Domestic Life in Palestine/Chapter 9

by Mary Eliza Rogers



 

Layout 2

CHAPTER IX.

FROM HÂIFA TO ARRABEH.

After a few hours of perfect rest, I rose before the sun, on Monday, the 25th of February. Katrîne, who had begged to accompany us, had packed up her bundle of clothes, and was rejoicing at the thought of spending the Festival of Easter at Jerusalem, for she was an earnest devotee. She had newly dressed her eyes with kohl for the occasion. I told her of the difficulties of the journey. She assured me that she had no fear, for she had made a pilgrimage to the Chapel of the Madonna on Mount Carmel, and wore round her neck a potent charm, which she had obtained there, believing it would preserve her from all danger.

It was a scapulary, that is, a rudely-printed picture of the Virgin and Child, on a piece of linen, one or two inches square, said to be a portion of the smock which the blessed Virgin left on Mount Carmel when she graciously appeared in a vision to one of the monks of old. This smock must have been a very large one, for it furnishes an unlimited number of scapularies, which are sold by thousands to pilgrims from all parts of Europe. All the native Christians of Hâifa wear them, and most of the Europeans do also. I only know two or three exceptions. Some scapularies are enshrined in crystal lockets, or adorned with spangles and beads. Others are simply bound or lined with silk, or embroidered at the edges. Once, when I was ill, poor Katrîne put one secretly round my neck while I slept; and now, in preparation for the journey, she tried to induce me to avail myself of its protection.

The court was crowded with well-wishers, who came to say, "God be with you," and to express their regrets at our departure. The general impression was, that we were going on a perilous expedition. Town Arabs, especially the Christians, are generally rather timid, and being somewhat deliberate in their movements, they were wondering at the rapidity of ours. All articles of value were deposited at the French Consulate, the perishable stores were distributed, and very soon after sunrise we were mounted and ready to start. A guide, fully armed, furnished by our governor, with our kawass, Hadj Dervish, led the way. I followed, with my brother, and the French Consul's Arab secretary, who had begged to join us. Then came the muleteer, with the luggage and canteen, Mohammed, our Egyptian groom, Katrîne, shrouded in a large camel's-hair cloak and mounted on horseback, and the tall African messenger on foot. We had advised him to rest a day or two at Hâifa, but he declared that he was not tired, and he said that riding would be more fatiguing to him than walking, for he was not accustomed to it.

When we had taken leave of our friends at the gate of the town, and had passed the Moslem cemetery, Katrîne had disappeared. On inquiry, I heard that, in spite of her scapulary, her courage had failed her, and she had turned back, saying to the groom, that she thought it would rain, so she would go home again! Our agent, who was riding with us a short distance on our way—receiving final instructions—undertook to protect her during our absence.

The hills around were capped with black clouds, and before we had passed the gardens of Hâifa a heavy shower commenced. We drew our hooded cloaks over our heads, and rode on regardless of it. When we reached the rocky spring of Sa'âdeh, the rain-clouds suddenly traveled away in all directions, leaving a bright bit of deep-blue sky just above us; but on the mountains and over the sea the rain still fell—dark heavy curtains seemed to be hanging from the heavens, and they were torn and swayed by the changeful breezes. The spring among the rocks and reeds had considerably increased in force and extent since I had seen it in December. We crossed it cautiously and in safety. Many a tree had been torn up by the roots by the Winter torrents. Large stone bowlders, which a short time before were firmly imbedded in the earth, had been undermined, and stood tottering on the hill-side, as if ready to fall on us. The rain-refreshed grass and trees and flowers glistened in the gleams of sunlight, and filled the air with sweet odors.

We left the Nazareth road and took a south-easterly direction, along the borders of the almost dry bed of a branch of the Kishon. We entered the "Wady-el-Milh," the Valley of Salt. Among other wild flowers on the way side, I recognized with strange delight patches of "crimson tipped" daisies. It was midday. We were beginning to feel hungry, and told the guide to pause at the nearest spring, that we might alight and eat. We met a few camels grazing on mallows and clover. They were branded with marks which told us that they did not belong to the peasantry. "These camels proclaim that Bedouins are in the neighborhood. We will seek them out, and take our dinner with them to-day, for wherever we find them, we shall also find a fountain of good water," said my brother. When we had rounded the next hill, we saw a number of square black tents, high up among the rocks and trees on the opposite side of the valley. We crossed the deep and stony river-bed, and scrambled up the pathless hill side, over the rocks and tangled brushwood. A group of Bedouins, in their large, heavy, white and brown cloaks, and red and yellow fringed shawl head -dresses, came leaping down to meet us, and to guide and welcome us to their encampment, in the midst of which we dismounted. There were fifteen tents altogether. We were led toward the sheikh's tent, which, like all the rest, was formed of very coarse black and brown "curtains of goats' hair,"^[1] supported by slender trunks of trees and strong reeds from the banks of the Jordan. A rude palisading, of interwoven branches, divided the tent into two parts. In the lesser compartment some kids and lambs were guarded, and a group of women hastily retired from the other part, that it might be prepared for us. A little, half-naked, bronzed Bedouin boy swept the floor of earth with the leafy branches of a "box" tree. A weather-beaten old woman, in tattered garments, but with large silver bracelets on her shriveled arms, came forward and spread a rug or carpet for us. It was made of very coarse wool, and looked something like crochet-work, or close knitting, and was evidently of Bedouin manufacture. We were soon seated on it, and the sheikh and a number of men, smoking long pipes, took their seats opposite to us, in a half-circle, on the ground just outside the open front of the tent, thus completely inclosing us. There were between sixty and seventy people altogether in the encampment. They had large flocks of sheep and goats under their care; and, as we anticipated, they were near to a "fountain of sweet water."

The sheikh wished to have a kid killed for us. We declined, as we were in haste; but though we were provided with bread, my brother explained to me that etiquette obliged us to partake of theirs, and he said, "Go and find the women, it will be a good opportunity for you to see the process of Bedouin bread-making." I went to the other end of the encampment—the glow of a red fire between the trees guided me. Two women were skillfully stirring and spreading burning embers on the ground with their hands, as freely as if fire had no power to hurt them. Another was kneading some paste. The rest of the women and girls came crowding round me caressingly and wonderingly. They stroked my face and hair, and especially marveled at my closely-fitting kid gloves, which I put off and on for their amusement. They exclaimed repeatedly, "O, work of God!" One of the elder women said, "Where are you going, O my daughter?" I answered, "O my mother, I am going to 'El Kuds' The Holy'"—that is, Jerusalem. Then she said, as if by way of explanation to the others, "They are pilgrims. God preserve them!" The women were all of a dark-bronze color. Their faces, and arms, and necks were tattooed and stained with henna, red and orange color. Their rather thick but well-shaped lips were perfectly blue, indigo having been carefully pricked into them in little spots close together; it produced a very unpleasing effect. The edges of their eyelids were blackened with soot. Their only garments were wide, loose, coarse cotton shirts, open at the bosom; some were black, others blue and brown. Over their heads black woolen shawls, edged with bright-colored stripes, were tastefully and simply worn. Many of the women were decked with clumsily-wrought silver bracelets and finger and ear-rings. None of them wore shoes. The dirty, tawny children were all nearly naked; but their heads were covered with white quilted skull-caps or red tarbûshes, to which shells and beads were fastened—amulets to protect the wearers from harm.

A young mother, more intelligent-looking than her companions, came forward and saluted me gently. She, unlike the rest, wore a crimson shawl on her head, and the edges of her long blue shirt were embroidered round the sleeves and round the neck and bosom with coarse thread, wrought in quaint patterns, such as we see on very old-fashioned samplers in cross-stitch. She proudly showed me her little swaddled son. The complexion of his face was surprisingly fair; in fact, it was of a deathly whiteness. This, I was told, is usually the case in infancy among the Bedouins. I took the unyielding, stiffened, mummy-like little figure in my arms. His swaddling clothes were of coarse indigo-colored cotton, bound round symmetrically with narrow strips of crimson leather, such as I had seen entwined about the Bedouin spears. The mother evidently had considerable taste in the arts of adornment, and in every respect she was superior-looking to the rest. In the mean time the bread was being made. A brisk wood-fire was kindled in the open air, on a small circular hearth, formed of smooth round pebbles, spread evenly and close together. When this primitive hearth was sufficiently heated, the embers were carefully removed, and well-kneaded paste, flattened out by the hand, was thrown on to the hot stones, and quickly covered with the burning ashes. In this way several large cakes of unleavened bread were soon made ready.

