I HAVE never seen a more beautiful day than the October Sunday in which we reached the city of Beyrout, at the foot of the Lebanon mountains. The Mediterranean sea was so smooth that one would never think of the furious storms that sometimes make it the terror of sailors. Yet, as we had sailed, off and on, for more than two weeks along the coasts of Greece and Asia, over water as calm and peaceful as a summer lake, we could not help but think of the tempests that the Apostle Paul sometimes encountered as he sailed over these same seas. We loves to read of his voyages as we came to, or passed, the places named in his history, and we recalled that in this part of the world "thrice he suffered shipwreck; a day and a night he passed in the deep," (2Co 11:25), nor did we forget the account of the great storm of more than two weeks' duration, narrated in Acts, Chap. 27. We saw the Mediterranean stormy enough a month later, but at this time for weeks its surface was almost as smooth as a mirror, as blue as the sky, except when it glittered in the sunlight, and then it shone like silver. It was a [77] sight not to be forgotten to see the sun sink at night into the waters, and disappear, as if buried beneath their surface.

      Long before we reached the coast of Asia, coming from Cyprus, we could see the dark line of the Lebanon mountains, stretching like a great solid wall along the eastern horizon. Here and there a tall peak shot up above the chain like a king crowned with a snowy crown, and as we approached the Syrian coast the whole chain seemed to rise higher and higher until it reached the sky.

      These famous mountains, so often mentioned in the Scriptures, extend in a chain along the coast for three hundred miles, and here and there a peak rises to a great height. I have already told how we landed at Tripoli, about eighty miles north of Beyrout, and went to the foot of the mountains to visit some mission schools conducted by American ladies. In front of us, while we were there, arose a tall mountain giant called Jebel Mukmeel, whose snowy head is held more than ten thousand feet above the sea. And as a little later we approached Beyrout we could see in the background the white crown of Jebel Sunnin, which rises to the height of more than eight thousand feet. The mountains nearer the sea are from three or four thousand feet high, and their slopes are green with orchards and gardens, or white with villages. Many of the wealthy people of Beyrout have [78]

THE GREAT LEBANON RANGE.--JEBEL MUKMEEL. [79]

summer homes in these villages to which they retire when the warm weather comes.

      As we sailed along in sight of the mountains our conversation turned upon the scenes that had taken place among their valleys. Through the great valley between the two chains, called the Lebanons, and the Anti-Libanus, was the great highway by which the armies of the Assyrians and Babylonians marched when they came to attack Tyre, Israel, Jerusalem and Egypt. At Riblah, among these mountains, old Nebuchadnezzar gathered the Jews, after Jerusalem was destroyed, when he carried them into the seventy years' captivity (2 Kings 25:21). At this place for more than three years he made his headquarters, from whence he could direct the siege of Tyre and Jerusalem, and at the same time keep up connections with the valley of the Euphrates and his capital of Babylon. It was to this place that poor king Zedekiah and his unfortunate companions were brought when the city and temple were destroyed, where his sons were slain before his eyes, and then his own eyes put out. Among these mountains old Rameses II., the king of Egypt during a part of the time that Moses was in Egypt, fought many battles with the Hittites. Just north of Beyrout he cut an inscription, boastful of his victories, in the rock upon the face of the mountain, which can still be seen and read. Here, too, King David made a successful [80] campaign, and the city of Beyrout, called Berothia in 2 Sam 8:8, was one of the towns that fell into his hands.

      Nor have these mountains been entirely peaceful in later times. It seems almost as if all their history was a record of war. Alexander the Great marched among them when he came to besiege Tyre; for two hundred years their crags echoed the fierce cries of the Crusaders and the Saracens as they fought in their valleys; and for the last three hundred years the mountain chiefs and tribes have fought each other, much as the Highland clans of Scotland were wont to do until they were brought into subjection.

      There are now two great bodies, the Druses and the Maronites, the first an offshoot of the Mohammedans and the other a sort of barbarous Christian sect, which hate each other and often come to blows. Some thirty or forty years ago the Druses got the better in the warfare, and would probably have been able to drive the Maronites out of the mountains, but European powers brought their influence to bear, and the Druses were well-drubbed as a consequence. On this account since that time they have been more fearful of raising a disturbance, and times have been more peaceful. Our dragoman during all the time we were traveling and camping in Palestine, was a Druse, named Joseph Sharra, a fine example of manhood, too, [81]

THE CEDARS OF LEBANON. [82]

and several of our attendants were from the Lebanon mountains.

