These mountaineers have a peculiar way of baking bread. They dig a hole in the ground, about the size of a large bottle—put a thick coat of plaster around the side and on the bottom, and then let it dry. It is very much in the shape of a large pot, a little bulging in the middle. A fire is made in the bottom of it, of small branches, and kept up until the sides are well heated; the flames are then suffered to go down, leaving the mass of coals in the bottom. They have the dough ready, and take a piece of it, about as large as a biscuit, and laying it on a board, press it out as large as a common-sized plate, and nearly as thin as the blade of a thick knife. They place it on a round pillow or cushion, (it is so thin it cannot be handled otherwise,) and strike it against the inside of this potlike place. It sticks, and in about one minute is baked. It is then taken off, and another put on. There are, usually, several women engaged at it at the same time, and they put them on with great quickness. You may see three or four of these wafer-like cakes sticking round the tan-moor, as it is called, at the same time, and changed for others every minute. They soon bake bread for a meal.
[LETTER VI.]
Beyroot, August 26th, 1836.
I have just returned from a tour to Damascus, Baalbec, and the far-famed Cedars of Lebanon, and will attempt a brief account of these places, and my adventures by the way.
I had the company of Mr. B——, Angelo to cook for us, and a muleteer, who took care of our mules, and who ought to have been our guide, but who, on trial, was found not to know the way himself—a state of things not uncommon in this country—and did it not extend to higher matters than to find the road from one place to another, it would not be so bad; but from all I see and hear, it is most dolefully the case in the great matter of finding the way to everlasting life. Guides there are many in religion, but few, if any, understand the way of salvation through our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. It is, indeed, astonishing how far the great mass of those who in these regions call themselves Christians, have sunk in darkness and ignorance respecting the most plain and leading principles of the word of God. The priests are "blind leaders of the blind."
As we set out for Damascus, from Bru-ma-nah on the mountain, we did not follow the usual road to Damascus from Beyroot, but took a more direct route. We made for the lower part of Mount Lebanon, between the Sun-neen and Jebal Knee-se. I had before passed over part of this, on my tour to the Sun-neen, some account of which I have already given you. Part of our way, however, before reaching the top, was new, but did not differ much from what I had before seen. We passed a considerable village, where the Jesuits are said to have a school. It is in a lovely, romantic spot, and near a most tremendous precipice.
The descent from the top to the plain is much greater than I supposed, when on the top. It took us above two hours to reach Zahle, which stands on the lower part of the mountain, and at some distance above the level of the plain. The side of the Lebanon next the plain is not quite as rough and rocky as the other; in other respects it does not essentially differ. The cultivation may possibly extend farther up—the rock more disintegrated, and the strata not as distinctly marked,—the general course of the ridge was more regular and uniform. The road, as we approached Zahle, was better than any I have seen on the mountains—it passed through a considerable extent of vineyards, and labour had been expended upon it—it was very passable, a rare thing in these parts.
A little above Zahle, and in and near it, a number of fine springs arose, and their effect on the vegetation was most striking; while the whole face of the mountain presented a most dry and parched aspect, with only here and there a bush to be seen, the heads of the little hollows about Zahle—a small district near the town, and a narrow slip along the waters, widening as it approached the plain, were rich in verdure, and abounded with the Lombardy poplar, the willow, the white walnut, and a variety of fruit-trees. You could trace most clearly where there was water by the vegetation which there covered the ground. Yea, you could point out most distinctly where the water was carried along the hill sides, in trenches, by the verdure which covered the whole district below, while all above was almost destitute of vegetation. The rising of water above and near the town, being very considerable, and being carried along the hill sides, and extensively used in irrigation, a larger district about this town was covered with trees, and bore more marks of productiveness than any I have seen in these quarters. A little below the town were some mills on this water-course, and many lovely gardens lay on all sides. The town Zahle contains from eight hundred to one thousand houses. They are crowded together, with narrow, crooked streets; and, like all other towns in this land, it has no claim to cleanliness. Judging from what I saw, the houses are universally built of unburned brick, made with a good deal of short straw mixed with them, no doubt to prevent them from breaking to pieces. The houses are of one story, have flat roofs, where people are often seen walking or lounging, and on which various things are deposited.