Three miles to the northwest, on the direct road to Nazareth, stands the tower of El-Fûleh, where Napoleon, with 3000 Frenchmen, successfully resisted the attack of 30,000 Turks during a period of six hours, and finally routed his powerful foe. But we had lingered too long on the heights of Zer’in, as night had set in, and we were an hour hunting for our encampment. Riding through fields of wheat and barley, we crossed the Valley of Jezreel, and, after a journey of three miles, arrived at the small village of Shunem, called by the inhabitants Sôlem. Though destitute of architectural elegance,its environs are beautified with large and fruitful gardens. Occupying the lower slope of Little Hermon, it consists of a few Arab huts, without a single vestige of antiquity. Belonging to the tribe of Issachar, it was the home of that “great woman” who built a “little chamber on the wall” for the Prophet Elisha, and here she “embraced a son” as a reward for her hospitality, and received that son from the dead as a farther expression of the divine regard.Her house, with the “little chamber on the wall,” is gone, but yonder is the field whither the child of promise “went to his father to the reapers,” where he received the fatal coup de soleil, and from which he was carried back to his mother. Fifteen miles to the southwest, but in full view, is the blue ridge of Carmel, where the prophet and his servant Gehazi lived in solitude, and over this intervening plain the disconsolate mother rode to lay her complaint before the “man of God,”who, yielding to entreaties, returned with her to Shunem, and called back the spirit of her departed son.[532] Behind the town is the “Hill of Moreh,” along the base of which the Midianites lay when surprised by Gideon, and where the Philistines were encamped the night preceding the battle of Gilboa.
JEZREEL.
Winding round the western base of Little Hermon, in less than an hour we came to Nain, whose name is suggestive of the most tender associations. Situated on a low mountain spur, its dwellings are small and its inhabitants are few. Directly opposite, standing forth in all its beauty, is Mount Tabor, and rising up beyond, far away on the horizon, is the white cone of Hermon. Though fortune has lavished no favor on this quiet hamlet, yet Christ has linked its memory with one of his most touching miracles. To the east of the village are tombs in the hill-side, where the people now, as of old, bury their dead. It was probably to one of these ancient sepulchres that his neighbors were bearing the “young man” to his burial when Jesus, coming from the north, met the funeral procession, and in tones of divine compassion sweetly whispered to the disconsolate mother, “Weep not,” while, with an authority that knew no barrier, he touched the bier and commanded,“Young man, I say unto thee, Arise.”[533] Three miles to the northeast, located on a rocky acclivity, is the small village of Endor. The path thither crosses the northern shoulderof Jebel ed-Duhy, and, entering the Plain of Esdraelon, diverges to the right up the hill on which the town stands. The transition between Nain and Endor is too sudden to be pleasant. Tender-hearted mothers and beguiling old witches are too unlike to be grouped together in the same picture or visited the same day. Endor is a wretched place of 30 huts, and the noble view afforded from its rocks is the only natural charm of the village. The sides of the hills that rise above it contain many large and curious caves, some of which are used for human habitations. Tradition has designated the most remarkable one of the number as the sibylline home of the famous witch of Endor. It is a deep and solemn cave. The entrance is guarded by two massive rocks, between which there is a large fig-tree, imparting an air of secrecy to the spot. Within the cavern is a spring of crystal water, and from the rocks above and on either side trails of maiden’s hair depend like curtains of Mechlin lace. From its inner chambers come deep and mournful echoes, and the alternate light and darkness within gives to the cave an air of witchery. Placed under the ban of the kingdom, with a price set upon her head, it is not unreasonable that the Pythoness of Endor should have sought a retreat so difficult of access in which to perform her necromantic feats. Celebrated for her skill, it was to her the troubled Saul repaired, in the darkness of an ever-memorable night and in the disguise of a peasant, to revive, if possible, his broken spirit by hopeful disclosures of the coming day. With a duplicity only equaled by her depravity, she evoked the venerable Samuel. Not in obedience to her call, but to forewarn the heart-broken king, the venerable prophet, “covered with a mantle,” appeared, and announced with more than Delphic authority,“To-morrow shalt thou and thy sons be with me.”[534]
NAIN.
The witch of Endor has left to her female descendants the impress of her brazen-facedness. There is an archness in their countenances and a boldness in their behavior not characteristic of woman in any other part of Palestine. Mounting a horse like a man, they ride with a swiftness and daring hardly excelled even by the plundering Bedouin. Destitute of all those finer virtues which belong to Christian womanhood, they are as vicious as they are uncouth. Not suspecting their honesty,I had left a leather pouch upon the ground which contained many valuables while I pressed a few ferns from the sibyl’s cave. Returning to the spot, it was gone. All swore by the beard of the Prophet they had not seen it. Threats made no impression upon their fears, and they smiled in scorn at being reported to the Pasha. In a moment the town was aroused, and our threats were returned with a shower of stones; but, revolver in hand, we commenced the search of every hovel. Descending a narrow pass in the rocks, I saw a woman standing in the mouth of a cave whose countenance excited my suspicion, and, offering her a baksheesh, she drew from the ample folds of her bosom the stolen pouch, with a shamelessness not unworthy Endor’s elder witch.
Three miles to the north, diagonally across the northern branch of Esdraelon, stands the Mount of Transfiguration. Whether considered for its natural beauty or as the scene of many thrilling historic events, Tabor is second only to Olivet in religious interest among all the sacred mountains. Separated from the surrounding hills except on the northwest, it stands out alone, having its base swept by the magnificent Plain of Esdraelon. Its shape changing with the stand-point of the beholder, it is not easy to define its graceful form. Having seen it from every point of the compass, its variant forms added not a little to my impressions of its extraordinary beauty. Viewed from the Heights of Carmel, it resembled a truncated cone; seen from the northern Hills of Galilee, it reminded me of the Pyramids of Egypt; from the Mountains of Samaria it appeared like the segment of a great circle; while from the summit of Jebel ed-Duhy and from the plain below it was not unlike a terraced mound or woodland park. More than two thirds of its sides on the east and north, up to its very summit, are covered with noble oaks and beautiful terebinths, not densely like a forest, but with open glades between oaken groves, adorned with grass, and strewn with pheasant-eyes, anemones, and amaranths. Its summit is an oblong area half a mile long and a quarter wide, broken into charming vales and hillocks, enhancing the delights of the spot. In ascending to the top the path resembled the threads of a screw, winding in gentle acclivities up to the highest peak. Now it led through groves of terebinths, now over flowery beds, now verging on the edge of a bold precipice, now entering dells sombre withthe thick foliage of stately oaks, and anon opening into glades where the grass was green and the flowers fragrant. Though the heat was intense without, the path was so smooth and shady that we gained the loftiest point in less than an hour, where we were refreshed alike by the unbroken silence of the scene and the unrivaled glory of the view.
MOUNT TABOR.