Not long after setting out, we passed through a gap in the hills a quarter of a mile wide, whose sides were almost as perpendicular as if they had been walls shaped by the hand of man. The locality is called Marbat Antar, that is, “Antar’s Hitching-place.” Antar is the hero of many a fabulous exploit among the Arabs, much as was Hercules among the Greeks; and the prodigies of valor which he performed in defense of his tribe are celebrated in song and story. Among other wonderful feats, he is said to have leaped his horse across this deep ravine from cliff to cliff.
The first day’s journey homeward brought us to el-Wesen, a well where we had expected to lay in a supply of water for the long ride across the arid wilderness; but, to our intense disappointment, we found the water foul with dead locusts. Our Arabs, however, swallowed the nauseating fluid with great gusto, apparently rejoicing that they could obtain both food and drink in the same mouthful; and, as it was a case of necessity, we managed to cook some food with the water, and even drank a little of it in the form of very strong tea which disguised somewhat the insect flavor.
The next morning we were ready for the start at four o’clock and traveled all day through a rolling, treeless country, which in summer is absolutely bare of vegetation. At sunset we halted for two hours in order to rest and feed the animals. Then we mounted again for an all-night ride; for we did not dare sleep until we had come to water. There was no trail visible to us, but our guide held steadily on through the darkness. During the long night we could see ahead of us his white camel, keeping straight on the course with no apparent aid save the twinkling stars above. There was such danger of falling in with one of the robber tribes which infest this district that we were warned not to speak above a whisper. The poor donkeys also received a hint not to bray. Each of them had a halter looped tightly around his neck. As soon as an animal was seen to raise his nose in preparation for an ecstatic song, some one would quickly tighten the noose and, to our amusement and the donkey’s very evident disgust, the only sound to issue from his throat would be a thin gurgling whine.
As the night drew on we became so sleepy that we could hardly sit in the saddles, and before morning dawned we were burning with thirst. Our guide led us to another spring. Not only was it full of long-dead locusts, but a wild pig was wallowing in the filthy water! Even the Arabs refused to drink from the pool that had been defiled by the unclean beast. There was nothing to do but to push on again. We had been twenty-six hours in the saddle, with nothing to drink save “locust-tea,” when at last we came to a little village by a running stream of clear, limpid water—and our desert journey was safely over.
CHAPTER XI
SOME SALT PEOPLE
Whenever the genial American consul-general spoke of a certain godly Scotch-woman who was laboring for the uplift of Syria, a not irreverent twinkle would come into his eye as he paraphrased the words of the Gospel—“She is one of those salt people.”
I should like to write a book about the men and women of many races and many ecclesiastical affiliations whose lives are bringing a varied savor and moral asepsis to the land of Syria. It would contain tales of thrilling romance and brave adventure and a surprising number of humorous anecdotes, besides the record of quiet self-devotion which is taken for granted in all missionary biographies. Such a lengthy narration falls without the scope of the present work. Yet any description of Syria and its people would be incomplete which did not include at least a few glimpses of the men and women who, more than all others, are molding the thought and uplifting the ideals and helping to solve the critical problems of the land of Lebanon.
Earnest faith, noble character and uncomplaining self-sacrifice are not sufficient equipment for the Syrian missionary. These qualities are indeed needed, and as a rule are possessed in generous measure. But he who is to exert any permanent influence for good upon this proud, sturdy, persistent, quick-witted race, with its almost cynical proficiency in religious argumentation, must also be strong of body, alert of intellect, tactful in social intercourse, and withal of an adaptability born not of vacillation but of a firm hold on the essentials of life.