On the 3rd of April we rode further, and visited the Wadi Nasb, in which we also found traces of ancient smelting-places; and the following day towards evening, we reached our ship, which had been waiting for us in the harbour of Abu Zelimeh for several days.
Here we found to our great astonishment, four German apprentices, among them two Prussian Schlesians from the vicinity of Neisse. They had come from Cairo, in order to visit Mount Sinai; they had arrived happily as far as Suez, and there had waited in vain for a ship, and at last, like real modern crusaders, had set off alone on the road, in order to carry out their bold purpose. They had been assured, doubtless not in good German, that the way was short, and not to be mistaken, and that there was no want of water. In this good belief, their pilgrim-flasks filled to the brim, they set off into the desert; but the footsteps of the children of Israel were obliterated, and no pillar of a cloud went on before them. On the third day they had lost their way, their bread was gone, they had missed the wells, they had been several times stopped by Arabs, and only not robbed, because they possessed nothing worth stealing; and they would certainly have perished in the waste, if they had not from the mountains, at some hours’ distance, perceived our ship lying by the strand, and fortunately reached it before our arrival. Upon my inquiry as to the trade which they had intended to bring to perfection by this journey into the East, and if they expected to find employment among the monks on Mount Sinai, as they had brought no money with them, I was informed, that one was a carpenter, who hoped to make himself very useful there; unfortunately I was obliged to tell him that he would have to cope with a lay brother; another was a shoemaker, the third was a stocking-weaver, and the fourth owned, after some hesitation, that he was a woman’s tailor. Nothing else could be done but to take these extraordinary people in the ship with us, although the sailors looked at them ascantly, on account of the want of water. I had them set on shore at Tôr, and took care that they should be accompanied from thence to the convent.
Besides occupying myself with the wonderful Egyptian monuments of this land of copper, and the so-named Sinaitic inscriptions, I busied myself with examining the geographical questions relating to the sojourn of the Israelites on the peninsula. I think I have obtained, with reference to these occurrences, a result, which, although it differs in essential points from the general acceptation, if I have judged rightly, will form an important feature in the historical and geographical events of the Old Testament.[113] I will here merely briefly mention a few of the principal points, and will write more fully from Thebes.
It appeared very doubtful to me when I was in the convent at Gebel Mûsa,[114] whether it was the holy mountain on which the Commandments were given or not. Since I have seen Serbâl, and Wadi Firân, at its foot, and a great part of the rest of the country, I feel quite convinced that we must recognise Sinai in Mount Serbâl.
The present monkish tradition has no worth in an impartial research. This every one must know, who has occupied himself seriously with such things. If, even in Jerusalem they are, for the most part, not of the slightest value, unless they be supported from the original source, how much less are they worth on the Sinai peninsula, where they relate to questions much more distant, both as to time and place! During the long space of time between the giving the Commandments and the first Christian centuries, Sinai is only once mentioned in a later historical occurrence, as the “Mountain of God, Horeb,” upon which Elias appeared. It would indeed be extremely wonderful, if during this lapse of time the tradition had not been interrupted, and if also during that time the population had so changed on the peninsula, that we cannot point out a single place mentioned in the Old Testament with any certainty, and even the Greeks and the Romans were not acquainted with these old designations.[115] We must therefore return to the Mosaic accounts, in order to prove the truth of the present acceptation.
To this we must also add, that the general relative geographical position of the localities of the peninsula have not essentially altered since the time of Moses. They who take refuge in a contrary opinion, may undoubtedly prove everything, and for that very reason they prove nothing. It is therefore very important to keep the historical relations of the different periods before our eyes, because these were certainly likely to cause changes in different places.
