During the last twenty years there have been many English and other visitors to Petra; but they have usually taken it in the way from Egypt towards Jerusalem, which is probably convenient with respect to the season of the year, inasmuch as they thereby get a warm winter before the “sights” of Jerusalem (as some irreverently speak) begin.  It would not be so well to take Egypt after Easter.

But, on hearing that several travellers had been unable to reach Petra even after ’Akabah, on account of hostilities arising between the Alaween and the Tiyâhah Arabs, or on account of the exorbitant demands of money made by the former of these, I thought the time had arrived for me to show the practicability of getting at the wonders of Petra from Jerusalem, under escort of the Jehâleen Arabs near Hebron.

On looking back at my notes of the journey, I am astonished at the rapid flight of time; for although my recollection is on the whole very vivid, these notes are dated in April 1851.  Full occupation during the intervening period has seemed to shorten the interval.  The scene, too, is now changed; for instead of the arid desert and the blasted porphyry cliffs of Edom, then before my eyes, these lines are penned among the bright green meadows of England, with the broad Thames in view, bearing large three-masted ships on its tide, freighted with imports from the most distant parts of the world.

With an officer of dragoons, being a traveller in Jerusalem, and under escort of Hamzeh, the Hebron agent for the Jehâleen, we proceeded across country to meet the Arabs in their wilderness.

Here was a travelling durweesh, fantastically dressed, amusing the peasants by dancing and cracking a long whip; while a lad accompanying him thumped a large drum,—both the thonged whip and the large drum being rare objects in that country.

In a quarter of an hour we terminated our short day’s journey (about six hours and a half) in a meadow of long green grass.  The site is called Beerain, from the two wells there.  Selâmeh, the brother of the Arab chief, with several of his people, were awaiting our arrival; and they were to lead us forward in the morning.

April 2.—My right knee was much swollen from the strain of a sinew, caused by an unexpected step down a bank taken by my horse when near Hhalhhool, on the road from Jerusalem; consequently, feeling feverish, and with a headache all night, I was not soothed by the camels groaning, quarrelling, or champing their food close to my tent.

We started, but in a very short time became disgusted at the slow travelling of our caravan, as we were compelled to moderate the pace of our riding to suit the leisurely tread of the camels.  Selâmeh bestrode a very young colt of the K’baishi race; but I rated my pony, of the Jilfi stock, still higher than his.

The wide expanse before us was sprinkled with wild flowers, including the yellow furze, (I have beside me, while writing this, a bunch of the same, of English growth;) and the ret’m, or juniper, seven or eight feet in height, covered with white blossom, the fragrance of which resembled, or, if possible, was an improvement upon, the smell of a bean-field in flower.

Near Ziph, the rocks have many ancient wells cut into their solid substance.  About noon we halted at a rough natural cistern, for the purpose of filling our barrels and kirbehs (goat and camel skins) with water.  This task occupied an hour, during which I contrived to find just enough shade for my head under a big stone, but took refuge in the cistern itself while the camels were being reloaded.

In the middle of the afternoon we arrived at the encampment of the Jehâleen, under the north-east side of Tell ’Arâd, the site of the Canaanitish city in Num. xxi. I, xxxiii. 40; Judges i. 16.  It was a cheerful green site, though the verdure consisted merely of a thin and poor grass.

We had to be introduced to the real shaikh on his own territorial domain, namely, Hadji Daif Allah abu Dahook,—a sharp fellow in driving a bargain,—a taller and stouter man than any of his people, who were all extremely dirty in person and dress, and several of them but small, withered-looking old men.  One of the women, however, was tall, and walked with exceeding dignity of manner.

Our European tents were pitched at some distance from the black hair tents of the Arabs and we observed, soon after our arrival, that three strangers came up on horseback, carrying spears tufted with black ostrich feathers, on a visit to our shaikh.  They were well received; and songs, with clapping of hands, continued during a great part of the night, with a monotonous accompaniment of the women grinding corn in their hand-mills!