I returned to the tent. Our canteen and provisions had been unpacked, much to the amusement of the men, who were especially pleased with the knives, and forks, and spoons. Wooden bowls of cream and milk were brought, and the flat cakes of bread were served quite hot. They were about half an inch in thickness, and had received the impression of the pebbles of which the hearth was composed. This most likely was the same sort of bread which Sarah of old made for the strangers, in obedience to Abraham 's desire, when he said, "Make ready quickly three measures of fine meal, knead it, and make cakes upon the hearth."

The women stood in a group at a little distance looking on while we cut up our cold roast chicken. They had never seen people eat with knives and forks before. It must have appeared very barbarous to them. They laughed shyly, and hid their faces with the ends of their shawl head-dresses when they were noticed, and suddenly they disappeared altogether, as if in obedience to a given signal. I made a sketch of Kasîm, the hạndsomest and most stately-looking of the men. He blushed like a girl when he saw his face in my book. He expressed great curiosity about our intended movements, and was very communicative. The other men asked no questions—neither did they seem willing to answer any, except in the usual words "Yâllem Allah"—"God knows."

After a final cup of coffee had been passed round we remounted, and went on our way at about two o' clock, riding over hills covered with wild thyme, and through valleys where grain sown by the Bedouins was springing up; but it was thirsting for rain. We rose high on to the Carmel range, overlooking the plain of Esdraelon, and sometimes catching glimpses of the great sea on our right. We rode for a considerable distance without seeing any towns, or villages, or even tents, or the slightest indication of a road or track; so that I could fancy that I was traveling in an uninhabited country, except when we saw a long string of camels laden with charcoal, or a line of donkeys carrying such large burdens of thorns and brush wood that they looked just like hedges moving briskly along. They were evidently conveying fuel from a well wooded district to towns and villages in the treeless plains. We were in a part of Palestine rarely, if ever, trodden by strangers, where the peculiarities of Eastern traveling are more apparent than in the more frequented roads. We discovered that our guide, who had been directed to conduct us toward Arrabeh, had misled us, and was taking us by a circuitous and unmarked route in order to avoid passing near to certain villages, where his life would have been in danger, for a price was set upon his head by his enemies in that district. He led us into the fertile plains west of the Carmel range.

Rain began to fall in torrents. Mohammed, our groom, threw a large Arab cloak over me, saying, "May Allah preserve you, O lady, while he is blessing the fields." Thus pleasantly reminded, I could no longer feel sorry to see the pouring rain, but rode on rejoicing for the sake of the sweet Spring flowers and the broad fields of wheat and barley.

For two or three hours we had not seen a building of any kind, not even a ruined khan in a valley, nor a watchtower on the hill-sides. At last we passed a small walled town, built on a low rounded hill, the eastern slope of which was dotted with white grave-stones. Olive-trees, fruit gardens, and plowed land encircled it. In a quarter of an hour we came to a little village, where the rude dwellings were crowded closely together, as if for safety, and flocks and herds fed in the neighborhood, guarded by shepherds fully armed. The rain ceased, and the sun shone out for a few minutes, with a red glow, over a waving field of wheat, and then went down. We desired the guide to halt at the next village. We rode on southward, and in about twenty minutes reached a place called "Khubeizeh," on account of the abundance of mallows growing wild in the neighborhood. A barricade of mud surrounded the village. The houses were so low that even I could not have stood upright in any one of them. Some were merely hollow cones of earth, others were square and roofed with brushwood. Some were like burrows, scarcely above the ground, and all were desperately dirty. The narrow streets, or paths between the houses, were mud and slime and standing water. The wretched-looking inhabitants followed us about or peeped at us from their miserable abodes, and a troop of dogs barked in loud chorus as we traversed the village in all directions. We found no spot suitable for a halting-place, so we hastened onward and soon arrived at Mehâf, a crowded hamlet, quite as uninviting as Khubeizeh.

The guide assured us that we should find safe shelter at Kefr Kâra, a Moslem village about three miles further south. No Christians inhabit any of the villages in this district. We decided to go on, although it was already very dark. Red, blinking watchfires could be seen here and there on the hills around, and rain began to fall as we rode across the plain as quickly as the darkness would let us. We sent our kawass on before, to announce our approach to the sheikh of Kefr Kâra. When we arrived he was at the entrance of the village, attended by a lantern bearer, ready to receive us, and he said, "Welcome, and be at rest, we are your servants, all that we have is yours."

We found Kefr Kâra larger and rather superior to the other villages. There was only one stone house in it, however, and to that we were immediately conducted. We gladly dismounted at the open door, within which we could see the glow and smoke of a large wood fire. I found that the house consisted of only one very lofty room, about eighteen feet square. The roof of heavy beams and tree branches, blackened with smoke, was supported by two wide-spreading arches. The walls were of roughly-hewn blocks of stone, not plastered in any way. Just within the door, a donkey and a yoke of oxen stood. I soon perceived that rather more than one-third of the room was set apart for cattle, where the floor, which was on a level with the street, was of earth, and partly strewed with fodder. We were led up two stone steps on to a dais, twenty-two inches high, where fragments of old mats and carpets were spread, and where three venerable-looking old men—one of whom was quite blind—sat smoking. They rose and welcomed us, and then resumed their pipes in silence. They wore large white turbans and dark robes. Their long beards were bushy and gray. Their feet were naked, for they had left their red shoes by the steps leading on to the dais. The sheikh took down some mats and cushions from a recess in the wall, and arranged them for us on the floor. In the mean time, the mule was led in and unladen, and our two horses were unsaddled and lodged in the lower part of the room! The sheikh asked us to allow his oxen to remain there, as it was likely to be a wet night. My brother consented, but desired that no others should be brought in, and that shelter should be found elsewhere for the horses of our servants and attendants. Nearly in the middle of the raised floor, the large fire made of piled-up wood and thorns, and resinous evergreen shrubs, was burning briskly. The deep troughs, or mangers, about three feet by one, were hollowed out of the broad stone coping at the edge of the dais. Mohammed, our groom, filled these troughs with barley, and our tired animals enjoyed their evening meal.

While our supper was in course of preparation, the sheikh, at my request, took me to see his wives. He led me out into the darkness. A little lantern, which he carried, partially lighted the muddy streets, and was reflected in many a pool of standing water. My guide paused in front of an irregular building of mud and stone, and, with out saying a word by way of introduction, left me alone at the threshold of the wide-open door. Just within it I saw a group of harsh-voiced, loudly-talking women standing in front of an immense wood fire, which was burning on a raised floor, about three feet high. They were evidently entertaining another group of women, who sat on the dais round the fire, silently and eagerly listening. The leaping flames lighted up their large dark eyes, their long glistening teeth, and the silver coins of their head-dresses. I stood for a moment watching them, before I claimed their attention. There was no outlet for the smoke, except a hole over the door; so it was rather difficult, at first, to distinguish the shape of the room. There were curiously irregular projections, and niches, and recesses, where mattresses were piled up, and jars and cooking utensils were arranged. The walls were of baked mud or clay, blackened with smoke.

When I announced myself, some of the young girls uttered exclamations of wonder and fear, imagining me to be a spirit; but the elder women silenced them, and welcomed me calmly and kindly, without showing any signs of surprise, though I was afterward assured that I was the first Afranjî—that is, European—lady who had ever paid a visit to Kefr Kâra.