Hence it cannot be denied, that the fertile and well-watered Wadi Firân, at all times, and therefore also at the time of Moses, was the most important, and most frequented centre of the whole peninsula, by reason of its unparalleled fertility, and of its inexhaustible bubbling fountains. That this wonderful oasis was then, as now, in the middle of the eternally naked desert, the whole character of the land proves. On the other side it is not less true, that the environs of the present convent on Gebel Mûsa were formerly, (notwithstanding the spare streamlets, which there spring from the earth, but only moisten the neighbouring soil), just as barren as all the other parts of that mountain waste; that the draw-wells[116] dugout of the rocks at first supplied water sufficient for the use of the inhabitants of the convent; and that an artificial irrigation of more than a thousand years’ duration, with the most careful employment of every means of culture, rendered possible the small plantations now found there.[117] In olden times there was not the slightest reason for rendering this desert habitable by art, so much the rather as it lay apart from all the connecting roads of the peninsula, and formed a true mountain hollow, to which there was only one entrance, through the Wadi e’ Shech. ^
In contra-distinction to this, there is one point of the peninsula, which, long before Moses, and also during his time, was of great consequence, but now it is no longer so. This is the harbour of Abu Zelîmeh. Here roads led from the three different mines, which are yet known to us, Wadi Maghâra, Sarbut el Châdem, and Wadi Nasb. No landing-place lay more conveniently for the union of Egypt with these colonies; it was, according to the account of our sailors, the best harbour on the whole coast, not even excepting Tôr. Here also the Egyptians must have taken much pains in making a plentiful supply of water. As neither the sandy sea-coast, nor the valleys leading to it afforded any, so they had, without doubt, dug wells at the next place which promised water beneath the ground. Such a place was found at the lower entrance of the Wadi Shebêkeh (with others Taibeh, where there still stand a number of palms, and many other trees, and consequently the ground is damp, although there is no well to be found).[118] This would therefore be the most proper place to dig for water, and make a well. Now there is no difference of opinion that near Abu Zelîmeh the encampment by the Red Sea was made, which is mentioned in the fourth Book of Moses as behind Elim. In the second Book this account is omitted, and only the twelve wells and seventy palm-trees named. How natural, indeed unavoidable, then, is the conclusion, that this well and palms of Elim, towards which the harbour of Abu Zelîmeh led, perhaps about an hour’s distance from the valley, and for this reason, in the account of the encampment of Elim by the sea, given in the second Book, from the watering-place of apparently the same name. According to the present, and also according to Robinson’s acceptation, the twelve wells of Elim were situated in Wadi Gharandel, according to the latest reckoning,[119] from eight to nine hours—a long day’s journey distant from the harbour, thus for the supply of this important place, quite useless. It is not easy to perceive what, in Wadi Gharandel, where still, at this present time, the brackish water of the whole district is somewhat more plentiful than elsewhere, could exactly have suggested the plan of these twelve wells. To this must be added that it is necessary to put the next preceding station, Mara, to an inconsiderable well, only an hour and a half or two hours from Wadi Gharandel, while the next station is considered to be eight hours distant. It appears to me not to be doubted, that the first three journeys into the desert led to Wadi Gharandel, that is Mara; the fourth to the harbour station, Abu Zelîmeh, i. e. Elim.
Now first, would the continuation be understandable? “And they set forth from Elim and came into the desert of Sin, which lies between Elim and Sinai.” At Wadi Gharandel also, the boundaries of two districts were as geographically incomprehensible as they are natural at Abu Zelîmeh. The harbour, with its small commodious plain, between Nochol-rock and Gebel Hammâm Faraûn,[120] forms with these two prominent mountains really the most important geographical portion of the whole coast. The northern high plain, regularly sloping towards the sea, was called the desert of Sûr; the southern, rising higher, and soon losing itself in the mountain lands of the primitive rocks, is called the desert of Sin. The remark, that the latter lay between Elim and Sinai, would have no sense, if it were not also said that the desert of Sin extends itself to Sinai, or further. The next departure, then, from the desert of Sin to Raphidîm, must not be understood that they had left the desert; on the contrary, they remained in it till they came to Sinai, whose name “Sini,” that is “the Mountain of Sin,” plainly derived its name from the district, and on this account could not be visited without the other. This also is confirmed by the account of the manna, which was given to the Israelites in the desert of Sin; for this is first found in the valleys near Firân, and grows as little about the sandy sea coasts as it does in the higher regions of Gebel Mûsa.[121]
Let us place here the preliminary question, which of the two mountains, Serbâl or Gebel Mûsa, was so situated as to be especially pointed out as Sini, the “Sinaïtic mountain of the desert of Sin;”—the answer cannot for a moment be doubted. Gebel Mûsa, which is scarcely visible from any side, and is almost hidden and “secret,”[122] neither from its height, nor its form, situation, or any other distinction, presented anything that could have caused either the native races or the Egyptian hermits to point it out as the “mountain of Sin;” whilst Serbâl, which attracts the eye from all sides and from a great distance, which dominates over the whole of the primary rocks, not only by its outward appearance, but also on account of Wadi Firân situated at its foot, ever the centre-point for the wide straggling inhabitants of the country, and the goal of all travellers, may claim the designation of the “mountain of Sin.” If, however, any one would wish to conclude from the departure from the desert of Sin to Raphidîm, that only the broad coast south of Abu Zelîmeh, which the Israelites must have passed, was called the desert of Sin, (which is the opinion of Robinson,[123]); still Serbâl, which adjoins and commands this district, and from here is accessible over the ancient convent of Si’gelji, would claim the designation as the mountain of Sin from the boatmen of the Red Sea; while Gebel Mûsa, which lies directly on the opposite eastern side of the great chain of mountains, could not possibly have taken the name of Sin from the western desert of that name, nor can it offer a suggestion for such a statement, as that the desert of Sin lies between Abu Zelîmeh and Gebel Mûsa. It is also reasonable to believe, that the whole of the primitive rocks, (that is, the whole of the peninsula south of Abu Zelîmeh), was called the “desert of Sin,” and consequently that Gebel Mûsa was included in it. This even does not necessarily exclude the belief that Serbâl, as the best known, the nearest, and as a much more important mountain to the Egyptian colonists than the southern mountains could be, would not have been distinguished by that name; whilst in the southern principal chain not even Um Shômar as the highest centre-point,—not the completely subordinate Gebel Mûsa,—still less the isolated rock Sefsâf, which Robinson considers the one, would have had such a distinguished designation.