      Nor do we forget, while talking of the mountains, to make mention of the fact that from the forests of Lebanon were brought the giant cedars which were used in the palaces of David and Solomon, and in the construction of that great temple which the soldiers of Nebuchadnezzar afterwards destroyed. These timbers were cut and prepared in the mountains, brought down to the sea, then carried by Tyrian sailors to Joppa, and carried up from there to Jerusalem. Those great cedars, the glory of the mountains, are now almost gone. Only one grove of nearly a hundred trees remains. Unless it were guarded it would soon be destroyed.

      While we have been looking at and talking about the mountains we have been sailing into St. George's Bay and approaching the city of Beyrout. If one reaches Palestine from the north he always enters at Beyrout; if he comes from the south he enters the country at Jaffa, the ancient Joppa, about two hundred miles down the coast. Those who make a Palestine tour in the fall of the year, as we were doing, land at Beyrout, gradually work southward, leave the country at Jaffa, and go from thence to Egypt. Those who make the tour in the spring reverse the program of travel.

      Beyrout, although it is as ancient as Old [83] Testament times, is now the largest city on the Asiatic coast of the Mediterranean with the single exception of Smyrna. Ships are always in the harbor' the caravans from Damascus, the Euphrates, Syria and northern Palestine bring here the grain, fruits, silks and cotton of the whole country for a market and shipment, and thus it has become a place of great trade, and a city of more than one hundred thousand inhabitants. There are so many Europeans settled here, engaged in trade, that in many respects it is as much a European as an Asiatic city.

      As we came into the harbor, the city spread around us like a semi-circle. It is on a promontory which juts down into the sea and bends around like a horn. It climbs up on the hill from the water's edge, and then up the lower slopes of the Lebanon, in a way that looks very impressive from the deck of a ship in the habor. About half the population professes to be Christian, and the business of the place is, to a great extent, in the hands of Greeks, Italians, French and English. There is a college here conducted by American missionaries, called the American Syrian College, which is educating many young men of the country, and is doing much to bring it out of its old ways. This place is the headquarters for Christian missions in Syria, and thousands of books [84] and papers are printed here which are circulated all over this country. A young man was on our ship who had come out from America in order to study Arabic and Hebrew in the college, and when we landed several of the professors were on the shore waiting to receive him. They were fine-looking men, as fine-looking educators as one will see anywhere in America.

      We were to leave our ship at this place in order to enter upon our camping-tour of Palestine, and I will describe our landing, which was very much like what we had experienced at every place where we had gone ashore in Asia. Our ship dropped its anchor about a mile from shore, as they always do at Asiatic ports. A yellow quarantine flag was raised, and a ship's boat with its papers was immediately sent ashore. As we stood on deck looking at the city, we saw about twenty boats, each with six rowers, starting out towards our ship, in order to secure passengers and baggage. When they came within about twenty rods, they stopped in a semi-circle, for the yellow flag was yet flying from our foremast. Until it went down there could be no communication with the shore.

      As we stood on the promenade deck watching the boats, suddenly Will shouted:

      "Hurrah! I see the Stars and Stripes over one boat."

      We looked in the direction in which he pointed, and sure enough, we saw waving in the breeze the [85] flag of our dearly loved country, dearer than ever when we were over seven thousand miles from our native shores.

      Mr. Crunden, our London conductor, observing our delight said: "Rolla Floyd is here. He is an American who lives at Joppa, and makes it his business to conduct travelers over Palestine. He will furnish our outfit on our camping tour. He always carries the U.S. flag, and you will see that it floats over your camp every night while you are in the country."

      Soon there came a signal from shore that the ship's health papers were satisfactory, the yellow flag was dropped, and on the instant the whole line of boats rushed forward like a charging squadron, the rowers screaming, the oars making the water fly, and the helmsmen shouting at the top of their voices. As they crowded around our gangways, they jammed their boats upon each other, pushed each other aside with beaks and oars, assailed each other in Arabic billingsgate, swore at each other, and one would have supposed that in a moment they would be boarding each other's boats and casting their crews into the sea. But the commotion ended without blows, and, in about five minutes the uproar had ceased, each boat had obtained its place, and the men were streaming up the gangways in order to secure passengers. Among them came Rolla Floyd and his Arab retainers; he and Mr. Crunden, who were old [86] friends, fell in each other's arms, and kissed each other, first on the right cheek and then on the left, in the fashion of the East which has been followed since the days of Abraham. In ten minutes more our company was in the boats that Rolla Floyd had brought out in order to take us ashore. He was to see to our camping-tour of Palestine, provide our horses, tents, and every necessity, and had come up to Beyrout in order to meet us at the ship. With him was the Druse, Joseph, who was to be our dragoman, and a number more wild-looking men from the mountain and the plain, with whom we were destined to become much better acquainted in the next three weeks.