The women who stood below lifted me on to the dais, the roof over which was so low that I could only just stand upright. I sat down with the group round the fire, and took off my hat and hooded cloak, and one of the women undertook to dry them. They were all exceedingly astonished that I only kept my head covered when out of doors—heads are never uncovered in the East, except as a sign of deep mourning. The women were dark, dirty, and rather haggard-looking, but dignified in their manners and movements. The girls were strong and handsome, but their well-shaped mouths and lower jaws were disproportionately large. They all wore head-dresses of silver coins, like the women of Nazareth, with the addition of three or seven chains of silver links and coins, hanging from the end of the head-dress on each side, in the same way that unfastened bonnet-strings hang. Their dresses were of dark indigo-colored cotton, very thick and coarse, open at the front, like loose pelisses, girdled and worn over white shirts and dark cotton trowsers. Their arms and faces were tattooed with spots and stars, their eyebrows were blackened with a thick pigment, and their eyelids stained with soot. Many of them wore silver bracelets. The ragged and half naked tawny children were agile and rapid in their movements, observant, and mischievous. The young girls were soon satisfied that I was not a spirit, and they decame very demonstrative and caressing, and were full of curiosity. One of them took a flaming brand from the fire, and held it near to my face, that she and the rest might see me more plainly. A very old woman, who seemed to have authority over them, rebuked them, saying, "Be silent, О foolish ones! if the stranger had a hundred tongues she could not answer all your questions; and do you not see that the poor child is tired? Let her rest in peace." Then they made coffee for me; and while I was taking it, a boy, better dressed than the others, came bounding in, exclaiming, "Where is the white lady? The Afranjî will not eat till she comes." So I rose and followed him into the street, where the sheikh awaited me with the lantern.

I returned to the house. My brother had caused the wood fire to be removed, for the smoke almost suffocated us. A small red-clay lamp stood in a niche in the wall, and the lantern was placed in a recess near to the door. Our supper of grilled chickens, hot bread, and sweet cream, was spread for us on the floor of the dais. At the same time a large wooden bowl of dried peas boiled in oil, and a dish of lebbany, or sour milk, and cakes of bread, were brought for our attendants and servants, who were grouped together with the horses in the lower part of the room. After we had eaten, a number of the villagers came to see us. They all smoked their pipes, and drank their coffee, almost in silence, with the exception of the old blind man, who asked many questions. He, as if privileged by his blindness, begged me to put my hand in his, and then told me to tell him what I was like, that he might see me in his thoughts. He said, "Are you young, or are you old? Your voice is soft, like the voice of a little child; but your words are wise."

By degrees our silent guests left us. Last of all, the gentle old blind man, led by the sheikh, went away, wishing us rest and peace. The latter promised that he would send us some pillows and mattresses to sleep on. No women had visited us.

Just as we were wondering what sort of bedding we should have that night, to my great surprise and delight, the Arab-Jewish upholsterer, who had worked for me at Hâifa, made his appearance, carrying a nice new mattress, quilt, and red-silk pillow. He was a peddler upholsterer, but his head-quarters were at Hâifa. He had been engaged at Kefr Kâra making a stock of lehaffs and mattresses for an approaching wedding. As soon as he heard of my arrival, he insisted on bringing one of the new mattresses for me. He spread it in a corner of the dais. Then he brought another for my brother, and a third for the French Consul's secretary, and did all that he could to make us comfortable.

I was so tired, that I was glad to lie down directly, on the sheetless mattress, resting my head on the red-silk pillow. I covered my face with a handkerchief, and tried to forget where I was; remaining resolutely still, notwithstanding the attacks of a multitude of fleas. I had often encountered large assemblies of these lively little tormentors, but their numbers were as nothing in comparison with the fleas of Kefr Kâra.

A large cat, walking gently and cautiously over my head, startled me out of a dreamy and restless sleep. I roused myself and looked about. It was midnight. The lamp was still burning, and by its dim light I could make out the strange groups around. The first object upon which my eyes fell was the tall African messenger. He was on the opposite side of the dais, standing upright, leaning his back against the wall. His arms were folded, his eyes were wide open and staring. He looked immovable as a statue. His white turban, and the shining light of his eyes, made his head appear the most conspicuous object in the room. My brother was soundly sleeping on a mattress not far from me, and beyond him the Arab secretary, quite concealed under heavy quilts, was loudly snoring. The armed guide and our kawass, rolled up in their cloaks and carpets, were lying on the edge of the dais, their saddle-bags and saddle-cloths serving as pillows. The muleteer, resting on the luggage, and our groom, Mohammed, on a heap of fodder, were just below, with the tethered horses. The air of the room was heated and oppressive, and dense with tobacco smoke. There was no window, but over the closed door there were five small round holes. There were two deep, arched recesses in the walls for mattresses, cushions, and jars. In a recess in the lower part of the room the saddles and horse-trappings of our little party were piled up. In the stone wall, close to my resting-place, was the trap-door of a corn granary. I could hear rats and mice within, nibbling and scratching, and the gray cat again and again returned to post herself on my pillow. I sat up. My horse started out of his sleep, neighed and shook himself—walking as far as his halter would let him, disturbing the repose of all the rest, and especially of the donkey.

The groom rose, trimmed the lamp, spoke a few comforting words to his favorite horse, then rolled himself up in his camel’s-hair cloak, and crouched down on the heap of fodder. In a little while there was silence and sleep all around again. But I was sleepless. The mysterious-looking figure of the black man completely fascinated me; I could not long together keep my eyes turned away from him; he did not move a muscle or blink his great shining eyes. I could not decide whether he was asleep or awake, though I looked at him till I was almost mesmerized. I rested my head on my pillow, full of thought. Suddenly the idea entered my mind that it must have been in such a house as this that Christ was born, and in a manger, such as I saw before me, that he was cradled. It was Winter-time when, in obedience to the decree of Cæsar Augustus, Joseph the carpenter, of the house and lineage of David, went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, to be taxed or enrolled with Mary, his espoused wife.

I imagined Joseph anxiously seeking shelter and rest for her after her long journey. All the guest-chambers were already filled, and there was no room in the inn—that is, there was no room for them in the "house of rest for wayfarers"—"the place of unlading." The raised floor was crowded with strangers, who had, like them, come to be taxed. But Joseph and Mary may have taken refuge from the cold in the lower part of the room. In imagination I could see them, half-hidden by the cattle, and warmed by the blazing fire of wood and crackling thorns burning on the raised floor close by. "And so it was, that while they were there the days were accomplished that she should be delivered; and she brought forth her first-born Son, and wrapped him in swaddling-clothes, and laid him in a manger." The manger was very likely close by her side, hollowed out at the edge of the dais, and filled with soft Winter fodder. I raised my head and looked at one of the mangers, and I felt how natural it was to use it as a cradle for a newly-born infant. Its size, its shape, its soft bed of fodder, its nearness to the warm fire, always burning on the dais in mid-winter, would immediately suggest the idea to an Eastern mother. I fell asleep, picturing to myself the whole scene—"the babe, wrapped in swaddling-clothes," "lying in a manger," Joseph and Mary joyfully watching over him, and the strangers and shepherds pronouncing blessings and congratulations.

When I awoke in the early morning, the level rays of the sun were streaming in at the wide-open door. The black man had gone. The Vice-Consul was sitting up on his mattress, performing his toilet under difficulties—his kawass acting as valet. The dragoman beyond was shaking the long purple silk tassel of his red tarbûsh into shape. The horses and other animals had been led away; and crowds of people stood at the door looking in. I kept quietly concealed under my quilt till my brother and all the men had disappeared; then some women came, bringing water to pour over my hands. At my request they closed the door, and the five round holes above it admitted daylight and a number of silvery-winged doves. They came one after the other, fluttered once round the room near to the rafters, and then flew away again in regular order. The women were exceedingly interested with the contents of my dressing-case, and wished to make experiments with them, but to this I decidedly objected. They had never heard of such a thing as a tooth-brush; yet their teeth—which reminded me of the teeth of wild animals, especially of the feline race—were as bright, regular, and healthy-looking as possible. Perhaps one of the causes of this is, that they invariably wash and cleanse their mouths thoroughly immediately after every meal.^[2] Almost all Orientals adopt this excellent custom; but by the Moslems it is regarded as a religious and obligatory ceremony, and the act is accompanied by an ejaculatory prayer for purity. I had necessarily slept in my clothes. I shook myself into order as well as I could, and resumed my riding-habit, while the women rolled up the mattresses and lehaffs, and carried them away. Then I was led to the house which I had visited on the previous evening. The hostess wore a striped silk red and purple pelisse, or open dress, instead of the cotton one in which I had seen her before. She received me very cordially, and would not allow any intruders to enter, while I had some new milk, bread, and coffee, and made notes of my night-thoughts. It was rumored that the manuscript book which I carried contained talismanic directions for seeking treasures. It had a patent lock and key, and a book thus guarded had never before been seen there.