Low hills bounded the view on every side, over which some peaks of the Moab mountains showed themselves in the east.

When fairly started on the march at 10 past 6 a.m., we went along very cheerily, accompanied by Hadji Daif Allah and the three strangers, till, on a sudden, the latter wheeled about, and required from us the ghuf’r, or toll, for our future passage through their country.  The shaikh recommended us to make them a present of a couple of dollars, as they were neighbours of Petra, and without their good-will we should not be able to succeed in the expedition.

We complied, and they rode off southwards, Abu Dahook returning to his camp.

The strongest and worst tempered one of our camels having the barrels of water to carry, suddenly lay down and rolled them from him.  Had his burden been the skins of water instead, they would have burst, and we should have lost their precious contents.  Our Arabs not being accustomed to the convoy of travellers, were as yet unskilful in loading the camels, or in poising the burdens in equal divisions; and most extraordinary noises did they make in urging the beasts forward,—sounds utterly indescribable in European writing, or even by any combinations of the Arabic alphabet!

We had about half a dozen men, mostly trudging on foot, and but slightly armed, commanded by Selâmeh; and one of them, named Salem, was the merry-andrew of the party, full of verbal and practical jokes.  The ride was exhilarating,—over a level plain, green with thin grass or weeds, and low shrubs, whose roots extended to surprising distances, mostly above the surface of the ground; the morning breeze delicious, with larks trilling high above us in the sky, and smaller birds that sang among the bushes.

Passed ’Ain Mel’hh, (Salt-fountain,) which Robinson identifies with the Moladah of Joshua xix. 2, by means of the transition name of Malatha in Greek.  The only building now remaining is a square weli, surmounted by a dome.  Here we were not far from Beersheba, upon our right, and fell in with the common route from Gaza and Hebron to Ma’ân.  Finding a flock of goats, we got new milk from the shepherd; when diluted with water, this is a refreshing beverage.

At a narrow pass, called Daiket ’Arâr, was the shell of an old building, now roofless.  Near this, and by the wayside, as we advanced, were considerable remains of foundations of houses.  There must have been a town of note at that place, it is the ’Aroer of 1 Sam. xxx. 28.  Our course now suddenly trended towards the east, instead of southwards.

In less than another hour we came to Kubbet el Baul, merely the foundation of a small weli.  Selâmeh told us that this had belonged to a tribe called Bali, (or Baul in the plural.)  I have no doubt that this is the site of Balah of Joshua xix. 3; and that from it the Arabs, settling near it afterwards, derived their appellation.

We soon afterwards, 3 p.m., passed Curnub, a ruined place on the right, and descended the slope of Muzaikah.

Not far from this must have transpired the incidents recorded of Hagar and Ishmael,—incidents that might have occurred yesterday, or last week; for a few thousand years count but little in so primitive a region.

Our ragged fellows ran about singing, in search of thorns or long roots, or even the straggling plants of bitter colocynth, as fuel for our cooking-fire.

Stars arose, but such stars! not like the spangles of the English poet’s conception, those “patines of bright gold,” though that idea is beautiful; but one could see that they were round orbs that flashed streams of diamond light from out their bigness.

So luxurious a bed as that spread upon the desert sand, amid such pure air for breathing, is scarcely to be obtained but in exactly similar circumstances; and we were undisturbed by cries of any wild beasts, although jackals and hyenas are common at night in the more cultivated parts of Palestine.

April 4.—Thermometer, Fahrenheit, 53¾° at sunrise.  We had our breakfast, and were off again by sunrise.  It is said that

“Early to bed, and early to rise,
Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.”

The groom being left behind a short time for packing up the kitchen utensils, allowed us to get out of sight without his observing the direction we had taken; and, when mounted, he took a wrong course.  It was therefore necessary to give chase towards the hills to recover him.

