Also among the marshes was a temporary village of tabernacles or huts made of plaited palm-leaves, and papyrus canes or reeds, such as one sees on the line of the Jordan or about the lake Hhooleh, with the same class of proprietors in both cases, the Ghawârineh Arabs. Strange that this race of human beings should prefer to inhabit feverish marshes.
We came upon a paved causeway (called the Resheef) leading from a large mill towards the sea, but only the portion nearest to the mill now remains entire. Probably this was turned to some account during the French military operations against Acre in 1799.
At Shefa ’Amer we had ’Ebeleen in sight. Both places are conspicuous over the district around. At some distance from the town is a large well for its supply, and along the broad road between the well and the town, the Druse women are
constantly passing with their horns over the forehead and their jars on the shoulders.
Shefa ’Amer is crowned by the remains of the Palace Castle erected by Shaikh Daher, (celebrated in Volney’s “Syria,”) and the shell of a large old Christian church; near these are some very ancient wells cut into solid rock, but now containing no water.
The majority of the inhabitants are Druses. There are a few Moslems and a few Christians; but at that time there were thirty Jewish families living as agriculturists, cultivating grain and olives on their own landed property, most of it family inheritance; some of these people were of Algerine descent. They had their own synagogue and legally qualified butcher, and their numbers had formerly been more considerable. [243]
I felt an especial interest in these people, as well as in the knowledge of a similar community existing at a small village not far distant named Bokea’h.
Upon the road that day, and in half an hour from the town, I met a couple of rosy-faced, strong peasant men, with sparkling Jewish eyes, who set to speaking Hebrew with some Rabbis in my company. It was in a scene of woodland and cornfields under the blue canopy of heaven; their costume was that of the ordinary Metâwaleh
peasantry, i.e., a scarlet and embroidered short coat with large dark blue trousers. I shall never forget this circumstance, of finding men of Israel, fresh from agricultural labour, conversing in Hebrew in their own land.
Our road then led through glades of exceeding beauty: an English park backed by mountains in a Syrian climate. The gently undulating land was clothed with rich grass, and sprinkled (not thronged) with timber, chiefly terebinth. Linnets and thrushes were warbling among the trees.