      Our first night after our steamer voyage had ended was passed in Beyrout, where we rested sweetly in our hotel by the seaside. Though this city is in far off Asia, it has so large a European population, that it seems almost as much European as Asiatic. The hotels, the banks, the commerce, and the principal stores are most conducted by English, French, Greeks or Italians. Hence, our first night in Palestine was passed in a hotel where we enjoyed every comfort that we could wish for. We remembered this vividly during the weeks to come when our hotels were tents. We did not [87] sleep under a roof again until we reached Jerusalem.

      The boys were up very early in the morning, for they were eager for the start on our horseback tour along the coast to Tyre and Sidon. Indeed, I do not know whether they slept at all, for at times in the night I could hear them talking of their horses, saddles, and various equipments. At 5 A.M. they called me, and when I had dressed I found most of our company already down below in the parlors. They said that the horses we were to ride were ranged in the area in front of the hotel, and that as soon as breakfast was over, we were each to select one to ride for the next two or three weeks. The boys were delighted with the idea of a long horseback ride after traveling over seven thousand miles by steamer and railroad, and indeed there was no choice in the matter. This part of the world has no railroads, no stages, no carriages, no roads over which wheeled vehicles can pass, so that unless we chose to travel on foot, we must go on horseback. We rode three hundred miles before we saw a single carriage. There is a wagon road from Beyrout east to Damascus, and from Jerusalem one runs south to Hebron, and another down to the sea at Joppa, but these have been recently made, and were the only ones we saw in use in Palestine.

      Before sunrise we were out selecting our horses. They were small, tough, sure-footed, but vicious, [88] and had been mostly reared among the Bedouin Arabs east of the Jordan. One had to guard against their heels, but we found them easy under the saddle, fine walkers, and good at a canter. Indeed, we soon felt quite an affection for them. As soon as our selections were made, Joseph the Druse sounded his trumpet, and we all sprang to our saddles and started off in a column through the streets of Beyrout. We looked almost like an army. There were twenty-seven Americans, one Englishman, our conductor Mr. Crunden of London, Joseph our dragoman, and some six or seven Arabs who always attended us to provide water and other necessaries. Besides these, there were the muleteers and camp servants, who carried the camp, provisions, etc., who hurried on before us each day in order to have the camp ready for use at night. Including these, there were thirty-five Arabs who belonged to our expedition, and about eighty horses, mules and donkeys. Several of the Arabs could talk English quite well, and we found them very accommodating.

      I have spoken of our Dragoman. As he was to be the real commander of the whole party for three week, I must introduce him more particularly. The dragoman is a native of the country, must speak your own language as well as Arabic, has charge of the whole camp, and is responsible for all the arrangements while you are on the march. The comfort and pleasantness of the tour depend [89] on him, to a great extent. Some are tricky, dishonest, and endeavor to get as much out of you as possible, and to give as little as possible in return. Our dragoman was Joseph Sharra, a native of the Lebanon mountains, by birth a Druse, but educated at the American Syrian College at Beyrout, and a Christian by profession. We found him a Christian gentleman, quiet, accommodating intelligent, efficient, always on hand in the time of need, whether by night or day. If any of Our Young Folks should travel in Palestine, inquire in Beyrout for Joseph Sharra, and it will be a happy thing if you can place yourself under his charge.

      As we rode out of Beyrout on the south, and after passing through the groves of fruit trees for two or three miles, came upon the deep, shifting sands that reach nearly to Sidon, Will asked how far along the coast the plain over which we were riding, extended.

      "It reaches," said I, "with a few interruptions, where the mountains push down to the water's edge, all the way from Tarsus to Egypt. It is called by different names in the various parts, and you have all read of it in Palestine, as the 'Maratime Plain,' the 'Plain of Sharon,' or the 'Shefelah,' which means the Lowlands." [90]

      "What was the name bestowed on this coast where we are now traveling?" asked Bayard.

      "It is the ancient Phoenicia, the home of a very great people who had already occupied it before the Israelites came from Egypt. As they were a commercial people and loved the sea, their settlements were all along the coast."

      "Yes, I remember," said David eagerly, "Sidon and Tyre were two of their great cities. I have always wished to see Tyre ever since I read in Virgil's Æneid of Queen Dido being driven from thence by her wicked brother and going forth to found Carthage."

      "Well, you will get your wish to-morrow evening," said Bayard, "for Yusef (Bayard always called Joseph Yusef to show that he knew the Arabic for the name) told me that we would camp to-night at Sidon, and to-morrow night at Tyre."