In an hour we reached two tul’hh (acacia or mimosa) trees, from which, I believe, the gum-arabic is obtained, and the stump of a third.  These were the first that we had seen.  Then descended, during about half an hour, to the broken walls of a town called Sufâh, below which commenced the very remarkable nuk’beh, or precipitous slope into the great Wadi ’Arabah.  Before commencing this, however, we paused to survey the savage scenery around us, and the glorious expanse of the plain, which extends from the Dead Sea to the Red Sea, and is bounded on one side by the hills of Judæa, and on the other by the mountains of Edom,—on an average of 3500 feet above the level,—including Mount Hor, the most conspicuous peak among them.  At that time, however, the range was capped with rolling mists of the morning.

We were standing among crevasses of shivered mountains, whose strata are tossed about in fantastic contortions; and what we had yet to traverse below this, was something like a thousand feet of very slippery rock, lying in flakes, and sloping two ways at once.  The greater length forms a rough line, at an angle of what seemed to the eye to be one of forty-five degrees,—not so steep as the Terâbeh that we came to afterwards, but longer and more perilous.  Yet this is the only approach to Judæa from the desert for many leagues around.  Was it here that King Amaziah destroyed his Edomite prisoners after his victory in the “valley of salt?”  (2 Chron. xxv. 12.)

Half way down, one of our barrels of water slipped off a camel, and rolled into a chasm with noise and echoes like thunder.  Wonderful to relate, it was not broken, and we were thankful for its preservation.

The desert may be described as a dried pudding of sand and pebbles, in different proportions in different places,—sometimes the sand predominating, and sometimes the pebbles,—with occasionally an abundance of very small fragments of flint, serving to give a firmer consistency to the sand.  Round boulders are also met with on approaching the hill-sides.  In one place large drifts of soft yellow sand were wrinkled by the wind, as a smooth sea-beach is by the ripples of a receding tide.  These wrinkles, together with the glare of a burning sun upon them, affected the eyes, so as to make the head giddy in passing over them.

The tul’hh, or mimosa-tree, has a strange appearance, very like an open fan, or the letter V filled up.

On what a stupendous scale is geology to be studied in Mount Seir, where you have masses of red sandstone 1500 feet in depth; yellow sandstone extending miles away in ranges of hills, and the sandy desert beneath; all of this incapable of cultivation; and inspiring a sensation of deep sadness, in connexion with the denunciations of God’s prophecies!

At a quarter before four we caught the first glimpse of the Mezâr of Aaron’s tomb, and at five pitched our tents on the rugged side of Hor, among crags and scented plants, enlivened by numerous cuckoos, and the sweet warbling of one little bird.  What reminiscences of dear old England the song of the cuckoos awakened!  Now, however, from henceforth, being in England, their song will infallibly recall the memory to large bare mountains, extreme heat of climate, and the fragrance of Elijah’s ret’m plant.

This had been the hottest day of our whole journey; and the atmosphere became thick as the evening stole over the hills.

April 6th.—Sunrise, Fahrenheit 77°.  In the morning we advanced upwards towards Aaron’s tomb.  Walking in front of the luggage, we met the clergyman of whom we had heard the day before.  He had been allowed to leave Petra on suffering the people to take money out of his pockets,—reserving to himself the intention of complaining against them officially to the consul in Jerusalem.

He had been to the summit of Hor, and pronounced the view from it to be more grand and striking than that from Sinai.  On bidding him farewell, we took Selâmeh and one kawwâs, for clambering on our hands and knees to the summit, leaving the luggage to proceed and wait for us farther on; but had to rest occasionally in the shade of large trees of ’Arâr, which Robinson considered to be the true juniper, and not the ret’m.  The latter (the rothem of the Hebrew Bible, under which the Prophet Elijah reposed) was very abundant, and covered with white blossom, shedding the richest perfume.  Is it possible that all this fragrance, and the warbling of the birds, is but “wasted in the desert air?”