In the mean time, my brother was breakfasting with the sheikh elsewhere, gleaning valuable information, and planning the day's journey. We afterward met in the large room—of which I made a rough sketch and measurements. It had been swept, and the dais was garnished with reed matting and cushions, and two old fringed carpets, about the size of ordinary hearth-rugs. We sat down together, and consulted our maps—Robinson's and a French one. As regarded that district, they proved very contradictory, and did not assist us much.^[3]

At eight o 'clock, our horses and attendants were ready. We mounted, and rode slowly. We were surrounded and followed by a great number of the villagers. The sheikh was in earnest conversation with my brother. The old blind man walked by my side, with his hand resting on the neck of my horse, which was carefully led by the wandering Jew upholsterer along the uneven and crooked streets. We paused when we came to the thrashing-floor, outside the village, and there took leave of our Kefr Kâra friends.

The blind man pressed my hand to his lips and to his forehead, saying, "May Allah preserve you, O my daughter, and keep you from all harm!" With blessings and pleasant words ringing in our ears, we cantered quickly over a broad cultivated plain, across a stony river-bed, and then rose on to a range of hills, dark with evergreen oaks, and carpeted with wild flowers. We rode eastward, overlooking plains and valleys. The black man was still with us. I was informed that he was an inveterate opium-eater, and always slept in a standing or sitting posture, with his eyes wide open.

In half an hour, we came to a little, crowded, mud and stone village, at the edge of a wood. Here we dismissed our guide, for we could not depend upon him. He had enemies in the district, and traveled in fear. We alighted. A carpet was spread for us on a grassy and shady slope, just above a thrashing-floor, and there we took pipes and coffee with the sheikh. The elders and chief men of the village, in their great camel's-hair cloaks and white turbans, sat on the ground in a half circle opposite to us. They were fully armed. After the usual greetings and compliments, they eagerly asked for "khubber," that is, news, saying, "Whence do you come, O my lord, and what tidings do you bring?" They were all very active and energetic-looking, communicative, and inquiring. They differed in these respects from the Bedouins we had met in the Valley of Salt, and from the villagers of Kefr Kâra.

I asked my brother how this striking contrast could be accounted for. He said, "This valley is in a very lonely, unprotected, and fertile spot. It is on the confines of the Jebel Nablûs, a district which is very frequently disturbed, as at present, by civil war. The inhabitants are obliged to be constantly on the alert, and prepared for any emergency. This, perhaps, gives them that look of activity and intelligence which is common to all people who are habitually exposed to great dangers, and who energetically but cautiously prepare to meet them." An animated exchange of news took place. The young men and boys stood in little groups around, while the elders smoked and talked by turns.

Just beyond the village, there were some ragged black hair tents among the trees. They belonged to a party of gipsy tinkers and blacksmiths, who journey from village to village, just as their brethren do in the lonely parts of England; committing depredations in the farm-yards, and sometimes breaking into houses. These gipsies came out of their tents to look at us. Their complexions were very dark. The men had rather a sullen and stern expression of countenance, and were clothed in sackcloth, girdled with leather straps. Black shawls were fastened on their heads with ropes made of camel's-hair, in Bedouin style. The women and girls seemed hardy, bold, and daring, but good-natured. Their features were strongly marked. They approached and examined me with curiosity, and expressed surprise that I traveled without any female attendants. In their greetings I observed that they did not utter the name of Allah, though it is generally the first word on the lips of an Arab woman. The women wore long, heavy, dark, ungirdled shirts, made of coarse wool—not unlike the shapeless gowns provided for female bathers at English watering-places. They had no other garment, except a shawl or kerchief tied over their heads, from under which their straggling unbraided black hair escaped. Broad silver armlets adorned their tattooed arms, and clumsy cabalistic rings were displayed on some of the swarthy hands, to protect the wearers from harm.

The boys were naked, or nearly so. They tried to attract my notice by vigorously turning summersaults, walking on their heads, and suspending themselves from high tree branches by their pliant feet.

These gipsies, besides attending to their tinkering, perform most astounding feats of jugglery, gymnastics, and magic. When they visit towns or large villages, they are gladly engaged by the inhabitants to tell fortunes, interpret dreams and dark sayings, and to give entertainments in private houses or in the market-places.

I have several times seen companies of this mysterious race of people in Hâifa, and have witnessed their exhibitions of necromancy, or rather sleight-of-hand, by torchlight in the open air. Among other performances, they call a boy out of the midst of the crowd. Then, to all appearance, they cut him into six pieces! After a few minutes of intense excitement and suspense of the lookers-on, the separated portions of the body are reunited, and the restored boy jumps up and runs away. The Arabs generally, and especially of the lower classes, firmly believe in the occult power of the gipsies. They are hated and feared, yet patronized and encouraged to a remarkable degree. These people speak Arabic, but they also have a language peculiar to themselves. The late learned Dr. Duff told us that the language of the gipsies in India, of which he had made a vocabulary, was somewhat similar to it, and many words were identical. These people are very mischievous, and when they are in the neighborhood, it is necessary to look well after the fowls, lambs, and kids, and to set a double watch in the orchards and vineyards, and the gardens of cucumbers.

The village sheikh provided us with a guide to conduct us to Arrabeh, and we remounted. The gipsy women could not understand how I could ride with both my feet on the same side of the horse. They said, "The hills round about Arrabeh are very steep, my lady; you will fall from your horse if you sit like that."

We rode for a short distance southward, with the Great Sea now and then visible on our right hand. Then we turned abruptly eastward, and pursued our way for about two miles in single file, in a narrow path, under the shade of trees. The glossy-leaved evergreen oak and the hawthorn were the most conspicuous. Cyclamen, ferns, mazereons, mosses, and lichens grew on and round the rocks in the deep shade; while here and there in sunny glades wide-open ranunculi, anemones, dandelions, and daisies appeared. Some of the tree branches were covered with gall-berries. We lingered to examine the ruins of an ancient town, of which no tradition even is left. There were large beveled blocks of stone foundations of walls, small tesseræ, and other traces of human art, extending for about half a mile along the hill-side. We did not see any sculptures or inscriptions. Our guide could not tell us any thing about the place. He said it was called "El Khirbeh," "The Ruin." A shepherd whom we saw seated on the edge or parapet of an ancient cistern gave us the same unsatisfactory answer. We descended into a broad plain, where thorns and thistles flourished. Lilies of the valley, the first I had seen, and a great variety of the orchis tribe grew among them. The gnat and bee orchis were beautifully developed. Hundreds of tiny birds were disturbed by our approach, and flew out of their nests in the low bushes, chirruping and singing. We gathered wild thyme, and gladly ate it with the bread which we had brought from Hâifa, for the morning air had sharpened our appetites. Lizards ran over the white rocks, and a hare now and then darted across our path.

As we rode onward my brother carefully explained to me the difficulties attending the government of the Jebel Nablûs district, which we were then approaching. He said, "The town of Nablûs, the seat of government, contains about twelve thousand inhabitants. Of these only three hundred are Christians, fifty are Jews, and nearly two hundred are Samaritans. The rest are Moslems of the most fierce and fanatical class.

"In the surrounding mountains there are four great factions always at enmity with each other. They are, first, the Abdul Hady family, whose head-quarters are at Arrabeh; and, second, the Jerrars, who possess a fortress at Senûr. They each sprang from the peasantry, and have a large number of followers in almost every village in the district. Third. The Tokan tribe, which has great influence among kindred tribes in the eastern desert. Fourth. The Rayan, who are of Bedouin origin, and very powerful; they congregate west of Nablûs. From one of these great rival factions, the governor of Nablûs is generally chosen, and duly appointed by the Pasha of Jerusalem. "When a governor, for some offense, or through inability to satisfy the rapacity of the effendis, and other followers of the pasha, is put out of office, some member of a rival faction immediately repairs to head-quarters. With large sums of money, and presents, he buys the good-will of the pasha's secretaries and chief councilors, and through their mediation and influence succeeds to the governorship. As soon as he is installed in office he uses all means in his power, just or unjust, to recover with interest the money which he had dispensed in bribes. He levies impositions on the poor and unprotected, and plunders with impunity all who dare not or can not resist his power. It devolves upon him to appoint the sheikhs of all the villages in the district. Those who were already in office under his predecessor are allowed to remain if they make sufficient and appropriate presents to him at the time of his accession. If they neglect to do this the offices are given to those who make larger offers.