      "Sidon and Tyre were the most famous of the Phoenician cities on this coast, but they were by no means all. Beyrout and Tripoli, where we landed on the last Sunday before reaching Beyrout, are among their ancient seaports. Indeed, their settlements were scattered all along the coasts. Their ships sailed to every part of the Mediterranean Sea, and even out on the Atlantic to Great Britain and the Baltic Sea. They also built ships on the Red Sea, and kept up a trade with Arabia and India. For many ages they were the greatest commercial and manufacturing people in the world. [91] Their purple cloths and their manufactures of brass, copper and iron were famous everywhere."

      "I remember," said David, "that Solomon sent to Hiram, King of Tyre, for workmen to help build the Temple, and that a Tyrian coppersmith, named Hiram also, superintended the construction of all the brass work of the building, and of the brazen vessels. You will find an account of him and his work in 1 Kings 7:13-51."

      As we rode south we met camel trains, trains of mules and donkeys, all heavily laden with wood, charcoal, grain, bales of silk or cotton goods, also with vegetables and chickens for the Beyrout market. Sometimes on one side of a camel would be swung a great basket filled with goods, while on the other side to balance it was another basket in which a woman and three or four children were riding. Sometimes, too, we met a man riding on a donkey so small that his feet nearly touched the ground, while his wife trudged behind with a child upon her back and a heavy load in her hands in addition.

      We stopped at noon at lunch and rest where a little river, called the D'Amour, ran down from the mountains into the sea, and it was very amusing to watch the great throngs of people, with their strange dress and strange ways, who were passing on the road to Beyrout. One man who had his donkey loaded with live chickens, kindly gave them water from the stream. He had a novel way [92] which delighted the boys, who had never seen any thing like it before. He filled his mouth with water, held it close to the cage, opened it, and then a chicken would thrust its head through the bars, put its bill into his mouth and drink until it was satisfied.

      In the afternoon our road led over a promontory where the mountains pushed across the plain to the shore. The way was cut out of the rock overhanging the sea, was narrow, slippery, and sometimes nearly blocked with stones that had fallen from above. History tells us that more than one battle has been fought at this narrow pass where it would be so easy to stop an army. As our horses picked their way with difficulty over and around the stones that had tumbled from above, Bayard remarked that he could easily understand now why everyone had to travel on horseback. "Yet," said he, "it appears as if there were wagon roads once over this country. I saw remains of an old paved highway as we were riding along to-day, and there are broken-down bridges over some of the streams."

      "Yes," I replied, "it was different once. We learn from the Bible that chariots were often used in the days of the Jewish kings. You will find one of many allusions to them, in the ninth chapter of Second Kings, where Jehu, Joram, and Ahaziah are all represented as riding in chariots. In the eighth chapter of Acts we have an account of an [93] Ethiopian, the treasurer of Queen Candace, who was traveling from Jerusalem to Gaza by the way called 'Desert,' and riding in his chariot. In the times of the Romans there were paved roads in portions of the country. We have seen some remains of an old Roman highway to-day."

      "What has caused the destruction of the roads?" asked Will.

      "The neglect of twelve hundred years. When this country was conquered by the Arab Mohammedans, they saw no need of wagon roads. They had always been wont to ride on horseback or on camels. Nor have the Turks ever been road-builders. It is their policy to get as much out of a country as possible, and to leave as little as possible. Nor have the crushed and hopeless inhabitants had the spirit to build roads of their own will."

      As the evening drew on of our first day on horseback, we crossed a small river, and then rode over a fertile plain, well-watered by running streams, and filled with gardens and orchards of orange, fig, pomegranate and lemon trees. We were riding through the gardens that surround Sidon, which have always been famous for their beauty and luxuriance. Then a little before sunset, we passed through one of its gates, for it is walled about by high stone walls, wandered around its streets, examined its bazaars, and then passed out at [94] another gate to our camp, pitched in an old cemetery near the wall. We hurried at once to our tents, curious to see what kind of quarters we were to have for the next two or three weeks. Will, Bayard and I had been assigned to tent "No. 40," and were delighted with what we saw as we entered. It was a large wall tent, about twelve feet in diameter, with double roof to intercept the heat, octagonal in shape, was carpeted with soft rugs, had three snowy beds on iron bedsteads, and a table in the center with basins, pitchers, water, towels, mirror, and hooks for our clothes. The boys looked around and then declared that this would do for a room, but wondered whether the table fare would be equally satisfactory. We went down to the seashore, took a delightful bath in the surf where old Phoenician ships used to be moored, came back much refreshed from the weariness of our day's ride, and were eager for the table, when the dinner bell sounded. Here we were no less surprised than with the arrangements of our tents. The long tables were shining with silver, covered with white linen, a napkin and napkin-ring at every plate, and a dinner fit for a king followed. Do you ask how we roughed it in Palestine? Well we managed to get along pretty well on a dinner each evening of seven courses, including soup, fish, roast beef or mutton and vegetables, roast chicken or some other kind of fowl, pudding, fresh fruit, dried fruit and nuts. [95]