Still higher, I picked up some tesseræ of mosaic, and morsels of marble and alabaster,—a piece of the latter now lies on the table before me.

At length we attained the highest peak, where there was scarcely more space than sufficient to contain the small weli-building, which was at the time untenanted, though we had expected to find a Moslem devotee in permanent residence there.

Let those who take pleasure in doing so, doubt that on that peak lies interred Aaron, the first high priest of Israel, “the saint of the Lord,” and that there was effected the first personal transfer of the pontifical office from him to Eleazer his son.  Rather let me believe that there my unworthy footsteps have been placed on the same pieces of rock with the two venerable brothers who led up the redeemed people from Egypt, “the house of bondage,” and that it was there they parted, leaving Moses to carry on the task alone.

The floor of the chamber has been handsomely paved with tesselated bits of coloured marble, much of which still remains.  Over the tomb are suspended some ostrich eggs on a line, as is common in oriental churches; and near it is a mihrâb, or niche in the wall, to indicate the southerly direction for Moslem prayers.

In a corner of the floor, a flight of steps leads down to a crypt; and, providing ourselves with a light, we descended thither, in expectation of finding there the more ancient tomb, believed to be genuine, as it is the usual practice in Moslem welies to have an imitation tomb on the common floor at the entrance, while the true one is exactly beneath it.  But we only found an iron grating, swinging loose to the touch, and within it a plain wall, from which part of the plaster having fallen away, allowed to be seen the corner of a kind of stone sarcophagus.  The portion visible was not, however, sufficient to enable us to judge of its probable era.  The ceiling of the crypt is blackened by the smoke of lamps.

Descending the mountain by the opposite side of that of our arrival,—namely, on the side next to Petra,—we discovered that more pains in roadmaking had been bestowed there, and that the ascent in that direction would be comparatively easy.  Cuckoos and partridges were heard plentifully; and, on looking back, I saw a very large raven hovering over the weli.

In an hour’s descent we rejoined our servants and horses, but were not yet at the foot of the mountain.

Entering a valley of red rocks, much streaked with blue in wavy lines, the first work of antiquity that met our view was a square turret on each side of the road.  Then we passed some tombs, or chambers, cut into the massive red cliffs with architectural cornices, pediments, and pilasters, some of them very handsome.  Next was what Laborde marks in his map as “the solitary column.”  It is standing solitary; but then near its base lie other columns of the same edifice, with the circular slices (or drums, as architects term them) that composed them, scarcely disturbed as they slid down in falling.

In five minutes more we halted for the night close to what Laborde designates the Acropolis, where a pile of fine building lies prostrate, and the columns on the ground, in their segments, still touching each other.

Here, then, we were fairly lodged among the wonders which so deservedly excite the curiosity of the world, and proceeded to improve time, before the Fellahheen of the district should arrive to annoy us, by crowding and importunity.

It is not my design to recount in detail the marvels of the place,—this has been done by Laborde, Lord Lindsay, Wilson, and Robinson,—but just to say, that having with me the small edition of Laborde and some manuscript notes extracted from other books, by their help I saw most of what was to be seen.  I wandered through streets of the middle town; surveyed and entered palaces hewn into crimson rocks; sat reading on the solid benches of the theatre, and walked along its stage; then gazed with unwearied admiration on the beautiful Khazneh, its delicate tints and graceful proportions, and went to rest upon a green bank opposite to it, with a running stream at my feet, bordered by gorgeous oleanders, where I chatted with some wild Arabs arriving from the south.  Such a harmony of ruddy tints, from the darkest buds of the oleander, through gradations on the rocks, to the most delicate pink, was truly a feast of nature for the eyes.

