And on another day’s expedition alone, I was riding near ’Anâta (Anathoth) eastwards from the village, thinking over the faith of the prophet Jeremiah, in purchasing a family estate, the future occupation of which was contrary to all human
probability, and after recounting to myself the cities of Benjamin allotted to the priests, as Anathoth, (to which the treasonable priest Abiathar belonged, 1 Kings ii. 26,) Gibeon, and Geba, wondering what had become of the fourth city Almon, (Josh. xxi. 17, 18,) I came up to a hill on which appeared some remains of an ancient town; there my horse carried me up the steep side, and while passing among the lines of foundations on the summit, a peasant who joined me said the place was called ’Almân. Some time afterwards, I was riding on the other side of the same hill, in the direction of Hhizmeh, (the Az-maveth of Neh. vii. 28, as I suppose,) when a peasant informed me that the place on the hill was named Almeet. This corresponds to the other name of the town as given in 1 Chron. vi. 60, and vii. 8, where it is Alemeth. So remarkable a preservation of both names by another people than the Jews, after long or perhaps repeated desolations, appears to me almost miraculous, and is a fresh illustration of the exact verbal inspiration of Holy Scripture.
I once visited the rock Rimmon of Judges xx. 47. The first part of the journey was made in company with Lieutenant Vandevelde, going from Jericho to Bethel, a totally-unknown road; it must have been the same as that taken by Joshua after the fall of Jericho.
This was in 1852. The Arabs were unwilling to take us in that direction, probably on account
of some local hostilities to which they might be exposed. At first they denied there was any road that way, then said it was so difficult that we could not reach Bethel in less than two days, which was ridiculous, considering the shortness of the distance. At length we resolved to find a road without them, and ordered the luggage to go round by Khatroon, or if necessary by Jerusalem, but to meet us at Bethel that night.
Shaikh Mohammed el Hejjâz then sent with us his slave Sulimân. By his having that Moslem name, I should suppose this to be a freed-man, inasmuch as it is not the custom to give Moslem or Christian names to slaves; they may be only called Jewel, Diamond, Cornelian, Thursday, Friday, etc. It is not uncommon for a freed-man to be still called in popular speech a slave; but not in serious earnest or in matters of business, and not unless they are blacks from Africa.
It is not unusual in the East for a slave, even though still in bondage, to be educated in reading and writing, to be trained in military accomplishments, and so to be employed as confidential agent of property, or trainer of children in the family, riding the best horses and carrying weapons of best quality. And this Sulimân was a bright specimen of that class of men,—of good bodily presence, merry-humoured, and well-accoutred.
The first part of the journey in crossing the Quarantana mountain was precipitous, and even
dangerous for strangers; but the summit being attained, the whole of the remaining distance was a level plain. We were upon remains of an ancient road, with wells frequently occurring by the wayside; many of them, however, choked up with stones and earth.
Plodded quietly along, when, about two hours from Jericho, we were surprised by hearing human wailing and cries for mercy near us. This was discovered to come from a boy of about twelve years of age who had concealed himself behind a bush of ret’m, (juniper of Scripture.) He had never seen Europeans before, and, on perceiving the Hejjâz slave at our head, was apprehensive that we should plunder him of his ass and her foal. He was a peasant of Dair Dewân, [203] a village on the way before us.