"This state of affairs has lasted for many years, and in the year 1851 five hundred people were killed and as many wounded in a conflict between these rival factions. The consequence was that a decree was made that none of either family should ever again fill any important office in Jebel Nablûs. But," continued my brother, "this decree has been disregarded, and the Abdul Hady family has succeeded in ingratiating itself with the Government; Mahmoud Bek Abdul Hady is chief Governor of Nablûs; his cousin, Saleh Bek—whose brother, Mohammed Bek, reigns at Arrabeh, the stronghold of the family—is Governor of Hâifa. On account of the present rebellion of the people against Mahmoud Bek, the chief Governor, Kamîl Pasha has encamped at Nablûs with a large body of cavalry, but he is in great difficulty. He is surrounded by intriguing councilors, who do not scruple to take bribes, and bind themselves to factions. My mission just now is simply to watch carefully, and report to Mr. Finn all that is going on, and to find out, if possible, the real position of affairs, without interfering or taking any part in them. In this you may be able to help me a little by quietly observing the state of the towns; for we shall probably be apart from each other in Arrabeh and Senûr. The fact of your being my fellow-traveler will perhaps induce people to receive us into their strongholds the more readily and unsuspectingly."

Thus informed, I felt a greatly-increased interest in the expedition. We were still riding in the plain, but thorns and thistles had given place to fields of wheat and barley, and plowed land. The sun was shining overhead, but rain was falling on the terraced hills before us, where olive-groves and blossoming fruit-trees flourished. As we approached them we felt the heavy drops, and were soon in the midst of a shower. We rode quickly through it, and descended into a narrow valley, at the end of which, on a rocky hill, brightened by a gleam of sunshine, we could see the town of Arrabeh, with its embattled walls and towers. After a very difficult ascent over smooth slabs of rock and loose stones, like a steep and irregular stairway, we reached Arrabeh. It was past mid-day, and rain poured down in torrents as we entered its great iron bound, well-guarded gates. This is one of the best-walled towns in Palestine, but is almost unknown to travelers, being out of the usual route. It is not even mentioned in Murray's Hand-Book, but is marked on his map.

The houses all looked like small castles; they are square, and with parapets round their flat, terraced roofs. We went direct to the residence of Mohammed Bek Abdul Hady, the Governor of the town. His house, like all Moslem town-houses, was divided into two distinct parts; the men occupying one part, called the divan, and the ladies living in the other, which is called the harem. The ground-floor was occupied by horses and soldiers, and there our attendants and servants were lodged. We mounted an uncovered stone staircase, crossed a large court-yard, and entered the divan—a vaulted chamber, with wide, arched windows on three sides, commanding views of the valley and the town-gate. The deep, low window-seats were cushioned and carpeted. Here no ladies ever appear; I was told afterward that I was the only woman who had ever crossed its threshold. We found that the Governor himself was absent, but we were very courteously received by his relations; and they said, kissing our hands, "This house is your house, and we are at your service." They expressed great surprise to see us on a journey while the country was so disturbed. They said that every day there were skirmishes in the neighborhood, and at least one hundred and fifty people had been killed within a few days. Flocks were stolen, and camels were constantly waylaid and robbed of their burdens. A battle had been fought on the previous day, near to Arrabeh, and many lives were sacrificed. The sons and nephews of the Governor told us about it. They were engaged in the fight. One boy of about sixteen years of age showed us how he threw himself on the ground and pretended to be dead, and thus escaped a death-blow. He exhibited his spear stained with blood, and his pistols, of which he was very proud. They were of English manufacture.

The younger sons, about ten and eleven years of age, were told to conduct me to the harem. They carefully led me over terraced roofs, through courts, and halls, and passages, till we reached the female quarter. I was taken to a large vaulted room, with whitewashed walls and stone floors, lighted only from the wide-open door; for, as glass casements are not used, the wooden window-shutters were closed to keep out the rain. My young guides, Selim and Saïd, ran before me, and cried out exultingly, "An English girl! an English girl! come! see!" I entered, and in a moment was surrounded by a little crowd of women, dressed in very brilliant costumes. They were of various complexions—from the dark Abyssinian slave-girls in crimson and silver, to the olive and bronze-colored Arabs in violet and gold. They pounced upon me as if I were a new toy for them; they kissed me one after the other, and stroked my face. They had never seen a European, and told me that no daughter of the Franks had ever entered their town before. They said, "Be welcome, O sister from a far country; this house is yours, and we are your servants." Then they asked me with whom, and how, and whence I had come. The ladies wore full, long trowsers, made of colored silk; short, tight jackets, made of cloth or velvet, embroidered with gold; and flowers and jewels in their head-dresses. The servants wore cotton suits, and the slaves red cloth. They wondered to see my plain, long, dark riding-dress and hat. I told them that I wished to change my clothes, as they were wet.

The boys went to order my portmanteau to be brought to the precincts of the harem, and then two slaves fetched it. As soon as I had unlocked it, the ladies, servants, and children, one and all, began examining its contents. In a minute or two it was actually almost empty. Mantles, morning and evening dresses, night-gowns, and collars were passing from hand to hand; and, as the uses of them were not known, they were put on in all sorts of fantastic ways. One of the girls took a little lace-collar, and placed it tastefully on her forehead. She thought that it was part of a head-dress. I was very much amused, but was obliged to put a stop to their mischief by telling them to put every thing back into the box; they did so directly. I had already discovered that Arab women are like children; they almost always submit immediately to gentle but unhesitating firmness.

Then I dressed in the same room; for they said that they had not any other for their use. I fancy it was because they wished to see all my clothes, and how I put them on; theirs being so very different from ours. They told me that I wore too many dresses at the same time. They wear only a shirt of thin cotton or crape, made high to the throat, open at the bosom, and with long, wide sleeves; very full trowsers, drawn in and tied round the waist and below the knee, but falling in graceful folds nearly to the ground; and an open, short jacket, with a shawl tied round the waist like a sash or girdle. They kindly sent away my wet garments to be dried at the oven, and made a comfortable seat of cushions for me on the floor. One lady made some sweet sherbet of pomegranates, and handed it to me. A second brought me coffee in a little china cup without any handle, held in another one, exactly of the shape and size of a common egg-cup, made of prettily-embossed and chased silver.

Then Sit Habîbî sat by my side smoking a nargihlé, and in answer to my questions she told me that she was the eldest wife of Mohammed Bek, the Governor of Arrabeh, and she pointed out to me two other ladies who were also his wives. Then, at my request, she introduced to me the three wives of Saleh Bek, the Governor of Hâifa. They were very much astonished when I told them that I knew their husband, Saleh Bek, very well, and brought messages from him. They could not understand it, as they never had heard of a woman seeing any men except her own relations. A Moslem lady may not even see her future husband till the wedding-day. One of the wives asked me rather suspiciously if Saleh Bek had established a harem at Hâifa. I soon reassured and satisfied them on that point. They all showed much curiosity respecting English people. Werdeh, which means rosy, said, "Is your brother handsome and strong? Is he fair to look upon? Are all the people of your country white?" And one said, "Why do you travel about without your women?"

While I was answering these questions I was taking notice of the room. It was rather low and long, the floor was nearly concealed by fine matting. On the side opposite to the door a narrow mattress was spread, it was covered with a strip of soft carpet, like stair-carpeting. Cushions and pillows cased in Oriental silks, placed on the mattress, were leaning against the wall, and thus a sort of low sofa was formed, and on the middle of this I was seated, surrounded by the ladies. Opposite to us on each side of the door there were similar seats or divans, where several women and girls were sitting smoking. At the end of the room, on my left hand, there were two very large wooden chests, painted bright red and garnished with brass locks and hinges of pretty design. Behind them was a wide, deep, arched recess in the wall, where mattresses and wadded quilts were piled up one on the other. Mirrors from Constantinople, in gilt frames, were hanging on each side of this recess. On my right hand, at the other end of the room, black slaves and servants sat on a rug, taking care of some infants and young children who were crying and quarreling. They were keeping up a continual buzzing chatter, and every now and then bursting out into little shrieks and exclamations. The floor of the room was raised about six inches above the level of the court without, except a square space just within the door, where the women put off their high clogs or shoes before they entered.