Then commenced the negotiations and disputes between them and ours; noise and menace speedily ensued, alternated with diplomatic manœuvres, for our champion, Selâmeh, was an able practitioner in such matters, at least he had a reputation for it.  The stormy scenes were not concluded till late in the night, and they ended by an arrangement that travellers, arriving by the new road from Jerusalem, should pay the same pecuniary acknowledgment to the territorial owners as had been hitherto claimed from those arriving under Alaween escort from Nukh’l or ’Akabah; and this agreement I ratified orally, as writing or sealing would have been altogether out of place there.  One might think that so simple a matter could have been finished in five minutes; but just as in European business of that nature, it is always necessary for the contracting parties to be allowed scope for the display of their professional talents.

These people were ’Ali Rasheed’s branch of the Alaween, from a district not so distant as ’Akabah.  Our Jehâleen party looked very insignificant among them; they had evidently not expected this turn of events.

As soon as we Europeans showed ourselves after breakfast, the Fellahheen rushed forward to serve as guides in exhibiting the curiosities.  Feeling rather lame, I decided on remaining at the tents with my two kawwâses as sentinels; the more disposed to do so, as the strangers had, during the night, purloined some articles from the Jehâleen.

This gave us an opportunity of passing again in front of the principal edifices, if they may be so denominated, including what I had not before seen, the sepulchre with the Latin inscription in large letters, QVINTVS. PRÆTEXTVS. FLORENTINVS.

With respect to the colouring of the hills and rocks, it is truly surprising to behold such huge masses of deep red colour, variegated with wavy lines of violet and purple and blue, especially in the direction towards Mount Hor.  We did not, however, remark so much of yellow and orange as Laborde or Irby and Mangles describe.

I find since that Dr Wilson states these rocks to be highly saliferous, and says the Arabs scrape them with knives to obtain saltpetre for making their rude gunpowder.  He is of opinion that in some geological era the whole place has been formed in a salt-water lake.  Few people have had so much leisure for making researches there as he had.

The temperature was high in the valley, because closely confined between lines of hills; notwithstanding that the elevation is supposed to exceed 2000 feet above the Mediterranean.  What it may be in a more advanced season than April I cannot tell; but I perceived neither scorpions nor serpents there, (as some represent the place to abound in,) no creeping things worse than earwigs.

The last glance given to Petra showed us the palace of Pharaoh, and the peak of Hor with Aaron’s tomb.

Our way led us over a tolerable plain, made agreeable by the fragrance of the ret’m, as wafted along by the breeze; this plant sometimes almost covering the small branch valleys.

Soon after noon we were in the Wadi Nemela, through which we travelled for nearly two hours,—a scene of broken rocks on each side, and the intermediate space with a profusion of oleander, ret’m and ’arâr, all in flower, some of the latter having trunks of ten feet in circumference.

Soon after two p.m. we were passing over ledges of porphyry mountain-cliffs, dark and gloomy, but enlivened by large yellow salvia in bloom, and plenty of flowers visible in the hollow below; the whole scene most romantic and fantastic in formation.  Such huge piles of porphyry I had not seen since those of the coast of Peterhead and Buchan, lashed by the great billows coming from the Baltic Sea.  Occasionally we came to standing pools of water, which, lying on this hard kind of stone, could not filter away or be absorbed, as in our Palestine limestone would be the case.  From these settlements our water vessels were supplied.  Thermometer in shade of a rocky cliff, 75¾° Fahrenheit.

The surrounding prospect was one of utter desolation, and I took out my Bible and read the words of 2 Kings iii. 8,-9, and 20: “And he said, Which way shall we go up?  And he answered, The way through the wilderness of Edom.  So the king of Israel went, and the king of Judah, and the king of Edom; and they fetched a compass of seven days’ journey: and there was no water for the host, and for the cattle that followed them . . .  And it came to pass in the morning, when the meat-offering was offered, that, behold, there came water by the way of Edom, and the country was filled with water.”

We then proceeded northwards along the bed of that stream; but in a few minutes its water was lost in the sand.  In another hour we entered the dry bed of the Wadi el Jaib, and continued along its course in the direction of the Dead Sea.