      After dinner we gathered in tent "No. 40" and talked about Sidon. The boys were filled with wonder to think that we were encamped at one of the oldest existing cities of the world, a city older than Abraham, and mentioned earlier than Damascus (Gen. 10:15, 19). It was the mother city of the Phoenicians, and Tyre was one of its colonies. The Sidonians were known to the Greeks a thousand years before Christ, and were already famous for their commerce and manufactures. The city is often named in the Bible, both in the Old and New Testaments, and once furnished a Queen of Israel, the wicked Jezebel, who persecuted Elijah the prophet, and tried to bring the whole land to worship Baal, the god of Sidon. Its history for four thousand years is full of trials and calamities, but it still has about 15,000 inhabitants, of whom two or three thousand are Christians. Its harbor is too shallow for the steamers of our time, but can be entered by sail vessels, and it still has considerable coasting trade.

      Before we retired for the night, we went out and looked around our camp. There was a bright moonlight, and the walls of Sidon, the olive trees around out camp, and the white head and foot stones which marked the place where the good disciples of Mohammed were crumbling into dust, were almost as plainly seen as by day. Around our camp were slowly pacing the Arab sentinels, each with a musket upon his shoulder, who were [96] placed every night. Beyond them we could see groups of the Sidonians, looking curiously at the tents of these strangers from a far-off world. Then we retired to soft couches and slept sweetly in the old city of Baal and Jezebel.

      The next morning before daylight we were aroused by the shrill and jarring music of bugle, gong and bells that passed round to the door of every tent. It was the summons of our Arab attendants for us to arise. Springing from our beds, we made our toilets, packed our valises, and at the call of the bell assembled for prayers in the dining tent, followed by breakfast. When we came out again, our tents had disappeared, were packed on the beasts of burden, and on their way to Tyre. Before starting we went for a ramble through the narrow streets of Sidon under the guidance of our dragoman, looked at the old and nearly deserted harbor, and the fine-looking castle standing out in the sea, then mounted our horses for our second day's ride. Our course led along the level sea coast plain, varying in width from one to five miles, and so hard and smooth that we rode in a canter. About five or six miles south of Sidon we reached the ruins of Sarepta, as it is called in the New Testament, but Zarephath in the Old. Here Elijah found a refuge with the widow woman (1 Kings 17:8-24), and our Lord alludes to this fact in [97] Luke 4:25. The ruins are along the seashore, but the modern village is on the hills about a mile away and is now called Surafend. We are told that our Savior once came into the "coasts of Tyre and Sidon" (Matt. 15:21), and many think that it was to this place, so interesting in connection with Elijah's life, that he came.

      In the afternoon, when we were five or six miles from Tyre, we reached the longest river that we had yet seen in Palestine. It rises far away in the Lebanon mountains, like the Jordan, runs south, a long distance between two ranges, but at last breaks its way through by a great gorge and comes tumbling down to the sea. It was called anciently the Leontes, and is better known by that name now than by the modern Turkish term. We crossed it on a stone bridge which spans it by a single arch, and has fortunately been kept in repair. When I rode up on the bridge, I stopped to look at the river, and saw one of the boys who had not yet crossed, ride to the edge, and give rein to his horse to allow him to drink. As soon as the rein was loosed, the horse, eager for the water on so hot a day, sprang into the stream, and before the rider could check him, was in the stream where it was four or five feet deep. Then he rolled over, and horse and rider disappeared entirely from sight. In a moment they rose, struggling, but they fell again, and both went under a second time. I was now alarmed, but in a moment they [98] appeared again, finally struggled to the shore, and came out in a sorry-looking plight. The day was warm, and Will's clothes were soon dried, so that his involuntary bath did him no harm.

      For many miles we had at intervals caught a sight of Tyre, which is on a peninsula which stretches far out into the sea. The sun was still two or three hours high when we rode over the wide plain that lies between the city and the mountain, and traversed the neck of sand which now connects the city with the mainland. We entered the gates, for it is a walled city, rode down to its harbor, where we found several coasting vessels loading with grain, traversed the narrow, dirty, crooked streets, crowded with men, women and children who gazed upon us as though we were a menagerie of wild animals, and then came to our camp, which was pitched and ready for us, on the the seashore, just outside of the walls. Our dragoman always chose to camp outside of the towns because we needed a great deal of room, and because also we were less likely to be molested with fleas and other annoying insects, which are very common in eastern cities. Besides, it was much easier to guard our camp from intrusion in a large open space.

