Yesterday we went through the Wadi Hebrán, which divides the Serbâl group from the chain of mountains of Gebel Mûsa, crossed the Nakb el Eg’âui, which forms a division between east and west, and here turning to the south over Nakb el Haui (the wind-saddle) we reached the convent by sunset on Easter Sunday. We were, as all travellers are, drawn up to the entrance in the high fortress-wall, although there is another even with the ground through the cloister garden, which however is never used but from inside. The worthy old prior of whom Robinson writes, died in the same year at Cairo, and has been replaced by another, Demetrios Nicodemos, who has the rank of a bishop. As this convent is a Greek one, instead of arriving during the Easter festival, we came during the strict fast. But, notwithstanding this, the lives and ways of the four priests and the
twenty-one lay brothers do not make such an edifying impression as we had hoped. A dismal spirit of wearied indolence and ignorance lies like a heavy cloud on their discontented countenances. And yet these fugitives from a world of care, living under an ever cheerful, temperate climate, can alone of all the inhabitants of these arid deserts stay under the dark shade of cypresses, palms, and olive trees, besides having the care of a library of 1,500 volumes, without in the least degree thinking of its most beautiful destination as an ἰατρεῖον ψυχῆς.
We have to-day been up Gebel Mûsa. It formed, in my opinion, and also according to the description of former travellers, the centre of the whole chain of mountains. This, however, is not the case. It belongs rather, as well by the planimetrical extent of the primitive rock, as by its elevation, to the north-east descent. The convent lies at an exact distance, three times nearer to the east than the west side of the mountain. Gebel Katherine, which lies next to it on the south, is higher than the almost hidden summit of Gebel Mûsa, which is invisible to the whole neighbourhood. Beyond Mount Katherine there arise, by degrees, higher and higher mountains,—Um Riglên, Abu Shégere, Qettâr, &c., as far as Um Shôman, which towers above all, and lies in the centre between the east and west slopes of the total elevation, and forms the north crown to the long ridge running south along the whole peninsula. The whole way up Gebel Mûsa, with the many points to which there are saintly legends attached, was a walk through nature in its wildest and most magnificent state, just as in our country one is led through an historical, ruined castle, where the private rooms, study, &c., of some great king are pointed out.
After our return from Gebel Mûsa, we went up the brow of the mountain called Hôreb, which Robinson considers to be the true Mount Sinai, instead of Gebel Mûsa, which has been till now supposed to be so. We passed many hermitages and chapels till we came to the last, situated in a hollow in the rocks, behind which the principal summit of Hôreb rises, rugged and grand. No footway leads up to it. We scrambled first through a steep cleft in the rock, then over the southern brow of the rock itself. At half-past five we were up just over the great plain Râha, upon the majestic, rounded mountain-top, which stands out so boldly from the plain. Robinson appears first to have tried this way, and then to have given it up, and to have ascended to the top of Sefsâf, which is certainly higher, but lies rather to the west, and does not stand out as the summit we climbed, which forms an exact centre to the plain.[106] Our guides all remained behind, excepting an Arab boy, as the ascension was almost dangerous. Even this situation did not prevent the thought from rising, as to whether Moses had ever stood upon any of these mountains which are visible from the plain, if we receive the account literally. We did not ascend Gebel Katherine, as it has less to do with history than Gebel Mûsa.
LETTER XXXIII.
On the Red Sea.
April 6, 1845.
I shall employ the time of our quiet seavoyage, which will take some days, in arranging the manifold materials collected on the peninsula, and to mark down the principal events of our journey. I will send a more copious account from Thebes.[107] These lines, however, will be given to Seid Hussen, at Qeneh, and be forwarded by the first opportunity.
We left the convent on the 25th of March toward evening, and went down the broad Wadi e’ Shech. I chose this roundabout way, because formerly (before the wild defile, Nakb el Haui, was rendered passable) this was the only way the Israelites could go when they wanted to reach the plain of Râha.[108] We remained during the night in the upper part of the valley, near the tomb of the holy Shech Sâlih, after whom the valley takes the name Wadi e’ Shech. In the lower part of the valley begins the manna-rich tarfa-bushes and gradually the Sinaitic inscriptions become more numerous. Before, however, we reached the end of the valley we quitted it, and turned to the left into the Wadi Selâf, which unites further down with the Wadi e’ Shech, in order to reach the foot of Serbâl by the shortest road. This immense height, towering over the mountainous landscape, we had often seen in our road when we had a clear view; and the accounts the Arabs gave of the fertile and well-watered Wadi Firân at its foot had made me desirous to make a nearer acquaintance. I had determined to ascend the mountain, and for this reason turned into the Wadi Rim, which runs into Wadi Selâf, into which Serbâl descends. When we had ridden a little way up this valley, we came to an old stone hut, which must have been inhabited by a hermit. Soon after, we found some Arab tents, and at a little distance several sittera-trees, which we chose as a resting-place.