The hills were misty on both sides, and the ground hot beneath, as we tramped along, all our voices hushed during the “strength of the heat,” (according to Arab expression,) and the footfall of the camels entirely without noise.

Who can sufficiently admire the adaptation of this creature to the desert, in which the Maker and Ruler of all has placed him?  No heat exceeds the power of his endurance; steadily, patiently, silently he stalks his long strides over the yellow ground—one animal following another in regular military step.  And during our travels at least he never flagged—the large eyes never lost their brightness; and who ever saw a camel, even though his master may seek rest or shade as he finds opportunity, shrink from the blazing brightness of the sun?

Thermometer at sunset, 81½° Fahrenheit.

We found footprints of gazelles, storks, and hyenas.

Mount Hor at that distance, and in that direction, very much resembles the Salisbury Crags of Edinburgh.

April 9th—Sunrise, Fahrenheit 63½°.  Tents struck, and all on the march by half-past five.  Losing sight of Mount Hor.

At a quarter to eight a breeze sprung up from the north, so refreshing in that hot and dry wilderness as to merit the praise of the Bedawi poem, beginning—

“Shemâli, ya hawa ed-deeret shemâli.”

“The north!  O thou wind of the northern direction,
It has increased my blessing, and all that belongs to me,
And after weakness of state, has changed my condition.”

I find, however, that this literal translation gives but a very poor idea of the feeling concentrated in the words of the original, and only feebly expresses the reminiscence of that time as still preserved at the moment of this writing.

The course of the wadi we had left trended from south-east to north-east, on issuing from which we took the line on the western side of the Ghuwair, and easily descended over small eminences.  This place is most probably the “ascent of Akrabbim,” (Num. xxxiv. 4, and Josh. xv. 3,) the southern boundary of the land given to Israel, and named after its abundance of scorpions.  In our hasty passage over it we saw none of these.

Among the marshes we found several palms growing wild.  They were stumpy in stature, and ragged in form for want of cultivation, or perhaps of congenial soil.  The miasma was strongly perceptible to the smell, and our horses were plagued with flies and gnats.  How great was this change from the pure dry air of the mountains!

Quarter to ten at ’Ain ’Aroos, (the bridegroom’s fountain,) but the water was brackish.

Thermometer in the shade, 83½° Fahrenheit.

For an hour past our people had been on the alert, on account of a feud between them and the Ghawârineh Arabs.  On coming up to the print of a human footstep, this was carefully examined as to its size, direction of the tread, etc.  The circumstances were not, however, exactly parallel to the occurrence in Robinson Crusoe, which naturally came to mind.

About noon we arrived at a clear, running stream of water, but which proved, on tasting, to be highly impregnated with salt.  The surface of the plain was in a great measure covered with a white efflorescence.  Along the middle of this plain there was a sunken channel of a mile and a half in length, occupied by an overflowing of the Dead Sea, which, however, did not interfere with our track.

At the end of this, and on approaching the corner of the salt mountain, we had an incident to enliven the tediousness of the hot journey.  A party of Arabs came in sight.  Our men discovered them first, and running forwards, primed their guns, or lighted the match of the lock, drew their swords and screamed, making bare the right arm, as if prepared for awful deeds.  The others took up position behind low rocks, unslung their fire-arms, and screamed not.  Presently a real or fictitious recognition took place, the guns on both sides were fired up in the air, and swords were brandished for very joy.  Both parties rushed into each other’s embraces, smiling and kissing with the greatest fervour.

The two parties soon separated, taking opposite directions.

As we were close upon the western side, there was the southern end of the Dead Sea at our right hand, coming up imperceptibly upon the land, flush with it, so that no limit could be distinguished between water and the wet beach.

At a few minutes past one we all alighted before the large cavern which runs into the heart of the salt mountain; and a picturesque group our party formed, spread about in some shade of the hill, with a great variety of costumes and colours—the camels kneeling and the horses picketed upon the bay of the sea of Sodom and Gomorrah.