Werdeh and Habîbî sat by me, stroking my hair and face caressingly. They wondered that I wore no head-dress or ornament in my hair. The youngest wife of Saleh Bek of Hâifa, named Helweh, which signifies sweetness, sat close by the open door in a graceful attitude. She was only sixteen, and looked so pretty, and bright, and merry, that I opened my sketch-book and took her portrait. When the women saw what I was doing, they were very much astonished, for they had never seen any one draw a face or any thing else; indeed, it is contrary to the law of the Moslem religion to do so. They cried out, "O work of Allah! There is the face of Helweh! There are her eyes looking at us, and there is the coin of gold on her neck, and her hand holds the narghilé. O, wonderful!" Then Helweh came shyly to see the drawing, and she asked me if I drew her because she was the prettiest. I told her that I should like to draw any one who would sit near to the door, where the sunlight was streaming in. Then the others took the same seat in turn, and I made two more sketches, but Helweh was by far the prettiest. She had a sweet voice, which is rather unusual among Arab women, and was simple and frank in her manners. She wore yellow silk trowsers, ornamented at the sides with black silk braid. Her yellow pointed slippers were turned up at the toes. She wore no stockings. Her black velvet jacket was embroidered beautifully with gold thread, and a purple, red, and green shawl, twisted round her waist rather low, served for a girdle. A wide collar of gold coins encircled her throat, and a little, shallow, red cloth cap was arranged coquettishly on one side of her well-shaped head. A long tassel, springing from perforated gold balls, hung from it. Her hair, intertwined with silk braid, was divided into nine plaits and fell straight over her shoulders. Little jewels and pearls were fastened to it. Round her head, over her red cloth cap, or tarbûsh, she wore strings of pearls and coins and diamond and emerald sprays, and little bunches of red, yellow, and violet everlasting flowers, which grow wild on the hills in Palestine. She had large, dark eyes. The eyebrows were painted thickly, and the eyelids edged with kohl. She had spots of blue dye on her chest and on her chin, and a blue star tattooed on her forehead. The women were all thus ornamented, more or less, and they very much wished to paint and tattoo me in the same way.

I wrote down in my book the names of all the women and their children and servants in Arabic, and a description of their dresses in English. I found that Helweh was born at Kefr Kâra, and she told me how all the villages near to it were called. I explained the use of my map, and how by looking at it I could tell the direction of Senûr and other towns. Then they cried out more and more, "O work of God!" for they had never heard that it was possible for a woman to learn to read or write. They knew that men could do so, and their own sons went to a day school at the Mosque, where a learned dervish taught them to intone the Koran and to write a little. But the women believed that boys possessed some peculiar faculty which enabled them to study and to understand the mystery of unspoken words. Even Selim and Saïd, my little guides, were surprised, and said, "Mashallah! the stranger knows the writing of our language."

At about three o'clock, which they call the ninth hour, some black women, almost hidden in white sheets, brought in dinner. The first woman carried a little low wooden stand, inlaid with ivory and mother-of-pearl. She put it down on the floor opposite to me. Then another woman placed on it an old, round, heavy metal tray, engraved with sentences in Arabic from the Koran. A large towel, enbroidered with gold thread, was handed to me. After these preparations I was glad to see something to eat, for I was very hungry. The tray was soon quite covered with the following dishes: a small metal dish of fried eggs—a wooden bowl of lebbany, or sour milk—a bowl of sweet cream made of goat's milk—a dish of very stiff starch, like blanc mange, sweetened with rose-leaf candy, with almonds and pistachio nuts chopped up in it—a large dish of rice boiled in butter, with little pieces of fried mutton all over the top—and a plate of walnuts, dried fruits, sugared almonds and lemon-peel.

A black slave girl, with short scarlet cloth trowsers and scarlet jacket, silver necklace, armlets and anklets, stood by me, holding a silver saucer in her hand, filled with water, ready for me to drink whenever I wished for it. There was not a knife nor even a spoon to be seen, and I could find no plate for my especial use. I washed my hands and was invited to take up the food from any of the dishes, with a piece of a large flat loaf, very much like leather. They soon perceived that I was not much accustomed to that mode of eating, so they brought me a large wooden cooking spoon, at which the little ones laughed heartily. I wished the ladies to eat with me, but they would not. They allowed Selim and Saïd to do so, however, and they soon twisted their flat loaves into the shape of spoons, and helped themselves to milk and eggs, but the meat and rice they took up neatly in their hands. The ladies stood round all the while, to see that I had everything I required.

When I had eaten, the tray was moved into the middle of the room, and a large metal basin with a perforated cover was placed before me. On the top of it was a cake of native soap—stamped with a sign commonly called "Solomon's seal"—and as I rubbed my hands with it, water was poured over them, from a curious silver jug, something like an old-fashioned coffee-pot, with a long, thin, curved spout. One continuous stream ran over my hands, and disappeared through the cover of the basin. The embroidered towel was handed to me again, with some water to rinse my mouth.

The three wives of the Governor and the three wives of his brother Saleh Bek, with their children, then sat down on the matted floor round the tray, and dipping their hands together into the various dishes, they soon finished the simple meal. Two or three more dishes of rice were brought in. Each woman rose as soon as she was satisfied, had water poured over her hands, and washed her mouth. Afterward strong coffee without milk or sugar was passed round. The servants and slaves then assembled at the tray, and ate with astonishing speed and voracity, and quickly all traces of dinner were cleared away.

Chibouques—pipes with red earthenware bowls and long tubes made of cherry-stick or jasmine, with ebony mouthpieces—were handed to the elderly ladies, and two or three narghilés to the others, who took them in turn. After Helweh had smoked for a few minutes, she inclined her head gracefully, placed one hand on her bosom, touched her forehead with the pliant tube, and then handed it to the lady sitting next to her, who happened to be the second wife of her own husband, Saleh Bek. Thus it was transferred from one smoker to another, even to the handmaidens, with the words, "May it give you pleasure!" This ceremonious politeness is strictly observed among the Moslems, even between the nearest relations. The prescribed forms of greeting in habitual use appear to me to have the effect of keeping comparative peace and harmony in the harems.

A very beautiful narghilé was prepared especially for me. It was at least half a yard high. The glass vase or bottle was clear as crystal, and well cut. It was filled with water, in which rose-leaves were floating. At the top of the long-necked vaše was a well-chased solid silver bowl, holding the burning charcoal and Persian tumbac. The pliable snake-like tube or hose connected with it was covered with red velvet and bound with gold wire. It was about four yards long. The mouthpiece was of amber, set with rubies and turquoise. The smoke passed through the water, bubbling and disturbing the red-rose leaves, and then traveled up the long tube. Thus the fragrant fumes of the tumbac were cooled and purified before they reached my lips.

I observed that there was a little whispering and consultation going on among the women, and then Helweh came and sat by me and said, "Are you married ?" I said, "No," and they answered, "Why then have you left your father and mother? are they not kind to you?" I told them how good they were, and how my mother taught me to speak and read and write my own language, and the languages of other people. I tried to make them understand how English parents educate their children.

Werdeh said, "It is much better to marry and to stay at home than to travel about the country. The dangers are great now in this time of war, and the women should stay at home."

Sit Sâra said, "Werdeh has spoken wisely. Why do you not marry?"

I answered, "Ya sitta, there are no men of my country here. How can I marry?"

Sâra then said, "You speak our language like a stranger, but you speak it sweetly. An Arab would take you. Why do you not marry an Arab?"

I replied—very much amused—"My mother is not here to find a husband for me. How can I marry?" I thought that this answer would settle the question at once in their estimation; but Sit Sâra said, "I will be your mother, and bring you to a husband. My brother is a Cadi, a great Judge of Nablûs. He looks for a wife. He has only three. He will love you because you are white."

I answered, laughingly, "Thank you, O my mother! what preparations must I make, and when must I be ready?"

Sit Sâra considered for a moment, and then said, "How many camels has your father got?"

I replied, "My father has no camels. In my country there are only three or four living camels kept as curiosities, in a house in a beautiful garden, with servants to watch over them and take care of them. We have a few stuffed camels also, in a large glass house." At this they all laughed loudly, and cried, "O most marvelous!"

