On the 19th of March we crossed the plain to the Enned Mountains, running along the seacoast, and passing them by a cross valley. A rich fountain was here, the running water of which accompanied us for a long distance. I should take it to be the Fons Tadmos of Pliny, as its water has only become salt and undrinkable by the natron layer of the surface. The ruins of Abu Shâr, the ancient Myos hormos, or Philoteras portus, we left to the right, and encamped on the peninsula of Gimsheh, called by the Arabs Kibrît, from the quantity of sulphur which is found there.
Yesterday morning we rode between the Enned Mountains and the sea-shore to the Gulf of Gebel Zeït. The ridges of Tôr, which floated milky-blue upon the watered mirror before sunrise, contrasted delicately with the heavens; first with the rising sun were its outlines lost.
After dinner we arrived at Gebel Zeït, “the oil mountain.” Our ships, sent for from Kossêr, had made the passage in six days, and already awaited our arrival four days. The camels were dismissed here, and went back the same evening.
A quarter north of our anchorage lay the Zeïtieh; so are the five or six pits called which are excavated in the shore-sand or rock, and are filled with black-brown syrup-like earth oil. Some years ago investigations were commenced here by Em Bey, who hoped to find coals in the depths, without however, up to this time, arriving at such a result.
Last evening was calm. In the first night there arose a slight wind from the north, which we immediately used for departure. With a favourable wind we might have made the passage in a single night; but now the day is again closing, and the haven is not yet reached. The long oars, too, which are now brought into employment, scarcely bring the loaded vessel on.
The sailors of the sea are very different from those of the Nile. Their manner is far more equable, less false and less creeping. Their songs, beginning with the first stroke of the oar, consists of short broken lines, given out one by one and taken up by others, while the rest make short tones at equal intervals. The rais, on a higher seat, also rows. He is a negro, like several others among the sailors, but one of the handsomest and most powerful blacks that I have ever seen—a real Othello, when, with his athletic movements, he rolls his yellow-white eyes, shows his gleaming white teeth, and commences the song with a piercing, yelling, but practised voice, leading it for some time.
LETTER XXXII.
Convent of Sinai.
Easter Monday, March 24, 1845.
We landed on Good Friday evening, by moonlight, at Tôr. The harbour is so full of sand, that our vessel was obliged to remain some hundred paces from the shore. A skiff took us to land. Here we were received by the old Greek, Nikola Janni, who had formerly also received Ehrenberg, Léon de Laborde, Rüppell, Isenberg, and other well-known travellers, and who had favourable testimonials to show of his conduct towards them. After a long bargaining with the insolent Arabs, who, as soon as they perceived our haste and impatience, sought every means to take advantage of us, we set off, with as few necessaries as possible, for the land journey, early the day before yesterday from Tôr, and let the ship go on to Cape Abu Zelîmeh to await us there.
Our road led in a direct northern direction through the plain El Ge’âh, which is about five or six hours wide, between the sea and the mountains, at the mouth of the Wadi Hebrân. But I made an excursion on the road to the warm wells of Gebel Hammân. These lie at the southern end of the isolated chain of mountains, which, beginning at Tôr, run an hour’s distance to the sea-shore. I met the caravan again by the fountain El Hai, which is pleasantly situated amongst palm-gardens on the road. The land rises gradually from the sea-shore till behind these wells. As soon as we had gained a complete view of the whole plain, and the summit of the high mountain which runs down in a steep and regularly descending chain to the end of the peninsula, I took the bearings of all the most remarkable points, entrances of valleys, and mountain-tops, which the guides were able to name. About half-past five, I arrived at the foot of the mountain. Here already at the entrance of the valley I remarked on the black blocks the first Sinaïtic inscriptions. A little further we came to a streamlet shaded by a few palms, where we encamped for the night.