Entering the cavern, we found relics of the recent French expedition thither, under M. de Saulcy, such as egg-shells and torn paper coverings of candles, with French shopkeepers’ names upon them.  We did not penetrate far inwards, but could see traces of occasional overflowings of the lake into the interior.

As for Lot’s wife,—the pillar of salt, mentioned and portrayed by the American expedition in 1848, and of which it is said they took a fragment for a museum at home,—after a good deal of search, we only discovered a crooked thin spire of rock-salt in one place of the mountain; but it would not have been very remarkable if many such had been found to exist in similar circumstances.

Some morsels of bitumen were found upon the beach; but the principal season of the year for finding it is in winter, especially at the commencement of winter, when the lake becomes unusually agitated, and breaks off masses of it from the bottom, often of very large size—the peasants of Hebron, with exaggeration, say, “As large as ships;” but I have seen many camel-loads of it brought up to Jerusalem at a time, for export to Europe.  It is, however, a monopoly of the crown.

We should note that in Gen. xiv. 10, the district was full of bitumen pits previous to the overthrow of the cities of the plain.

At twenty minutes to three we came to a rude heap of stones called Zoghal or Zoghar.  This cannot well be Zoar, among other reasons, because it lies upon the beach, and is not upon an eminence.  It is well to mention that M. de Saulcy’s extravagant ideas of the Pentapolis of Sodom, etc., had not then been published.

There can be no doubt that the Arabic name, Usdum, is identical with Sodom, by a well-known custom of the language to invert the consonant and vowel of the first syllable.  But even this is brought back to the original state in the adjective form.  Thus I heard our guides speak of the Jebel Sid’mi, meaning the Khash’m or Jebel Usdum, or promontory of Sodom.

The Wadi Netheeleh comes up from the southwest to the shore at this northern end of the mountain, parallel to the Wadi Hhuggereh at the southern end.

We kept along the sea-side, and on rising to a higher level, near five o’clock, halted for the night at the mouth of a valley where some water was to be procured, and near us was a broken tower.  This site is named Mobugghek or Umm-Bugghek.  As we were scarcely out of the reach of the Ghawârineh Arabs, our people had to go out in armed detachments for collecting firewood.

While we rambled on the beach in search of bitumen or sulphur, we suddenly heard a furious screaming in the direction of our tents, and hastily returning, found a number of strangers coming down a winding path.  Our men were gathered together, and armed.  The captain also examined the state of his double-barrelled pistols.  However, on their arrival, the newcomers were recognised as people not hostile to the Jehâleen, and their general location is near ’Ain ’Aroos.  So, after some squabbling and arrangement, they agreed to share our supper with us in peace.  Had the case been otherwise, our position was not an enviable one; for we were shut in between their hills and the sea, they were more numerous than our Arabs, and they had entire command of our spring of water.  Our camels, too, were all unloaded, and the packages scattered on the ground.

It deserves observation, that now the sea is so utterly lifeless that the American explorers there were unable, by the most powerful microscopes, to find any animalculæ in its water.  Yet Lynch was of opinion that the atmosphere or vapour there was not in any way prejudicial to human health; and since then, Mr Holman Hunt spent a considerable time near the brink without injury derived from it.

The air was very warm all night, with no freshening dew, and the sound of slow, rippling water on the strand, during the still starlight hours, was one to which our ears had not been of late accustomed.

The Arab figures and conversation round the watch-fire were romantic enough.  Thermometer at eight p.m., 90½° Fahrenheit.

At half-past nine we were in front of Sebbeh, with a view of the ruins of Masada on its summit, to which, however, we did not climb, but contented ourselves with recalling to memory the heroic events of the Jewish defenders, as related by Josephus.  Here the sea, retiring towards our side, forms a semicircular bay, terminating at ’Ain Jidi, (Engeddi,) where we arrived at two o’clock.  There we were at a considerable elevation above the shore, which we now abandoned, not only because all further advance in that direction is impracticable, but because our route towards Jerusalem lay in a different direction.

