Feb. 27.—From the Honey-khan we parted very early the next morning, and, proceeding westerly as the day before, arrived in one hour and a half at Oo-rem (Ur-im), an old village affording nothing remarkable but the ruins of a small church. From Oo-rem we came, in half an hour, to Kaffre; and in three quarters more to Essoyn (Es-aïn). īAt this last place we entered into the plains of Kefteen (Kaftīn), proceeding in which, we came, in one hour, to another village called Legene; and in half an hour more, to Hozano; and in a good hour more, to Kefteen. Our whole stage this day was about five hours; our course a little southerly of the west.
The plains of Kefteen are of a vast compass, extending to the southward beyond the reach of the eye, and in most places very fruitful and well cultivated. At our first descent into them, at Essoyn, we counted twenty-four villages, or places at a distance resembling villages, within our view from one station. The soil is of a reddish colour, very loose and hollow, and you see hardly a stone in it; whereas, on its west side, there runs along, for many miles together, a high ridge of hills, discovering nothing but vast naked rocks, without the least sign of mould or any useful production, which yields an appearance as if nature had, as it were, in kindness to the husbandman, purged the whole plain of these stones, and piled them all up together in that one mountain. Kefteen itself is a large, plentiful village, on the west side of the plain; and the adjacent villages, abounding with corn, give the inhabitants great advantages for breeding pigeons, insomuch that you find here more dove-cots than other houses. We saw at this place, over the door of a bagnio, a marble stone, carved with the sign of the cross, and the Δόξα Πατρὶ, &c., with a date not legible. It was probably the portal of some church in ancient times; for I was assured by the inhabitants of the village that there are many ruins of churches and convents still to be seen in the neighbouring rocky mountains.
Sunday, Feb. 28.—Having a long stage to go this day, we left Kefteen very early; and continuing still in the same fruitful plain, abounding in corn, olives, and vines, we came in three quarters of an hour to Harbanoose ('Arbanūs), a small village situated at the extremity of the plain, where, after crossing a small ascent, we came into a very rich valley called Rooge. It runs to the south farther than one can discern; but in breadth, from east to west, it extends not above an hour's riding, and is walled in (as it were) on both sides, with high, rocky mountains. Having travelled in this valley near four hours, we came to a large water called the lake (or rather, according to the oriental style, the sea) of Rooge. Through the skirt of this lake we were obliged to pass, and found it no small trouble to get our horses, and much more our loaded mules, through the water and mire; but all the sea was so dried up, and the road so perfectly amended at our return, that we could not then discern so much as where the place was which had given us so great trouble. From this lake we arrived, in one hour, at Te-ne-ree, a place where we paid our first caphar.
These caphars are certain duties which travellers are obliged to pay, at several passes upon the road, to officers, who attend in their appointed stations to receive them. They were at first levied by Christians, to yield a recompense to the country for maintaining the ways in good repair, and scouring them from Arabs and robbers. The Turks keep up so gainful an usage still, pretending the same causes for it; but, under that pretence, they take occasion to exact from passengers, especially Franks, arbitrary and unreasonable sums, and, instead of being a safeguard, prove the greatest rogues and robbers themselves.
At a long hour beyond this caphar our road led us over the mountains on the west side of the valley of Rooge. We were near an hour in crossing them, after which we descended into another valley, running parallel to the former, and parted from it only by the last ridge of hills. At the first descent into this valley is a village called Bell-Maez[527], from which we came, in two hours, to Shoggle (Jisr Shogher). Our course was, for the most part of this day, west-south-west. Our stage, in all, ten hours.
Shoggle is a pretty large, but exceedingly filthy town, situated on the river Orontes, over which you pass by a bridge of thirteen small arches to come at the town. The river hereabouts is of a good breadth; and yet so rapid that it turns great wheels, made for lifting up the water, by its natural swiftness, without any force added to it by confining its stream. Its waters are turbid and very unwholesome, and its fish worse, as we found by experience, there being no person of all our company, that had eaten of them over night, but found himself much indisposed the next morning. We lodged here in a very handsome khan, far exceeding what is usually seen in this sort of buildings. It was founded by the second Kuper-li, and endowed with a competent revenue for supplying every traveller that takes up his quarters in it with a competent portion of bread, and broth, and flesh, which is always ready for those that demand it, as very few people of the country fail to do. There is annexed to the khan, on the west side, another quadrangle, containing apartments for a certain number of alms-men, the charitable donation of the same Kuper-li. The khan we found, at our arrival, crowded with a great number of Turkish hadgees, or pilgrims, bound for Mecca; but, nevertheless, we met with a peaceable reception amongst them, though our faces were set to a different place.
March 1.—From Shoggle our road led us at first westerly, in order to our crossing the mountain on that side the valley. We arrived at the foot of the ascent in half an hour; but met with such rugged and foul ways in the mountains, that it took us upwards of two hours to get clear of them, after which we descended into a third valley, resembling the other two which we had passed before. At the first entrance into it is a village called Be-da-me, giving the same name also to the valley. Having travelled about two hours in this valley, we entered into a woody, mountainous country, which ends the pashalick of Aleppo and begins that of Tripoli. Our road here was very rocky and uneven; but yet the variety which it afforded made some amends for that inconvenience. Sometimes it led us under the cool shade of thick trees; sometimes through narrow valleys, watered with fresh, murmuring torrents; and then, for a good while together, upon the brink of a precipice; and in all places it treated us with the prospect of plants and flowers of divers kinds, as myrtles, oleanders, cyclamens, anemones, tulips, marygolds, and several other sorts of aromatic herbs. Having spent about two hours in this manner, we descended into a low valley, at the bottom of which is a fissure into the earth of a great depth, but withal so narrow that it is not discernible to the eye till you arrive just upon it, though to the ear a notice of it is given at a great distance, by reason of the noise of a stream running down into it from the hills. We could not guess it to be less than thirty yards deep; but it is so narrow that a small arch, not four yards over, lands you on its other side. They call it the Sheikh's Wife, a name given it from a woman of that quality, who fell into it, and, I need not add, perished. The depth of the channel and the noise of the water are so extraordinary, that one cannot pass over it without something of horror. The sides of this fissure are firm and solid rock, perpendicular and smooth, only seeming to lie in a wavy form all down, as it were to comply with the motion of the water, from which observation we were led to conjecture that the stream, by a long and perpetual current, had, as it were, sawn its own channel down into this unusual deepness, to which effect the water being penned up in so narrow a passage, and its hurling down stones along with it by its rapidity, may have not a little contributed[528].
From hence, continuing our course through a road resembling that before described, we arrived, in one hour, at a small, even piece of ground, called Hadjar-il-Sultan, or the Sultan's Stone; and here we took up our quarters this night, under our tents. Our road, this day, pointed for the most part south-west; and the whole of our stage was about seven hours and a half.
March 2.—We were glad to part very early this morning from our campagnia lodging, the weather being yet too moist and cold for such discipline. Continuing our journey through woods and mountains, as the day before, we arrived, in about one hour, at the caphar of Crusia (Krusiyeh), which is demanded near a khan of that name. A khan they call it, though it is, in truth, nothing else but a cold, comfortless ruin, on the top of a hill by the way-side.