lived ponds many of the country people would have little idea of any body of water larger than a rainwater cistern. The Dead Sea may be seen from the high hills to the east of these ponds and the Mediterranean from those to the west, but only a small proportion of the peasantry ever get to see either one of them. A distant view gives the unexperienced no adequate notion of their size. People living in Jaffa, on the sea, have been known to poke fun at the upland folk and bewilder them with yarns about the sea. One story that they impose on the credulous countryman is that every night, at dark, a cover is put over the sea, as one would cover over a jar of water, or a bowl of dough. One man, on reaching Jaffa late in the afternoon for his first visit, hastened down to the beach in order to see the water before the cover should be put on for the night. Perhaps the best known winter ponds are in the extensive sunken meadows of the Plain of Esdraelon, athwart the way from Jenîn to Nazareth.
The springs of Palestine are its eyes, as the Arabs put it, and when they are sparkling with life the whole face of the country lights up with a wholesome expression.[[8]] In places where the springs are remote from the present settlements, and now used only for the flocks or by travelers, there are often to be seen remains of former buildings. Sometimes villas or even villages may be traced; old aqueducts also, and ruined reservoirs, showing how great pains were once taken to utilize the water supply. At ‛Ayn Fâra is a copious supply of water forming one of the few perennial brooks. In its deeper pools the herdsmen water and wash their flocks.[[9]] There is a very feeble attempt at gardening in the vicinity, but for the most part the precious treasure flows away unused. The valley sides show ancient masonry belonging to more thrifty times. On the hill ‛Aṭâra, a mile south of el-Bîreh, are ruined reservoirs to which the waters of the spring now called ‛Ayn en-Nuṣbeh were carried by stone conduits, of which only small pieces remain. So may similar indications be seen at ‛Ayn Ṣôba, at ‛Ayn Jeriyût, ‛Ayn Kefrîyeh, all of which are west of Râm Allâh. Present-day villages are often a considerable distance from the spring on which they depend for drinking water. Many large places are provided with but one spring. Nazareth and Jerusalem are thus limited to one good spring each. Around the Sea of Galilee and the Dead Sea are warm, even hot, springs once much prized as watering-places. They are generally sulphurous in character. Those at Tiberias, on the Sea of Galilee, are used now as baths.
RIVER AUJA NORTH OF JAFFA
Of wells Palestine has but few. Some of those mentioned in the Bible still remain, though not all are in use.[[10]] It comes more naturally to the mind of an Oriental to devote the labor and expense that it would take to dig a well to the construction of something in which to catch a portion of the rainfall. It is quite essential to the prosperity of Palestine that its water resources be husbanded through the long dry season.[[11]] As has been suggested, there is plenty of evidence that formerly this was done in a very painstaking manner, but at the present time far less care is given to this very important matter. Numerous cisterns and reservoirs were made to catch rain-water and the overflow of the fountains. The large number of these ancient devices for saving water, in contrast with the few made and used in these days, offers one basis for a comparison of the condition of the country in old and new Palestine. Rain-water was caught in cemented pits not very unlike huge pear-shaped bottles. Such water was used for all household purposes where spring water failed; also for watering the animals. It was drawn up as from a well. Occasionally these old cemented cisterns are still in use. But all through the country there are vast numbers of them that are no longer used. All about Jerusalem, especially north of the city, among the olives, they may be seen; also about the district of Râm Allâh, at Teḳû‛a and at Jânyeh.
The overflow of springs was provided for by more pretentious structures,—the great rectangular box pools built of solid masonry. The most noteworthy of these reservoirs are the so-called Pools of Solomon, three in number, south of Bethlehem, by the road that leads to Hebron. These three immense reservoirs, each of which, when full, would float a battleship, have a combined capacity of over forty million gallons. Formerly stone aqueducts conveyed the waters to Jerusalem. Remains of these are still to be seen. The water is conveyed now through iron pipes, fully eight miles, to the city. Jerusalem itself has the famous Pool of Siloam,[[12]] the Sultan’s Pool and the Pool of Mâmilla. The last one mentioned feeds a large reservoir within the city walls, sometimes called the Patriarch’s Pool and sometimes Hezekiah’s Pool.[[13]] At Bethel (Baytîn) the spring is surrounded by an old reservoir larger than the Pool of Mâmilla. It is now dry and its bottom is used as a threshing-floor. And so all about the country are found the remains of costly works designed for the saving and proper use of the water supply. With such means of irrigation the productiveness of the country must have been much greater than at the present day.
