THE CENTURY MAGAZINE. VOL. XXXV. APRIL, 1888. No. 6. DRUSE SHEPHERD. FROM DAN TO BEERSHEBA. THE become rich and in fluential merchants long before the Christian era. By their enterprise they had made their cities the ports of the East, and had gained commercial intercourse with other countries bordering on the Mediterranean and with those beyond. Instead of being a barbarous people, with unattractive surroundngs, they possessed many of the signs of elegance and taste which marked the cities of the West. Theaters were numerous; baths abounded; and the shows, the games, and the combats of wild beasts caused the people from all parts to pour into the Phenician cities. But little remains at Tyre or Sidon now to give evidence of their past. Seldom does a modern vessel touch at either port. The rapid traveler of to-day is content with a passing glimpse of them through a marine glass. When the weather is fair, the Mediterranean steamers pass near the shore and make such an opportunity possible, though that "soft artistic haze," so fascinating to the painter, is apt to obscure the distance, and shut from view the inclines bare, yet lovely, which reach inland. But when Tyre and Sidon were in their glory, how beautiful the scene must have been! Then the richly cultivated farms reached down to the very borders of the sea, and each cape, promontory, and hill-top exposed to the glittering rays of the sun the white walls of some prosperous town or the sumptuous dwelling of a landed proprietor. A small but magnificent port was then part of the glory of each city. When Herod ruled in Phenicia, these harbors were continually crowded with the vessels of all nations. The noise and confusion were scarcely less than at Antioch or Rome. The cities and the ports, though not extensive, always teemed with life, and were vivid with a wealth of color. The moving vessels, the rude encounters of the sailors, the ravings of the wild beasts which were brought from the far East and South for the public games, the songs of the fishermen, the busy movements of the merchants all together made up picturesque scenes in endless variety. How changed it all is now! Eastward are the undulating, fruitful plains, gay and bright with flowers and verdure, backed by the southern ridges of Lebanon. These plains, extending from one city to the other, twenty-five miles, constituted "the coasts of Tyre and Sidon," or, as the New Revision calls them, "the borders." One may start from Sidon on the old road and then go through the wooded pathways and the romantic ravines of the spurs of Lebanon, until a height of six thousand feet or more is reached. Soon after the descent on the eastern side, the natural bridge which spans the Leontes is crossed, and then the road is good until the valley of the upper Jordan comes into view, and a turn to the south is made. If the start is made early in the day, the air will be fresh. The first rays of the sun, coming up over the mountains, set aglow one line of hills after another as the Copyright, 1888, by THE CENTURY Co. All rights reserved. light descends and diffuses itself in the valley, at the same time awakening the laggard clouds and sending them up whence they came. Peasants are met, now singly, now in twos, now in groups, with loaded mule or camel, on their way to the markets of the Phenician capital; others are seen coming out from their humble dwellings, or humbler tents, it may be, to begin the labor of the day. It is a region full of beauty. Now the sun is well up, and the most striking features of northern Syria begin to be revealed. Hills of considerable height abound, and remind one of the lower ridges of the Apennines, or of the New England Appalachians. Some are bare and rocky, but the majority are clothed with verdure. Far above the narrow road are the terraced vineyards, with the dwellings of the inhabitants scattered among them, the dwelling and the watchtower all in one. Wherever the prospect opens and the hills Now the second climb begins. The outlooks from the narrow way are wonderfully impress ive. One seems to be traveling in the center of the world. For there, far below, and each hour growing farther, lies spread all the world the eye can see, while upward the stupendous masses of what seem to be parts of another world pierce the clouds and invite the pilgrim on. As the higher points are gained, the expanses below widen and the glory of the scene increases. On the west is the sea, whose breakers carry the warm breath of the Orient to the shores of Europe; on the east is the wonderful desert, whose golden carpet stretches to the Persian Gulf. The land westward, over which we have traveled, looks like a miniature landscape. The squatty woods, the glistening streams, the steep inclines, the dots of villages, the feeble shouts of the fellahin, even the thunder as it rumbles among the clouds far belowall strike one as in draw back, groups of homes are seen set closely together. As in southern Italy, so here the vines are often trailed from tree to tree, and from shrub to shrub, and so rich and red is their fruitage that they seem to be dripping with blood. If the vintage is in progress, the wild and merry songs of the laborers will be heard right and left, only silenced for a moment as you are greeted with their hearty "Salaam ahlaykoom! ("Peace go with you!") and a free and abundant gift of the fruit is pressed upon you. THE COASTS OF TYRE AND SIDON. significant in comparison with the noble surrounding peaks. Now we turn to the east. Away across a deep valley is another range of mountains, snow covered, stream scarred, broken by chasms and ravines through its great length. This is the Anti-Lebanon,- Mount Hermon its crown,- and runs almost parallel with the range of Lebanon itself. These