Sâra continued, "Are your father's olive-trees new and fruitful?" "My father has no olive-trees." At this they were still more surprised. Sâra said, "Your father has gold. He will give you of his gold, and precious stones, and a red box, full of clothes and towels, some silk cushions, a red wooden cradle, and much soap. My brother has great wealth, and he will give camels to your father for your portion, and gold coins."

I found that they thought that I was in earnest. They all clapped their hands, and one of the women sang a song of rejoicing, thus:

O Lady Miriam, child of a far-off land

Dwell with us and we shall have joy!

You shall be cherished above all the women

In the house of my brother!

You shall be his queen and his chief delight!

For your face is like the moon,

And your words are precious as pearls!

O Lady Miriam, child of a far-off land,

Dwell with us and we shall have joy!"

Then all the women rose and stood in a circle, forming a chain by slipping their hands into each other's girdles. They first moved slowly and gently round, in a measured step and to a monotonous tune, which they sang, while the servants and children, seated on the floor, were beating time by clapping their hands. They sang thus:

   "Let us dance; let us sing;

    He is looking from the lattice.

He will throw to us showers of silver;

He will throw to us showers of gold!

    Let us dance, let us sing:

    Faster, faster; louder, louder!

Let him hear our mingling voices;

Let him hear our twinkling footsteps.

    Let us dance, let us sing;

    Faster, faster; louder, louder!

He will throw to us showers of silver;

He will throw to us showers of gold!"

They sang this over and over again, and the dance gradually quickened till it became very animated, but the dancers always kept in step. At last they sat down quite tired. While they rested I told them how I passed my time at Hâifa, and I tried to give them an idea of my home in London, and how it was quite possible to live there, without camels or olive-trees. They asked me if the people ever danced in England. They were very much shocked when they heard that men and women danced at the same time and together.

At sunset little Selim told me my brother wished to speak to me. He led me to him. He was in the vaulted chamber, with several Effendis and Moslem gentlemen, who asked me if I did not feel afraid to travel in a country where the people were fighting and plundering each other. I said, "I am not afraid, your excellencies, for I have found that all in this land are kind to the stranger." Then they said, "May Allah make a straight path for you!"

Supper was brought into the divan for the gentlemen, so I returned to the harem. It was cheerfully brightened by little red clay lamps, placed in niches in the walls, and a large lantern stood on a low stool in the middle of the room. The women were wondering how I could dare to go to the men's quarter of the house. I explained to them that it was the custom in England for men and women to meet together constantly, and that we walked, or rode, or drove abroad unvailed. They were exceedingly surprised. I added, "We are governed by a Sultana, named 'Nassirah,' (Victoria,) a lady so much loved and respected by her subjects, that when she appears in the streets, or public places, the people cry aloud for joy, and shout, 'God save the Sultana!' Then her face is bright with pleasure, and she looks graciously around, bowing her head to rich and to poor alike. And on certain days the nobles, and the learned men and her officers, are allowed to kiss her hand." They cried, "O most wonderful!" and Sâra said, "Is your Sultana a girl?" I answered, "No, she is married, but the Prince, her husband, takes no part in the government." A sudden light seemed to break in upon them, and I found that I had unwittingly given them the idea that the women of England rule and take the lead in every thing, and are superior to the men. I could not entirely remove this impression, for they said, "Your Sultana could not keep the scepter in her hand, if she were not stronger and wiser than the men." One of the women said, "Can your brother, the Consul, write?" I tried to give them a more favorable opinion of my countrymen, but I do not think I succeeded very well, for they still seemed to fancy that women were their superiors.

Supper was brought for me in the same order as dinner, except that we had, in addition, a large dish filled with little green sausages. They were made of minced meat and rice, rolled up in leaves, dressed in butter. They were very nice. Asmé, a beautiful girl about eight years of age—the eldest daughter of Saleh Bek—and Selim, ate with me. The ladies stood in attendance. I described how English people sit on chairs, round a high table, and eat from separate plates, using knives, and forks, and spoons; and how men and women eat together. They cried out, "O, wonderful!" For they had never heard of a woman eating in the presence of a man—not even with her husband or father.

After supper they talked about the war. They told me how much they feared for their two eldest sons, who, though only fifteen or sixteen, went constantly in the skirmishes in the mountains. These boys had often been slightly wounded, and every day their mothers expected to hear of one of them being killed. Then they sang a song about the Governor, Mohammed Bek, who was absent from Arrabeh, and they sang thus:

"May our enemies perish before him;

May the arm of our prince be strong;

May he be mighty in the battle-field;

May his enemies perish before him:

  That our shepherds may pasture

    Their flocks in peace,

  And our camels carry

    Their burdens in safety

May our enemies perish before our prince,

  Our prince and our protector!

May he return to us with joy,

  With great joy, and as a conqueror!

And all the dwellers in the mountains

  Shall tremble before him!^[4]

Then the black slaves danced, each one standing alone, a little apart from the others. They moved their arms above their heads slowly and gracefully, bending the body forward gradually; then suddenly they raised their heads, and rose to their extreme hight, with their hands high. Their limbs seemed very supple and pliant, and I think they enjoyed dancing very much; but it was not a pretty or lively dance. They sang about a beautiful Bedawî girl with teeth like lightning. I sang English songs at their request, and showed them a few of the measures and figures of our Western dances. They were most pleased with the Spanish waltz, which I danced slowly, with imaginary partners. They clapped their hands, beating time while I sang.

After this I was very tired, and I asked Sit Sâra to let me sleep. She said, "Let us walk out on the terrace. The rain is over; the stars are shining. Let us walk out, O my daughter! and the room shall be made ready." So we strolled on the terrace of the harem with Helweh. There were red watch-fires on the hills around. By looking through the round holes in the parapets we could see people in the streets below us, with servants carrying lanterns before them. Bright stars shone in the deep-purple night sky.

I was led across the court into a square room, and introduced to the fourth and youngest wife of the Governor of Arrabeh. I had not even heard of her before. She was surrounded by her women and attendants, and was sitting on a mattress propped up by pillows and cushions, and partly covered by a silk embroidered lehaff. Her head-dress was adorned with jewels, and roses, and everlasting flowers; and her violet velvet jacket was richly embroidered. Her cheeks were highly rouged, and her eyebrows painted. Her eyelids were newly dressed with kohl and her hands with henna. She lifted a little swaddled figure from under some heavy coverings, and handed it to me. It was her first-born son; he was seven days old, and his father had not yet seen him. The mother had hoped and prepared for the pleasure of placing her boy in his arms that night, but he had not returned to Arrabeh. A week is usually allowed to elapse before a Moslem father sees his new-born child or its mother, and the eighth day is generally kept as a day of rejoicing and congratulation. Professional singing women are hired for the occasion.

Coffee was made for me, and a narghilé prepared; but I did not linger long with the young Moslem mother and her infant son, for the room was so overheated that I could scarcely breathe. A large open brazier, filled with glowing charcoal, stood near the door, and the air and every thing in the place seemed to be impregnated with an oppressive odor of musk. Even the coffee and the fumes of the narghilé were strongly flavored with it. I was very glad to be in the fresh air again on the starlit terrace.

When we went back into the large room, I found that it had been nicely swept. In one corner, five mattresses were placed, one on the top of the other, with a red silk pillow, and a silk embroidered wadded quilt, lined with calico, arranged nicely as a bed for me. I rejoiced inwardly, thinking that I was to have the room to myself. But very soon I was undeceived, for seven other beds were spread on the floor, each formed of a single mattress only, with a quilted coverlid and pillow. (If a Moslem wishes to pay great honor to a guest, several mattresses are piled up for him or her to sleep upon, and these gradations of respect are curiously observed. Five is rather a high figure, but I have known my brother to have seven spread for him.)

I found that all the ladies, and children, and servants, and slaves, were to sleep in the same room with me! Two narrow hammocks, each about a yard long, were taken from a recess, and, fastened to ropes, suspended from iron rings in the ceiling. The hammocks were oblong frames, made of the strong stems of palm fronds, with coarse canvas stretched over them. To these, two swaddled and screaming children were securely bound. Ropes, made of palm-fiber, were fastened to the corners, and united and plaited together, about one yard above, and then fixed to strong ropes hanging from the ceiling. The four corner ropes formed a tent-like frame-work to support a piece of muslin for a musketo curtain.

