Before leaving Bethlehem it was considered policy to employ a Bedouin sheik, as security against these barbarians, who inhabit the mountains through which we were to pass. These Bedouins chiefly live in tents, their flocks and herds constituting their principal means of support. Their dress is plain and rather primitive—a flowing skirt or gown and a scanty undergarment of coarse calico fastened around the waist by a leather belt, ornamented with rows of cartridges in brass tubes; to these are added a long-barreled shotgun, with flintlock, slung over the shoulder, and knife stuck in the belt. This wandering people cultivate the soil to some extent. In passing over the mountains of Judea, we sometimes saw enclosed patches of cultivated ground near their camps, and many flocks of sheep and goats feeding in the glens and upon the adjacent mountains. Tourists are not safe in traveling through their country unless accompanied by some of their own people.
We stopped to lunch in an olive orchard, a short distance from Bethlehem, an enclosure called "The Shepherds' Field," where the shepherds watched their flocks by night, when the angels appeared to them announcing the grand and glorious event of our Savior's incarnation.
From here our route was over a rocky, tortuous path, through the wilderness of Judea, scarcely a tree, shrub or bush to be seen in any direction. The whole country is barren and rocky, herbage here and there sufficient only for the sustenance of sheep and goats. The mountain scenery was beautiful and sublime; occasionally I stopped my horse upon a lofty summit to gaze upon the surrounding scenery, a vast wilderness of mountains in an endless variety of form and size. Towards evening we arrived at the Convent of Mar Saba, about ten miles from Bethlehem. We descended a broad, paved staircase to a small platform in front of the massive walls, in which was a small iron door. We were closely watched by a singular looking friar, peeping through a loophole overhead. Presenting our letter of introduction from the Greek authorities at Jerusalem, which was scrupulously examined, we were admitted and conducted through the building by the presiding friar, a tolerably good looking and intelligent gentleman.
This convent, in some respects, is the most singular and extraordinary building in Palestine. It is situated in the midst of the wilderness where John the Baptist commenced his ministry. It is built upon the side of a terrific ravine, and consists of irregular massive walls, towers, chambers and chapels, built upon narrow rock terraces and precipices, advantage being taken of natural caves and grottos in the rocks and sides of the cliffs, insomuch that we could scarcely tell, as we passed along the narrow galleries and flights of stairs, what was natural and what artificial; the ravine is several hundred feet deep, the side of it covered from top to bottom with these natural and artificial works, woven imperceptibly one into another, forming a fortress of immense strength. It is considered one of the richest convents in Palestine; and the strictest precaution and watching are observed to prevent the wild Bedouins, who are constantly hovering in the vicinity, from entering and carrying off its treasures. St. Saba, the founder of this convent, was born in the year 439. He was a man of remarkable sanctity, and held in such high veneration that he drew thousands of followers to this desolate region. He had around him, at one time, fourteen thousand people in this glen and its neighborhood. He died in this solitary retreat, at the age of ninety-four years. We were shown his tomb in a small, neat chapel, also an apartment containing a pile of skulls of monks who had been martyred by the Persians, and a grotto where St. Saba spent many years of his life, which, according to tradition, was originally a lion's den. We saw a palm tree still flourishing, said to have been planted nearly fourteen hundred years ago by St. Saba.
This convent belongs to the Greek Church. The monks are required to observe the most rigid rules of abstinence and fasting, never allowed to eat flesh, and strictly enjoined to allow no woman to enter their presence or cross the threshold of their establishment. A small, peaceful tribe of Arabs, residing in adjacent glens, are employed by these friars to convey their food and clothing from Jerusalem.
In a small, open square, they spread out upon the pavement their little articles of traffic, consisting of beads, buttons, crosses, walking sticks, etc., inviting us to make investments. About seventy of these anchorites live together in this building, where everything around exhibits an aspect of gloom and misery, as might be expected where nature is interrupted by the exclusion of the cheering, enlivening and happy influence of woman.
From Mar Saba we proceeded to our encampment, half a mile distant, in a beautiful dell, encircled by stupendous mountains.
The following day, having nine hours' ride before us, we started before sunrise, our path extending over high, barren, rocky ridges, through a wild, desolate region, skirting fearful ravines, and passing along the brink of frightful chasms and precipices, occasionally catching a glimpse of the Dead Sea, through breaks in the distant cliffs; at length we beheld the sacred Plains of Jordan, and there, in full view, the Dead Sea, with its waters sparkling beneath the bright and burning sun.
Having descended into the valley, while passing through a jungle of tall cane and thorns, those of our party in front suddenly encountered a band of armed Bedouins, whose fierce looks and threatening attitude prompted them to turn back very hurriedly. Antonio, our dragoman, immediately rushed up from the rear to ascertain the cause of interruption; on his approach, the Bedouins concealed themselves among the cane and bushes, except three, who stood their ground defiantly. Antonio, some-what excited, hurried the company rapidly through the jungle, then galloped up to the three Bedouins, and, aided by his men, forced their arms from them, and took them as trophies of victory to the Dead Sea. The sheik being in the rear, and not appearing till the affray was nearly over, some conjectured that he dictated the ruse; our subsequent acquaintance with him, however, convinced us that this supposition did him injustice.
The Dead Sea is the most remarkable body of water in the world. It is ten miles wide, forty in length—lying in a deep ravine, about thirteen hundred feet below the level of the Mediterranean, enclosed by lofty cliffs of bare white and grey limestone. We stopped on the shore near where the Jordan empties. We noticed here quantities of driftwood, which had been accumulating for ages; but little else appeared except sterility, dreariness and death-like solitude. We were informed that nothing was to be found upon any of its borders exhibiting life except here and there where a brackish fountain, or little streamlet from the mountain, produces a small thicket of cane, willow and tamarisk. I think the water is more intensely salt than that of any other body of water except Salt Lake. It contains twenty-six per cent. of saline matter, which is sufficient to render it fatal to animal life. It is as transparent as the water of the Mediterranean. Its specific gravity is so great that the human body will not sink, and eggs float when two-thirds immersed.