FORDS OF JORDAN. PILGRIMS BATHING
Leaving the labyrinth, we emerged on a wide sterile plain, over which grew only a few stunted desert bushes. Here and there we could see the shimmer of the sunlight on a thin crust of salt. The Greek convent, standing in the midst of the waste, served as a landmark, and thither we directed our course, leaving the winding road. This cross-country riding in these parts has its dangers. The horses are apt to sink through the soft surface, into holes burrowed by the rodents; and deep ruts, worn by winter torrents, are often difficult to pass. At length we stood before the gate of the convent, and the hospitable monks regaled us with refreshing draughts of pure, cool well-water. It seemed only a short distance farther to the sea; but some of our company were growing fatigued, and, at our rate of riding, it would take almost till sunset to reach our camp by the “City of Palms”; so, reluctantly, we turned our horses’ heads northward, comforting ourselves with the hope that in a more convenient season we should stand on the shores of the Dead Sea and plunge in its sullen waters.
On arriving, we found the mukaries busy with the tents, which soon were ready for our reception. But we were disturbed somewhat to hear that one of our attendants was missing. He ought to have come with us toward the sea; but when we found he had not come, we concluded that he had accompanied the muleteers to Jericho. Now, however, he was nowhere to be found, and the mukaries assured us he had started immediately behind us. The evil reputation of the district made us rather anxious; but the reckless character of the man, and his habit of starting off on the wildest projects without a moment’s warning, led us to believe that Saʿid would turn up again, as he had often done before. We set up lights, however, on the most conspicuous points, when darkness fell, so as to guide him, if possible, over the plain. As the night advanced, and we still had no news of him, our anxiety increased, our main hope being that, as he followed us, he had arrived late at the convent and taken shelter for the night, or that haply he had found his way back to the bridge. Even with fifty men it would have been futile to search that wilderness in the dark. A hunt after a number of wild swine that came to the neighbourhood of the camp served only as a temporary diversion from the graver subject occupying our thoughts. The “garrison” of the town consisted of one soldier, whose services we secured without much difficulty. He was despatched, with the breaking light, to go towards Jordan bridge, and southwards to the convent, while some of our party prepared to scour the plain, the rest getting in order for the ascent to Jerusalem.
All were very early astir. Just before mounting, the plain was swept with the telescope, and in the distance a coming horseman was descried, who seemed to resemble the lost man. His appearance caused no little excitement in camp; for, on a nearer view, there was no doubt of his identity. Both man and horse were utterly wearied, and Saʿid’s garments were covered with blood. The tale he told of his experiences was terrible enough. On our departure, he lingered a moment to see the muleteers ready and on the road; then, as he thought, he followed us, but missing the way, he pushed straight southward, guided in part by the river, arriving on the Dead Sea shore just as the sun set. As he had ridden rapidly, he thought he might have passed us on the way; but, after waiting and careful search along the lonely beach, he despaired of finding us. He turned away in the twilight, hoping by instinct to hit upon some way leading to Jericho. Soon the night was filled with the horrid howlings of the jackals, all over that weary waste, and here and there the shrill laugh of the hyena fell on his ear. Pushing forward, he was speedily entangled among the sand-dunes. Climbing one after another, he sought to hit upon some landmark to guide him; but ever, on descending, his bearings were lost, and he wandered almost hopelessly. As the night closed in, he could see shadowy forms moving around, and the howlings came nearer and nearer. Suddenly, in the track before him, he saw a hyena glaring upon him. The natives believe that the hyena will not attack a man save when famishing or grievously provoked. But in such moments one does not reflect much on these things.
Fortunately, Saʿid had my gun and ball cartridge with him. With nerves steadied by something like despair, he aimed at the brute’s head, and, the ball crashing through the brain, he rolled over with a groan. A momentary silence followed the report, and then the dismal noises broke out again. Riding onward he saw, and not a moment too soon, a leopard crouching for a spring. Aiming swiftly, he fired, and the ball took effect in the leopard’s neck; but, withal, the brute was able to spring, and almost to reach his mark. “Then,” said Saʿid, his lip quivering and an unaccustomed tear trembling in his eye—“then I must have had strength given me from heaven; for, as the brute sprang, I reached forward, caught him by the neck, and hurled him back violently to the ground, where he lay stunned, and a second ball finished him.” He attempted to carry the leopard on the pommel of his saddle, and this accounted for the blood-stains on his garments. But weariness and anxiety soon overcame his purpose, and the leopard was left to decay among its native wilds.
Finally, baffled by the darkness and the intricacies of the labyrinthine windings, he climbed a little knoll, and tying the horse’s halter to his arm, stretched himself on the ground to sleep; but ever and anon, as the denizens of the desert drew near, the trembling creature tugged at the halter to awaken his master, and seemed to long for waking fellowship. At last he was overcome with sleep, and was only aroused when the horse had apparently come close up and whinnied in his ear. Then, rising bolt upright, it seemed to him as if the gloomy waste were all alive with moving shades, and vocal with dismal howlings. How he came out of that pandemonium he never could say; but ere long the dawn stole into the sky, and the wild beasts crept away into their dens. He found a poor shepherd, walking out with his flocks, who, seeing his forlorn condition, sustained the best traditions of desert hospitality by offering what he had for his day’s food to the weary traveller. Then he was able to make out the direction of Jericho, and, before the morning was well born, he was again with his companions, uttering perhaps the most sincere hamdulillahs of his life. After hearing this tale from the lips of that worn-out man, on the borders of the desert plain of Jericho, one could better realise what it meant for the Son of Man when, driven of the Spirit into the neighbouring wilderness, through the long nights He was “with the wild beasts.”
JERICHO. ELISHA’S FOUNTAIN
Poor Saʿid has now “joined the majority.” He escaped the beasts of the Dead Sea plains to fall a victim to a more subtle and deadly foe. While at work on the new railway near the Hummeh, the hot springs in Wady Yarmuk, he and many others were mortally stricken with typhoid. A heavy toll in human lives these valleys have exacted on the passage of that road of iron. Saʿid was a typical light-hearted Syrian, prone to err, who yet through years of service proved faithful according to his light, with a larger infusion of courage in him than is common among his countrymen. In steadfast loyalty at his master’s side, neither fatigue nor peril daunted him.