After spending a day or two more in this desolate but interesting city, we resumed our journey on horseback, northward to Samaria, our exit being by the Damascus Gate on the north. Outside of the city at a very short distance are the “Tombs of the Kings”—a building with a stone front quite underground, containing several chambers, but all empty. The entrance is a very fine and rare specimen of what seems to be old Hebrew workmanship, and is cut in the solid rock. Their history is somewhat doubtful, but they seem to be very ancient. If permitted to hazard a conjecture I would say this locality was probably Calvary.
Passing the upper end of the Kedron and along Mount Scopus, from which eminence we had our farewell look at the Holy City, we descended along the sloping pathway of the Mountain of Benjamin. Our first day’s journey brought us to Bethel, where we found an open somewhat elevated plain full of stones, on one of which “of course” Jacob had rested his head, but the pillar he had set up cannot be recognised. It is a very retired spot indeed, and there was certainly nothing to disturb communication with the Heavens above. Looking out of our tents after sundown the multitude of constellations in the deep blue empyrean were remarkably brilliant. Here at a yet earlier period Abram had set up his tent, and here also at a later date the Kings of Israel defiled the plains by erecting an altar to Baal. The modern name of the place is Betin, a mere village. The ruins of the ancient town (originally Luz-thar Bethel—“the House of God”) are scarcely traceable. Joshua gave it to the tribe of Benjamin as their northern border, adjoining to Ephraim. In it was one of Samuel’s Courts of Judgment, and here the Ark was deposited for some time. Ai, which once so withstood Joshua, is about six miles distant.
As we had now commenced a journey of some duration, travelling by day and sleeping in tents, it may be well here to describe our cavalcade. Our own party consisted only of four, each riding on horseback, as did also our dragoman, but our tents, our beds, our whole luggage and provisions, were carried on donkeys’ backs—the burdens generally being much more bulky than the animals which carried them, and were accompanied by the dragoman’s assistants and our Arab “muleteer boys,” who rode and walked alternately. But we had been joined at Jaffa by a very agreeable party of four, with whom we mutually agreed that it would be advantageous and pleasant to travel in company, although they were also already provided with a dragoman and attendants of their own—bipeds and quadrupeds—quite as numerous as ours. Including the two French cooks, therefore, with their travelling kitchens, our joint cavalcade consisted of no fewer than twenty-eight horses and donkeys, and travelling in single file, as we generally did, presented, as may be supposed, a somewhat formidable appearance. Our traveller friends consisted of an American party—a gentleman, his wife, and his son, who had resided some time in China, and another young gentleman, his friend. No home friends could have been more agreeable.
As before mentioned, the horses which we rode were spirited Arabians, and of small size. They almost never stumble, and my chief care was not to slip over their ears or their tail, as their alternating up and down course was as often at an angle of forty-five degrees or more as otherwise. In fact, I again confess my inability to give any idea of the roughness and unevenness of the roads, the word road indeed being entirely inapplicable to the “highways” or pathways of Judea generally, and the same remark applies to many portions of Samaria.
Among the other illusions of Eastern story is the care the Arab has for his horse. Instead of being kindly treated and tended, as I had always read, they are neither treated with kindness nor tended with ordinary care. Instead of kindly calling his horse by name when he has got loose, he chases him with a very large stone, which, when sufficiently near, he throws with force enough to seriously injure the animal. The horse, quite prepared for this, very dexterously eludes the missile, and this kind of hunt is sometimes a serious loss of time. I noticed several instances of their slyly pricking the horses with a short thick needle; whether from sheer cruelty or to serve some object of their own I could not ascertain.
As to the saddlery, it was quite a delusion—often broken, and as often mended with cords, on the strength of which depended in many situations the safety of the rider. With us, fortunately, no mishap of any note occurred; but I would advise any lady going the journey to provide an English saddle and girth at starting (which can be done at Alexandria), and not trust to the assurances of dragomans on this point. Fortunately, most of our party and all of the ladies were excellent riders; but in truth, the most inexperienced rider has not much difficulty in making the journey under ordinary circumstances if he is at all careful of his seat.
We generally rose daily soon after the sun, which was about six in the morning; and although it at first felt sensational to put our feet down on a cold stone, or in some cases on a few blades of grass, we soon liked the change, and, Mark Twain notwithstanding, we never once required to empty our boots of stray lizards! After performing our ablutions and breakfasting, the tents were struck, and we started on our journey for the day. The rest at noon for lunch was always most enjoyable—that is, if we got under a shade, which, however, was by no means always the case, for at noon the sun is high in the heavens, and trees are now few and far between in the land of Canaan; but even eaten in the sunshine we relished the oranges, the dates, and the figs as “pleasant fruit,” and very refreshing.
A day’s journey consisted of from twenty to thirty miles, which often occupied us seven or eight hours in the saddle, because our speed was slow, and the roads, if they must be called such, neither level nor straight. The distances are therefore generally described by hours’ ride instead of miles, for in some cases we might travel over three miles for one of forward progress. On reaching our journey’s end for the day, we generally found our tents erected and our dinner-table set out, graced with a pair of wax candles in tall silver candlesticks, and the dinner cooking in the distance upon a charcoal fire.