The town of Dair el Kamar and the palace of Beteddeen, formerly the headquarters of the house of Shehâb, lay upon the road. The remainder of the journey after Mokhtârah consisted in a rapid descent to Sidon, the great port in antiquity for Damascus, Phœnicia, and the Lebanon.
This tour comprised the finest range of the territory occupied by the Druse nation.
1853. July.—From Bayroot, with its bewitching scenery and its gorgeous colouring of mountains and the sea, we went to ’Abeih, the best known of the American missionary stations in the Lebanon.
Through the woods of pines, with their reviving fragrance, and through El Hadeth, an entirely Christian village, where the bell of the Maronite convent was ringing as we passed, we came to Shuwaifât, and rose still higher towards the mountain pines and the breezes so desirable in Syria in the month of July, leaving below the olive in abundance, the mulberry and the fig-trees.
Beside the fountain called ’Ain Besâba was a pottery factory. The nature of the rocks around was soft sandstone; a gigantic pear-tree stood conspicuous among the excellent cultivation of the neighbourhood; higher still, between straight tall pines and wild holly-oaks, our road curved round and round the hills.
We overtook a company of Christians, the women riding and the men walking—this circumstance alone would show they were not Mohammedans. The two parties had to pass each other with much caution, as the path was narrow and the precipice deep below.
At ’Ain ’Anoob, where a copious supply of water issues from three spouts, the fountain has on each side the representation of a chained lion, sculptured in stone. One’s first impression would
be that this were a relic of the Genoese or Venetian crusaders; but these figures, whatever their meaning or origin, are not infrequent upon fountains about the Lebanon, even when only rustically daubed in red ochre; and it has not been often noticed that there are similar lions facing each other, only without the chains, one on each side of St Stephen’s Gate at Jerusalem. Some of the women at the fountains wore the horns on their head, the fashion for which is gradually passing away. The terraces on the hills were in the highest state of cultivation, and gave abundant promise of fruit for the coming season; the sun was near setting, the rooks cawing overhead, and we saw two little girls each bring a lamb to the fountain to drink and then proceed to wash them.
Sidi Ahhmad, a Druse ’Akal, with, of course, a white turban, undertook to be our guide as far as ’Abeih.
Fresh air to breathe! how different from the oppressive heat of Bayroot! We all drank of every spring by the way, and by consequence lifted up the drooping head, (Ps. cx. 7,) thinking each fountain colder than that before it.