"Oh my son!" he cried. "Shibly el Aṭrash is dead! Lend me thy shoes, that I may walk with the lady towards Ḥārim, for mine are worn."
The young man approached, kicking off his red leather slippers as he came.
"We belong to God!" said he. "I saw Shibly but a year ago." And the news had to be repeated to him in detail.
We journeyed on along the stony mountain tops, brushing through purple daphne that grew in wonderful profusion, and talking as we went as though we had been old friends long parted. When we came to the lip of the Jebel el 'Ala we saw Ḥārim below us, and I insisted that my companion should spare himself the labour of walking further. He agreed, with great reluctance, to turn back, and stood pouring out blessings on me for full five minutes before he would bid me farewell, and then returned to us again that he might be sure we had understood the wav.
"And next time you come into the Jebel el 'Ala," said he, "you must bring your camp to Ḳalb Lōzeh and stay at least a month, and we will give you all you need and show you all the ruins. And now may you go in peace and safety, please God; and in peace and in health return next year."
"May God prolong your life," said I, "and give you peace!"
So we separated, and my heart was warm with an affection for his people which it is never difficult to rekindle. Cruel in battle they may be—the evidence against them is overwhelming; some have pronounced them treacherous, others have found them grasping; but when I meet a Druze I do not hesitate to greet a friend, nor shall I until my confidence has been proved to have been misplaced.
Ḥārim castle stands on a mound at the entrance of one of the few gorges that give access to the Jebel el 'Ala. Beyond it lies the great Orontes plain that was a granary in old days to the city of Antioch. Much of the northern part of the plain was under water, the swampy lake which the Syrians call El Baḥra having been extended by the recent rains to its fullest limit. We turned south from Ḥārim and rode along the foot of the slopes of the Jebel el 'Ala to Salḳīn, a memorable ride by reason of the exceeding beauty of the land through which we passed. I have seen no such abundant fertility in all Syria. Groves of olive and almond shared the fat ground with barley and oats; tangled thickets of gorse and broom, daphne and blackberry, edged the road, and every sunny spot was blue with iris stylosa. Salḳīn itself lay in a wooded valley amid countless numbers of olive-trees that stretched almost to the Orontes, several miles away. We dismounted before we reached the town in an open spot between olive-gardens. It was five o'clock, but Fāris had not arrived, and we disposed ourselves comfortably under the trees to wait for him. Our advent caused some excitement among the people who were sitting on the grass enjoying the evening calm; before long one, who was evidently a person of consideration, strolled up to us, accompanied by a servant, and invited me to come and rest in his house. He was a portly man, though he had barely touched middle age, and his countenance was pleasant; I accepted his invitation, thinking I might as well see what Salḳīn had to offer. Opportunities of enlarging the circle of your acquaintance should always be grasped, especially in foreign parts.