Sometimes, in speaking of the seasons in Palestine, we say summer and winter,[[14]] and sometimes we mention the four seasons. Perhaps if we should say wet season and dry season it would be less misleading, but even then one would have to bear in mind that the wet season is not a time of general downpour but simply the season in which the rains of the year come.
The wet season, or winter,[[15]] as it is more generally called, ought to provide, for the welfare of the country, from twenty-five to thirty inches of rainfall in the highlands. Sometimes it is as low as sixteen inches, and it occasionally exceeds thirty-five or even forty inches. Roughly speaking, the wet season claims the five months, November to March. In a very wet winter, perhaps, the rains will reach over a period of nearly six months, but, on the other hand, the rainy period may shrink to four. The most frequent and heavy falls of rain in an ordinary season are looked for near the beginning and at the close of the wet season. Many pleasant days,[[16]] and even some entire weeks of rainless weather, may be expected during this wet season. Now and then there may be a winter during which the water will be glazed over in the puddles a few times, or there may be several falls of snow.[[17]] Driving, raw, chilling rains and winds may prevail for a week at a time, or longer, and be less easy to bear than the stronger cold of a more northerly climate.[[18]]
The dry season is more in keeping with its name throughout its control of nearly seven months, although rain in May has been experienced and a slip in one of the summer months is not unknown. At the end of September or at the beginning of October a slight shower is expected. One scarcely expects rain, however, until well into November. Despite the very hot days in the dry summer season, the nights in the Palestine highlands are generally cool. The Syrian sun is a synonym for piercing, intense heat, and foreigners are more apt to be thoughtless of its power than to overdo caution. During the midsummer months it is hard to take photographs except very early or very late, or with very slow-acting lenses and plates. Then, too, the poorest light for distant views may be in summer, when the intense heat fills the air with a haze. Those who have seen the dead, brown look that comes on a district of country which has suffered an unusual period of drought may partly imagine the appearance of Palestine after a six months’ absence of rain unrelieved except for the night-mists that may prevail during some of that time.
After the drought the peasant, like the country, is pantingly ready for the first rains of the autumn. He never hesitates to choose between rain and sunshine. It is always the former. Even if rain comes in destructive abundance he has only to think of the terrors of a scanty rainfall to repress all complaints. As we say in a complimentary way to a guest, “You have brought pleasant weather,” so the Syrian will say, “Your foot is green,” that is, “Your coming is accompanied by the benedictions of rain.” Rains usually begin with an appearance of reluctance,[[19]] but sometime in November or December they ought to come down heavily for most of a fortnight. Sometimes there are several weeks of delightfully balmy weather between the drenching rains. During an unusually dry winter, when the rainfall is below twenty inches, much of the winter will be pleasant, at the expense of the crops and of the general welfare. At such times the price of wheat goes up and the scantily supplied cisterns give no promise of holding out through the succeeding summer. Springs dry down until the best of them offer but a tiny stream, and hours must be spent at some of the fountains to fill a few jars. Much of January is apt to be rainy. February is strange and fickle, and because it is especially trying to the vital forces of the aged and weak is called Old Woman’s Month. We remember a very pleasant February, but such are rare. Honest March is pretty much its boisterous self even in Palestine. April is sunny and a charming month for a journey. If the latter rains have been delayed they may come even in April, though that is late. But the needed rain has been known to come as late as middle May, with unusually cold weather. Then the peasants deemed such weather portentous.[[20]] The latter rains—how familiar a phrase to the ears of many who may not know just why they are so called![[21]] The downpour of November or December washed out the ground, made the heat flee, brought back health to the succulent plants, hastened the ripening of the oranges and did pretty well for the cisterns, but this latter rain is the key of the situation. If it does not come, wheat may sell at famine prices and all the pains of a drought take hold of the land.[[22]] But if it only will come, then wealth and comfort and a healthy summer.[[23]]