It wanted about an hour to sunset when we turned in eastwards, round the foot of old Hermon, for Banias, the Cæsarea Philippi of the New Testament, whose hill and ancient castle appeared not far distant.
We observed numerous small runlets of water flowing from the north and east towards the Tell el Kâdi, one especially of nearly four feet wide. Yet with all these blessings the district is mostly neglected, and abandoned to a sparse population of wretched Ghawârineh Arabs and their buffaloes.
We passed through neb’k trees and stunted oaks, some karoobah trees and sumach about twenty feet high, with their red berries, besides myrtles almost as lofty. Signs of the existence of inhabitants appeared in patches of cultivation and an occasional flock of goats. Trees became closer together than at first, and at length Banias stood in face of us, touching the foot of Hermon, which formed a magnificent background of receding heights, but its summit withdrawn from view at that position. An ancient castle crowns a high peak rising above the village, and which for
grandeur of situation and noble aspect is unsurpassed by any ruin that I have seen in Syria. Yet how small was all this in comparison with the mighty mass at its back! I regret the having been unable to examine this remarkable fortress, the modern name of which is the Kula’at es Subeibeh.
The halt was in an olive plantation, and while the tents were being raised, I rode forwards to the other celebrated source of the Jordan, namely, that issuing from the cavern, and drank of its water, but first had to swim the horse through a strong current.
How beautiful was the evening scene of rocks, trees, blue mountains, and the extended plain, with the thread of the Hhasbâni winding through it on the western side! There were also herds of cattle coming in, and a shepherd boy playing his rural pipes. What a scene for Poussin! I offered to buy the Pandean pipe (of several reeds joined laterally) from the boy, wishing to have it for my own, obtained at the mythological home of Pan himself—
“Pan primus calamos cerâ conjungere plures
Instituit,”
but the lad asked an exorbitant price for it, and strode away.
Then rushed up to make use of the fading twilight for catching at least a glimpse of the Greek inscriptions and Pan’s grotto, from which the
river issues, not in infantile weakness, but boldly striking an echo against the sides of the natural cavity.