class="x-ebookmaker-pageno" title="p. 3" id="pgepubid00035"/>of the prophet Moses, according to the Mohammedans,) then up an ascent still named Tela’at ed Dum, which is certainly the ancient [3] Adummim, (Joshua xv. 7)—probably so called from broad bands of red among the strata of the rocks.  Here there are also curious wavy lines of brown flint, undulating on a large scale among the limestone cliffs.  This phenomenon is principally to be seen near the ruined and deserted Khan, or eastern lodging-place, situated at about half the distance of our journey.  The name is Khatroon.

As we proceeded, our escort, mostly on foot, went on singing merrily, and occasionally bringing us tufts of scented wild plants found in crevices by the roadside.  Then we came to long remains of an ancient water conduit, leading to ruins of a small convent.  In a few minutes after the latter, we found ourselves looking down a fearfully deep precipice of rocks on our left hand, with a stream flowing at the bottom, apparently very narrow indeed, and the sound of it scarcely audible.  This is the brook Kelt, by some supposed to be the Cherith of Elijah’s history.  Suddenly we were on the brow of a deep descent, with the Ghôr, or Jericho plain, and the Dead Sea spread out below.  In going down, we had upon our left hand considerable fragments of ancient masonry, containing lines of Roman reticulated brickwork.

It was now evening; a breeze, but not a cool one, blowing; and we left aside for this time the pretty camping station of Elisha’s Fountain, because we had business to transact at the village of Er-Rihha, (or Jericho.)  There accordingly our tents were pitched; and in a circle at our doors were attentive listeners to a narration of the events of Lieut. Molyneux’s Expedition on the Jordan and Dead Sea in 1847.

Thermometer after sunset, inside the tent, at 89° Fahrenheit.  Sleep very much disturbed by small black sandflies and ants.

Thursday, 10th.—Thermometer at 76° before sunrise.  The scene around us was animated and diversified; but several of us had been accustomed to Oriental affairs—some for a good many years; and some were even familiar with the particular localities and customs of this district.  Others were young in age, and fresh to the country; expressing their wonderment at finding themselves so near to scenes read of from infancy—scarcely believing that they had at length approached near to

  “That bituminous lake
Where Sodom stood,”

and filled with joyous expectation at the visit so soon to be made to the Jordan, and beyond it.  Some were quoting Scripture; some quoting poetry; and others taking particular notice of the wild Arabs, who were by this time increasing in number

about us,—their spears, their mares, their guttural language, and not less the barren desert scene before us, being objects of romantic interest.

At length all the tents and luggage were loaded on the mules, and ten men of the village were hired for helping to convey our property across the river; and we went forward over the strange plain which is neither desert sand, as in Africa, nor wilderness of creeping plants and flowers, as on the way to Petra, but a puzzling, though monotonous succession of low eminences,—of a nature something like rotten chalk ground, if there be such a thing in existence,—between which eminences we had to wind our way, until we reached the border of tamarisk-trees, large reeds, willow, aspen, etc., that fringes the river; invisible till one reaches close upon it.

At the bathing (or baptism) place of the Greeks, northwards from that of the Latins, to which English travellers are usually conducted, we had to cross, by swimming as we could. [5]  King David, on his return from exile, had a ferry-boat to carry over his household, but we had none.  Probably, on his escaping from Absalom, he crossed as we did.

The middle part of the river was still too deep for mere fording.  Horses and men had to swim; so the gentlemen sat still on their saddles, with

their feet put up on the necks of their horses, which were led by naked swimming Arabs in the water holding the bridles, one on each side.

Baggage was carried over mostly on the animals; but had to be previously adjusted and tightened, so as to be least liable to get wetted.  Small parcels were carried over on the heads of the swimmers.  These all carried their own clothes in that manner.  One of the luggage mules fell with his load in the middle of the stream.  It was altogether a lively scene.  Our Arabs were much darker over the whole body than I had expected to find them; and the ’Adwân have long plaits of hair hanging on the shoulders when the kefieh, or coloured head-dress, is removed.  The horses and beasts of burden were often restive in mid-current, and provoked a good deal of merriment.  Some of the neighbouring camps having herds of cattle, sent them to drink and to cool themselves in the river, as the heat of the day increased.  Their drivers urged them in, and then enjoyed the fun of keeping them there by swimming round and round them.  One cow was very nearly lost, however, being carried away rapidly and helplessly in the direction of the Dead Sea, but she was recovered.  The Jericho people returned home, several of them charged with parting letters addressed to friends in Jerusalem; and we were left reposing, literally reposing, on the eastern bank,—the English chatting happily; the Arabs smoking or sleeping under shade of trees;

pigeons cooing among the thick covert, and a Jordan nightingale soothing us occasionally, with sometimes a hawk or an eagle darting along the sky; while the world-renowned river rolled before our eyes.

“Labitur et labetur in omne volubilis ævum.”

The novelty of the scenes, and the brilliancy of the atmosphere, as well the vivacity of the recent transactions in “passing over Jordan,” had their duly buoyant effect upon youthful persons,—who were, however, not forgetful of past events in these places belonging to sacred history.

The baggage went on; but, as the appointed halting-place was only about two hours distant, we remained enjoying ourselves as we were during most of the day.

Among our novel friends is an Arab hero named Gublân, as they pronounce it here, (but it is really the Turkish word Kaplân, meaning Tiger,) and his uncle, old ’Abdu’l ’Azeez.  About three years before, Gublân had been attacked by Government soldiers at Jericho.  He made a feigned retreat, and, leading them into the thickets of Neb’k trees, suddenly wheeled round and killed six of them.  The humbled Government force retired, and the dead were buried, by having a mound of earth piled over them.  Of course, such an incident was never reported to the Sublime Invincible Porte at Constantinople; but it was a curious coincidence, that this very morning,

amid our circle before the tents, after breakfast and close to that mound, we had Gublân, ’Abdu’l ’Azeez, and the Turkish Aga of the present time, all peaceably smoking pipes together in our