We pass several villages and wind among the hills, and in some of the villages, or near them, we find the remains of temples which were doubtless magnificent in their time. They are supposed to have been dedicated to the worship of the sun, though their history and origin are unknown. We are in front of the mountain of Hermon, known here as Jebelesh-Sheik, and it is observable that in several places the temples are made to face it, leading to the supposition that the mountain was an object of veneration and worship.
We pass the night in our camp, at the little village of Rasheiya; we are not in the village, but near enough to enable the beggars and the lame, halt, and blind to find us without trouble and ask for “backsheesh,” which they are sure to do. The white top of Mount Hermon rises above us, and we look upon it with longing eyes. Who will join me in climbing it?
We will divide the party for a day. We will put the “Doubter” with the rest of the mules and send them around to Hasbeiya, where they can wait till we get down on the other side of Hermon. We will start before daybreak, climb the mountain, and, by making sharp work of it, can get down to camp in season for a late supper. We shall feel as tired as though we had been run through a rolling mill; climbing Mount Hermon is serious business, and a thing to do once. Nobody would undertake it a second time, for the mere pleasure of the trip.
Hermon is, with one exception, the highest mountain in Syria, Lebanon being the most elevated. Its summit, or rather its highest summit, for it has three peaks, is about ten thousand feet above the sea level, and for the greater part of the year is covered with snow. In fact the snow remains there the entire year, as there are certain ravines and valleys where it never disappears completely, but lies in sloping streaks visible at a great distance. The mountain is of gray limestone, like Lebanon, and as one looks up its sides there is an aspect of almost complete barrenness. The central peak is entirely destitute of vegetation, with the exception of a few thorny bushes that seem to cling there in utter hopelessness.
The view from the summit is magnificent, and well repays us for our trouble. On the north we have the ranges of Lebanon and Anti-Lebanon, with the valley of Bukaâ between them. To the east is the plain of Arabia, spreading out like an ocean, and dotted here and there with ranges and clusters of hills that look not unlike islands. Southward is the Sea of Galilee, and beyond it we can trace the deep valley of the Jordan till it is lost in the distance and shut in by the mountains of Gilead and Samaria. We can see the sunlight playing on the waters of the blue Mediterranean in the west, and trace the coast line, with all its sinuosities, from Mount Carmel to Tyre and Sidon. At our feet and all below us the mountains and valleys, rivers and ravines, are traceable, and as we turn around the points of compass from north back to north again, a beautiful panorama is revealed to us.
On one of the summits of Hermon there are the ruins of a small temple; they are on the very top and near the edge of a cliff, and the character of the work indicates great antiquity.
Their history is unknown. But careful students of the Bible have connected them with certain passages which seem to show that the temples were used for purposes of idolatry.
We descend and rejoin our companions at Hasbeiya, where we