      There was one circumstance we noticed at Tyre which was not common in the East. We [99] had in most Eastern cities found the women whom we met veiled, but here we saw them in great numbers as we rode around over the city, gazing upon us from their windows, doors and on the streets,

MODERN TYRE.

without any covering of the head or face whatever. Our camp was a short distance from the southwest angle of the walls, and many came out and looked at us from the distance. When we took our plunge in the sea waves in the twilight, we found under the water great columns of fine red granite, many feet in length, and three or four feet in diameter, which had belonged to the old city in the days of [100] its glory. Indeed, the chief vestiges of the splendor of its days of greatness are found, either under the surface of the earth, or under the waters, which were once white with the sails of its ships. When, after our dinner by candle light in the dining-tent, we had taken a moonlight walk along the seashore and under the walls, we gathered, as was our custom, in our tent to talk over the matters which had interested us. At the request of the boys I gave a short sketch of the famous city, nearly as follows:

      "Tyre was the greatest of the cities of Phoenicia, and was for many ages the greatest commercial city of the world. It is called in the Bible 'the daughter off Sidon,' and was a colony of the place where we camped last night, but it also is very ancient. It is spoken of (Joshua 19:29) as 'a strong city,' and four hundred years after, in the time of David, he and Hiram, king of Tyre, were warm friends. At that time, 1000 B.C., we know that it was the greatest commercial city in the world. Its ships sought markets and traded on every coast of the Mediterranean Sea, and even on the Atlantic Ocean. Caravans brought to its wharves the products of Assyria and Babylon, and by an arrangement with the Jewish kings the Tyrians opened a port on the Red Sea, built ships there, and carried on a trade with Arabia and India. For centuries Tyre was to the trade of the world what Amsterdam or London has been in [101] later times. Troubles came, however, when the great empires of Assyria and Babylon pushed west and sought to make all this part of the world their provinces, Tyre was first besieged by Shalmanezer, King of Assyria, who failed to take it. Then it was again besieged by Nebuchadnezzar, at the same time he besieged Jerusalem. It was thirteen years before he took what has since been called Old Tyre."

      "I have seen that name," said Will, "and wondered why it was used. Was there an old and a new Tyre?"

      "The first city of Tyre was on the mainland, it is generally agreed, about three miles from here. We will ride over its site to-morrow, so the dragoman tells me. As the city grew great this spot, where we now are, which was then an island, was occupied, probably with great warehouses. It was then over a half mile from the main land, and the neck that we rode over this evening has been made by the drifting sea sands since that date. Nebuchadnezzar took the main city, the one on the mainland, and destroyed it. It has never since been rebuilt, but the inhabitants, when they found that they could defend it no longer, moved their goods here, where already they had a town, and built a new city on the island. As they had great fleets and controlled the sea he could not take it. The new city long flourished with great splendor." [102]

      "I have been reading," said Bayard, "in Baedeker, of Alexander the Great taking this city. He besieged it six months. He could not make headway until he built a causeway out from the mainland to the island for his soldiers to march out on, and to fight from. That causeway, like a dam, stopped the currents, and caused the deposit of sand which soon converted the island into a peninsula. Alexander was so angry with the Tyrians for stopping his army so long that he crucified two thousand of them on the seashore, and sold thirty thousand more for slaves."

      "War was very cruel in those times," said I. "There was very little known of mercy until Christ came to teach men mercy. Prisoners were either slain or sold into slavery. Tyre, however, flourished again under the successors of Alexander, and under the Romans. The Tyrian purple robes, colored with a dye obtained from a shell-fish on this seashore, were coveted everywhere. Paul once visited the city and found a church already here (Acts 21:4,5), and Tyre is often mentioned in early church history. You remember that Joseph this evening pointed out the ruins of an old Christian cathedral. It is very ancient. Origen, one of the early Christian fathers, was buried there. So was the German Emperor, Frederick Barbarosa, who lost his life near here during the Crusades. When, in 1291, Tyre was abandoned by the Crusaders it received a blow from which it has [103] never recovered. At one time it was entirely uninhabited, but was partly rebuilt about a hundred years ago."

      "What is the population now?" asked David.

      "About five thousand. Its low, mean houses, one story high, its scanty commerce, confined to schooner loads of grain which are shipped every year to Beyrout, are a wonderful contrast to the 'Old Tyre' of Hiram with its dye works, its cloth factories, its great glass works, its tall warehouses, and its immense fleets of ships. Will, please open your Bible at Ezekiel and read the twenty-seventh chapter."