When I began to undress, the women watched me with curiosity, and when I put on my nightgown they were exceedingly astonished, and exclaimed, "Where are you going? What are you going to do?" and, "Why is your dress white?" They made no change in their dress for sleeping, and there they were, in their bright-colored clothes, ready for bed in a minute. But they stood round me till I said, "Good-night!" They all kissed me, wishing me good dreams. Then I kneeled down, and presently, without speaking to them again, I got into bed, and turned my face toward the wall, thinking over the strange day I had spent. I tried to compose myself for sleep, though I heard the women whispering together.

When my head had rested for about five minutes on the soft red silk pillow, I felt a hand stroking my forehead, and heard a voice saying, very gently, "Ya Habîbi!" that is, "O beloved!" But I would not answer directly, as I did not wish to be roused unnecessarily. I waited for a little while, and my face was touched again. I felt a kiss on my forehead, and the voice said, "Miriam, speak to us. Speak, Miriam, darling!" I could not resist any longer, so I turned round and saw Helweh, Saleh Bek’s prettiest wife, leaning over me. I said, "What is it, Sweetness? what can I do for you?" She answered, "What did you do just now, when you kneeled down and covered your face with your hands?" I sat up, and said very solemnly, "I spoke to God, Helweh!" "What did you say to him ?" said Helweh. I replied, "I wish to sleep. God never sleeps. I have asked him to watch over me, and that I may fall asleep, remembering that he never sleeps, and wake up remembering his presence. I am very weak, God is all powerful. I have asked him to strengthen me with his strength."

By this time all the ladies were sitting round me on my bed, and the slaves came and stood near. I told them that I did not know their language well enough to explain to them all I had thought and said. But, as I had learned the Lord's Prayer by heart in Arabic, I repeated it to them, sentence by sentence, slowly. When I began thus, "Our Father who art in heaven," Helweh directly said, "You told me that your father was in London." I replied, "I have two fathers, Helweh: one in London, who does not know that I am here, and can not know till I write and tell him; and a Heavenly Father, who is with me always—who is here now, and sees and hears us. He is your Father also. He teaches us to know good from evil if we listen to him and obey him." For a moment there was perfect silence. They all looked startled, and as if they felt that they were in the presence of some unseen power. Then Helweh said, "What more did you say?" I continued the Lord's Prayer; and when I came to the words, "Give us day by day our daily bread," they said, "Can not you make your bread yourself?" The passage, "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us," is particularly forcible in the Arabic language, and one of the elder women, who was rather severe and relentless looking, on hearing it said, "Are you obliged to say that every day?" As if she thought that sometimes it would be difficult to do so. They said, "Are you a Moslem?" I answered, "I am not called a Moslem; but I am your sister, made by the same God, who is the one only God, the God of all, my Father and your Father." They asked me if I knew the Koran, and were surprised to hear that I had read it. They handed a rosary to me, saying, "Do you know that?" I repeated a few of the most striking and comprehensive attributes very carefully and slowly. Then they cried out, "Mashallah"—" The English girl is a true believer;" and the impressionable, sensitive-looking Abyssinian slave-girls said, with one accord, "She is indeed an angel!"

Moslems, both men and women, have the name of "Allah" constantly on their lips; but they do not appear to realize the presence and power of God, or to be conscious of spiritual communion with him. Their common greetings and salutations are touching and beautiful words of prayer and thanksgiving, varied with poetic feeling and Oriental sentiment, to suit any occasions. But their greetings, after all, seem to me only to express politeness, respect, kindness, good-will, or affection, as the case may be. Even as the old English "God be with you!" has lost its full significance—and more, it has even lost its sound, clipped as it is into a commonplace "good-by." The Moslem ejaculations before and after eating, and during the performance of ablutions, though beautiful and appropriate, are now merely like exclamations of self-congratulation, without reference to any superior or unseen power. And the regular daily prayers so scrupulously said by men, though generally neglected by women, are reduced to ceremonial forms; while the words uttered are, in many instances, sublime and magnificent.

If this my notion be correct, it will explain why these women were so startled, when, in answer to Helweh's question, I said simply and earnestly, "I spoke to God." This took them by surprise, and gave them the idea that I believed that my words were really heard. Whereas, if I had answered in commonplace language, such as, "I was saying my prayers," or "I was at my devotions," probably they would not have been impressed in the same way; though they might have wondered that a Franji should pray at all to their God. One of the women remarked, that no people, except Moslems, ever prayed to the one true God.

After talking with them for some time, and answering, as clearly as I could, their earnest, shrewd, and child-like questions, I said "good-night" once more. So they kissed me, and smoothed my pillow. But though I was fatigued bodily, my mind was so thoroughly roused and interested, that I could not immediately sleep. I watched the women resting under bright-colored quilts, with their heads on low, silken pillows. The lantern on the stool in the middle of the room lighted up the coins and jewels on their head-dresses. Now and then, one of the infants cried, and its mother or a slave rose to quiet it; and it was fed without being taken from its hammock. The mother stood upright while the slave inclined the hammock toward her for a few minutes. Then there was silence again. The room was very close and warm, and the faces of some of the sleepers were flushed. At last I slept also.

When I awoke in the morning I found that all the beds had been cleared away. Helweh and Sit Sâra stood by mine, as if they had been watching for me to wake. A number of boys almost blocked up the doorway, where the sunlight was streaming in. Servants and slaves were chattering, and piling up the mattresses in the recess. Little children were quarreling. The boys alone were silent. A black girl was sitting on the floor, pounding some freshly roasted coffee-berries in a marble mortar. Their fragrant aroma filled the room. I think that the mortar was made out of an ancient capital. It was beautifully carved, like Roman work. Another girl was making a kind of porridge of bread, milk, sugar, and oil, for the children.

When Helweh perceived that I was awake she called out to the boys to clear the doorway; and a group of women, shrouded in white sheets, who had been waiting in the court outside, entered. They were neighbors, who had been paying visits of congratulation to the young mother whom I had seen on the previous night. They had been invited to come in "to hear the English girl speak to God."

My garments were examined with curiosity, and I had very much more assistance than I required in making my toilette. When I was dressed Helweh said, "Now, Miriam, darling, will you speak to God, that the women, our neighbors, may hear?"

So I kneeled down, saying, "God, the one true God, is the Creator and Father of all; and those who seek him truly shall surely find him." Then, in a few simple words, I prayed that he would keep us in continual remembrance of him. That we might feel his presence; and that he would write his law in our hearts, and lead us to seek earnestly to understand and to obey his will concerning us. That we might be inspired to love him more and more, with a trustful and reverential love, and live in harmony with all people.

After a pause I said, "Will you say Amen to that prayer?" They hesitated, till Helweh exclaimed, "Amîn, Amîn!" and then the others echoed it.

Sâra said, "Speak yet again, my daughter. Speak about the bread." So I repeated the Lord's Prayer, explaining it—as I understand it—sentence by sentence, at their request. They asked me some very curious and suggestive questions, and they prayed that I would stay with them always. But while I was taking coffee, and hot bread and cream, one of the boys brought me a note from my brother, to tell me that he would be ready to start in half an hour, and that I was to go to him in the divan as soon as possible. So Sâra brought me my cloak and habit, which had been nicely dried and smoothed. With regret I took leave of my warm-hearted friends of the harem. They said, "Go in peace," and "Return to us again, O Miriam, beloved!"

 

 

1. See Exod. xxxv, 26; xxxvi, 14.
2. Is this custom indirectly alluded to in Amos iv, 6, where it is written: "I have given you cleanness of teeth and want of bread in all your places?"
3. Even on the chart illustrating Murray's delightful Handbook, Kefr Kâra and Khubeizeh are not marked. But on a map in the Weekly Dispatch Atlas, Khubeizeh, and the villages in its neighborhood, may be found, and they appear to me to be quite correctly placed.
4. Arab songs are very difficult for foreigners to understand. I could make out little more than the subject and spirit of the above while the women were singing them. Helweh, at my request, explained the words in simple language, assisted by signs; and a year afterward, when she was my neighbor at Hâifa, she helped me to understand them sufficiently to enable me thus to render them into English.