two stupendous ranges have been pushed up from the earth-crust to an altitude, in some places, of thirteen thousand feet. The great depression between them is Cole-Syria, or "HollowSyria." Through it run the two great rivers of Syria: the Orontes flowing north and entering the Mediterranean at Antioch; and the Leontes, crossed on our way, and ending near Tyre. The plain is nine miles wide, and for centu -almost from "Dan to Beersheba." Northvard, the Leontes may be traced almost to Baalbec. South-eastward, the country of Bahan lies outspread with a surface undulating s gently as the waves of the summer sea Gilead, dotted with its dark-green groves of aks, rounded and inclined to suit the humor of its rising and falling expanses; the first swell of the Jordan at Lake Hûleh, the "waters of Merom"; the second widening of the sacred iver-the Sea of Galilee-and the twisting of the connecting torrent-broken stream, with niles of country beyond, are in full view. If your geography serves you, there is no trouble n locating Mount Ebal and Mount Gerizim, in Samaria; Mount Tabor, at the head of the plain of Esdraelon; Mount Gilboa, far to the south; and Mount Carmel, by the Mediterranean. The eastern incline of the Lebanon range is not so attractive as the side towards the sea, and traveling there is fatiguing. In some places the path is so narrow and runs so near the verge of frightful precipices, that one shudders every time his carefully-stepping animal grazes its side against the walls of rock. The views are magnificent. Here and there, on the left, bright golden lines are seen, strangely smooth in contrast with the rugged scenery. They are parts of the diligence road running from Baal THE FOUNTAIN OF DAN. the husbandmen are busy, and flocks of sheep and cattle are plenty. There are khans, or inns, by the wayside. These the caravan merchant considers very desirable; but they have only an æsthetic attraction to the European or the American, and are without any comforts. When the shades of evening come on, crowds of travelers, with their camels, asses, and other beasts of burden, throng the gateways of the khan. There is always a storm of bickering going on between the keeper of the khan and his patrons, or among the attachés of the caravan - merchants and servants. The khan is usually built around a court-yard, with sheds or booths for the animals occupying the ground floor, while the travelers may take what chance there is for sleep on the more elevated platforms. Our route brings our crossing of the Leontes at the natural bridge, near the town of Belat. The bridge seems to be formed of immense ne sees an Arab caravan, with its fifty awkard camels laden with merchandise and as any dark-skinned attendants with their noisy luster and pompous demeanor, crossing the ridge, on its way to Cæsarea Philippi. The usic of the stream sounds all the sweeter hen the caravan is lost in silence. After crossing the bridge, we change our ourse to the right for a mile, and come pon the Fountain of Dan, which is the rgest spring in Syria, if not in the world, ad one of the loveliest spots in Palestine. lere is another source of the Jordan nestled mong the wild flowers. Its waters once suplied the ancient city after hich it is named. It also arks the northern border Palestine. To possess its pol waters, more than one erce combat has taken lace. Here Lot was brought prisoner from Sodom by e five kings of Mesopomia, and hither came bram to rescue him. The rowth of flowers is charmg. It includes our own poppy, the daisy, white nd yellow roses, the thistle, e blue flag, and the "lily fthe field." A few rods down he stream is a grove of ak trees of immense girth. hese shade the grave of an Arab sheik, and are hung ith rags- the offerings of ilgrims. Upon a portion of he hill once stood the city of Dan. A search amidst the Beighboring jungle of grasss, shrubs, and scrubs will eward the explorer with a ight of the broken-down alls of the old-time town nd disclose some of the lébris of its once splendid tructures. Mount Hermon's nowy range is in full view, en strange contrast with the urrounding loveliness of the well-cultivated arms of Bashan which form the plain. From his plain rises the hill of Dan. Bursting forth from the rocks, the water umbles down the hill and then forms the fountain," or lake. From this it hurries on southward, and is known as the Leddân until, our miles below, it joins a stream coming from Banias, which we are yet to visit. A mile farther on, these two are joined by the Hasbany, the largest of the three Jordan tributaries; then, together, they plunge through the marshes and "waters of Merom " to Lake Hûleh. Thus the upper Jordan is created. Four miles from Dan is Cæsarea Philippi. After the oaks of Bashan are left, the path winds towards the north-east. As we approach the city, the varying landscape presents some lovely views. A broad terrace is now seen, cut in the side of the mountain by some strange forces of Nature. Upon its rocky floor is located Banias,-the Paneas of old,- the Cæsarea Philippi of our Saviour's day, and the northernmost limit of his wanderings. The terrace is bounded by two deep, uninviting ravines, one on the north and the other on the BRIDGE OVER THE HASBANY. south. Between these, and beyond the city, rises an isolated peak a thousand feet high, crowned by the magnificent ruins of the castle of Subeibeh. By whom this wondrous pile was erected, no one can tell. It is attributed to the Crusaders, but there is evidence that the Phenicians erected at least a part. From the yawning, fractured mouth of a cave which covers a fathomless pit the waters gush with tremendous power and roar down the ravine through a portion of the city, supplying a magnificent, but almost unused, mill-power. |