      Then he read that wonderful description, beginning, "O thou that art situate at the entry of the sea, which art a merchant of the people for many isles," etc., and closing with the prediction of its overthrow and decay, which has been so remarkably fulfilled.

      The next day we rode over the neck which now makes what was once the island of Tyre a part of the mainland, went back a few miles on the hills to see what is called the Tomb of Hiram, a very remarkable monument that may have been the burial place of that old king, then came back over the ruins of Old Tyre, examined the line of an aqueduct that once carried water about five miles to the island city, and still carries the water of [104] some fine springs for several miles. The plain was as brown and bare as a desert, after the long dry season, but not far from the aqueduct we came upon a beautiful grove of mulberries, fruit trees, and gardens, so fresh and luxuriant that it seemed like an oasis in a desert. The reason was plain when we saw that the waters from the aqueduct were carried all through this island of green, and were running in a hundred trickling rills. Such scenes are very familiar in the East now, and must have been just as familiar to David when in the first Psalm he says that the righteous man "shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth fruit in his season. His leaf also shall not wither, and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper."

      Soon, as we journeyed southward, the plain narrowed, until at last the mountains crowded down to the sea, and for several miles our way led over rocks, ledges, and sometimes our path was along a narrow shelf dug out on the side of the precipice, and hanging over the sea which boiled two or three hundred feet below. After three or four hours of very toilsome riding we climbed the last of these precipices, and looked for its top into a great plain extending twenty or thirty miles to the southward. Beyond it was a high mountain which seemed to push itself into the sea, and a fine bay spread its blue waves between us and the base of the mountain. The plain, girt on the east, south [105] and north my mountains, dotted over with islands of green, with here and there a city showing its white houses, and washed on the west by the shining sea waves, spread before our eyes a scene surpassingly beautiful. We were on the famous "Ladder of Tyre," the mountain barrier between the kingdom of Israel and Phoenicia. The plain before us was the plain of Acre, a great plain, which stretches, under different names, though narrowed here and there, from the sea clear across to the Jordan. The mountain at the farther side of the Bay was Mount Carmel, so famous in Bible history. The cities that we could see on the seashore were Zib, called Aczib in the Bible; Acre, called in the Book of Judges "Accho," and Haifa, which nestled at the foot of Mount Carmel by the sea.

      Then we descended by a path, much like a ladder or stairway, so steep that we all dismounted and led our horses, and when we reached the level plain at the base we felt that, at last, we were truly in the Land of Israel.

      Long before we reached Zib, where we were to encamp for the night by the seashore, we found the road obliterated by the drifting sands. In many places along the coast these have swept in from the sea, and are burying the fertile plain as they advance. They move several yards farther in every year, and the people are powerless to stop their march. In some places they have moved in [106] several miles from the sea, covering the grain fields, destroying orchards, and changing the country to a desert.

      Zib, or Es Zib, where we found our tents pitched and awaiting us, is a small town situated on a rock washed by the waves. Though a wretched place to-day it is thousands of years old and is named in Joshua 19:29 as belonging to the tribe of Asher. The boys, however, thought it a splendid place for an encampment, for the sea bathing here was as fine as could be desired. We have a delightful plunge in the surf before we sat down to our dinner in the dining tent.

      Another circumstance occurred here that impressed Zib upon our memories. In the morning, a little while before we were ready to mount for our day's ride, Will spoke of the very fine spring that was not far from our camp; and we all went down to see it. It broke out at the foot of the rocky cliff on which the town was built, and the water gathered in a deep, cellar-like basin, walled around with rock, probably ten feet deep, with a stairway of rocky steps on one side. Over the bottom of this basin, which might have been twenty feet square, the water stood about eighteen inches deep. The women of Zib, for the women always carry the water in all the small towns of Palestine, were coming down in great numbers for their morning supply. They each had stone pitchers, or jars, upon their shoulders, which [107] would hold five or six gallons. As I saw them coming I thought of the servant of Abraham waiting by the well of the city of Nahor, of which you will find the account in Gen. 24:10-25. It is said that as "he stood by the well the daughters of the men of the city came out to draw water. And behold, Rebekah came out with her pitcher on her shoulder. And the damsel was very fair to look upon, and she went down to the well and filled her pitcher, and came up."

      This was a scene very much like this that we saw. The daughters of the men of the city came out to draw water with pitchers upon their shoulders, and they went down to the well and filled their pitchers, and came up. But they did one thing more that surprised us. They not only went down to the water, but stepped into it, stood there, washed themselves, combed their hair, washed their feet, made their morning toilet, standing all the time in the water of the basin, then filled their pitchers and walked blithely away. As many of them were very dirty-looking creature we had less relish for the water of that spring after the sight than before. Yet all our supplies for the camp had been taken from it.

      We rode to Acre this morning, which was only five or six miles distant. It is surrounded by a wall, which bristles with cannon. Probably no place in [108]

AKKA. [109]

Palestine has had greater need of walls, or has endured more sieges. The last was about 1840, when it fell into the hands of Mehemet Ali, the ruler of Egypt. It was attacked by a British fleet, and a shell fell into the powder magazine of the place, blew it up, killed nearly two thousand men, and nearly destroyed the town. It has not yet recovered fully from the effects of this explosion. In 1799 the great Napoleon tried to take it, but it was defended by the Turks, aided by the British, so desperately that he had to give it up after a long siege. During the Crusades it was more than once taken and retaken, and was for a long time in the hands of the Crusaders. When I spoke of this, David spoke up and said:

      "Yes, I remember about that. It was taken by Richard the Lion-Hearted. It was then called St. Jean d'Acre."

      "What is the place called in the Bible?" asked Will.

      "In Judges 1:31, it is called Accho. It is there said, 'Neither did Asher subdue the inhabitants of Accho, nor the inhabitants of Zidon, nor of Ahlab, nor of Achzib, nor of Helbah, nor of Aphik, nor of Rehob.' All these places were in the portion of the land assigned to the tribe of Asher, but it did not take them."

      "Is Acre mentioned in the New Testament?"

      "The place is mentioned, but it is called by another name. In Acts 21:7 it is said of Paul [110] and his company, 'When we had finished our course from Tyre, we came to Ptolemais, and saluted the brethren, and abode with them one day.' The city was then called Ptolemais, and already had a Christian Church."

      "Why was the name changed to Ptolemais?"

      "About two hundred years before Christ, a king of Egypt named Ptolemy took the place, added it to his dominion, and rebuilt it. He changed the name, gave it his own name, which it continued to bear for several hundred years. In the history of that period it is always called Ptolemais."

      Acre now has five or six thousand inhabitants, of whom nearly a thousand call themselves Christians. It has the same narrow, filthy streets, dark and crooked, that we have found in all Mohammedan towns. Like others, it has no sewers, the streets are never cleaned, and every sort of filth is thrown into them to remain until the rains wash it away. It was once a place of large trade, and Bonaparte called it the key of Syria. Now, however, the steamers pass it by and stop at Haifa across the Bay, where the anchorage is better, and the trade is being gradually changed to that point.

      From here we hurry around the Bay southward to Mount Carmel, which has been looming up before us every since we crossed the "Ladder of Tyre." Soon we are at the river Belus, which empties into the Bay a short distance south of Acre, [111] a stream only six or seven miles long, but fed by ever-flowing springs, a stream famous because an ancient writer says that the art of making glass was accidentally discovered on its banks. Then south, part of the time over the sands, part of the time on the hard beaten sea beach where the waves dashed on the feet of our horses, until within a few miles we came to another small river which we easily forded by riding across its mouth where it empties into the Bay. The boys, who had been reading up the night before on the route of the day's travel, knew at once that this was the famous river Kishon, so often mentioned in the Bible, on which was fought the great battle between Deborah and Barak on the one hand, and Jabin and Sisera on the other, of which there is an account in the fourth and fifth chapters of Judges.

      "Was it somewhere near here that the battle was fought?" asked Will.

      "No, it was some distance from here, not far from Mount Tabor. When the Hebrews moved down to battle it is said, 'So Barak went down from Mount Tabor, and ten thousand men after him.'"

      "Does not the Kishon rise at Mount Tabor?" asked Bayard.

      "One of its branches rises from springs at the base of that mountain; another branch rises south of Mount Gilboa. These united in the plain of [112] Esdraelon, and the Kishon drains that whole plain into the sea."

      "It seems to be quite a small river to be so famous," said David.

      "The fame of a river does not depend on its size. More people have heard of the Jordan than of the Orinoco. The size of the Kishon depends much on the season of the year. This is the dry season. Eight or ten miles above its mouth it is not flowing at all, and water is found in its bed only here and there in pools. Higher up, near its sources, the streams fed by the springs are flowing, but the water soon sinks away. But let the rainy season come, however, and then it floods the plain, and rushes down in a mighty torrent. I suppose a great storm came just before the time of Deborah's battle, which so flooded the level plain where Sisera was encamped that the nine hundred war chariots were helpless in the mud and water. Deborah, in his song of victory, says: 'The river Kishon swept them away, that ancient river, the river Kishon. O my soul, thou hast trodden down their strength.'" [113]

[YFBL 77-113]