We were upon a platform abounding in springs of water and luxuriant neglected vegetation.  The pleasure derived from the sound of gushing streams can only be appreciated by those who have been in our circumstances.  The contrast is not to be understood merely from words laid before a reader, between this and the dry wilderness of Edom or the salt beach of Sodom.  One of our camels not only drank his fill, but rolled himself in the water.

The streams abound in petrifactions of vegetation, which would show that the water cannot be very wholesome for drinking.  A monster crab was brought us out of a channel; my horse in drinking had been startled at the sight of it.

There were traces of buildings about the place, such as foundations of walls almost razed to the ground, and one broken tower.

But the prospect eastwards, including the peninsula, and the mountains and huge crevasses of Moab, or southwards, including Sebbeh and the Salt mountain, are magnificent beyond expression.  We could not be sure that Mount Hor was distinguishable.  At a quarter past three, and under shade of trees, the thermometer was at 86° Fahrenheit.

After considerable repose and some feeding there, we prepared for the remaining ascent, called by our people “The Ladder of Terâbeh.”  This was a very toilsome climbing of near two hours up a nearly perpendicular cliff, by means of curves and zigzags turning away four or five yards.  Most of the way we were dismounted, but still the horses and camels were greatly distressed by the effort of the ascent.  At first the camel-drivers sang to cheer their animals.  This, however, dwindled into occasional prolonged notes, which again were deteriorated into groans instead of music.

Reached the summit at half-past four, and after an hour’s progress upon level ground, we halted for the night.  Poor old Selâmeh fell down flat, not so much from the effect of mere fatigue, as from having had his ankle bitten by a spiteful camel in the morning, and then the long climbing in addition.

This was to be our last night together, and we enjoyed to the utmost the social gathering round the bivouac fire with our Arab companions, to whom, after ten days association, to the exclusion of all the rest of the world, we could not but feel something of temporary personal attachment.  There was Selâmeh, with his mended shoe and his bitten ankle, who had been our officer and diplomatist, ready for fun or a row at any minute; ’Odeh the champion, called out upon emergencies; Khamees, the slave boy, a general domestic, if this latter word may be allowed for a Bedawi Arab; and Salem the merry-man, short in stature, and drawing into the vale of years.  We chatted over the fire about the events of the expedition, while some of the men were kneading and baking fresh bread upon stones made hot in the fire.

As for religion: they seem to have little or no sense of its responsibility or benefit, or even its formalities.  I asked Selâmeh about prayers or reading, and all he had to say was that annually in Ramadan they hire a reader from some mosque of a town to come and read the Korân to them; but not one, not even Abu Dahook could read for himself.  I never heard these Jehâleen mention either the word Moslem or Ghiaour, much less the technical words Mushrakeen or Seerat el Mustakeem.  Thermometer at sunset, 79¼° Fahrenheit.

April 11th.—Our camels were loaded for the last time, as usual grunting, groaning, and tossing the head backwards while the burdens were placed upon them, and, as must be known to all desert travellers, the smell exhaled from these animals after a long journey is particularly disagreeable.

We were marching forward at half-past five, and in an hour and a half we caught a distant view of our old familiar Frank mountain, which was lost again afterwards.  About ten o’clock, we saw in a valley at our left an encampment of Saïr Arabs; and soon afterwards in a valley at our right, a circle of the Ta’amri tents.  In another hour we arrived at a square enclosure of very large ancient stones, which was denominated ’Arkoob Sahâba.  The breezes on this high land were most refreshing after our southern excursion.

Then we approached the well-remembered fragrance of the wild herbs on the uncultivated hills about Urtas and Bethlehem, redolent of homeward associations, and between two and three o’clock were at Jerusalem, grateful for special and numerous mercies of Divine Providence.

Jewish friends were much interested in my report of Aaron’s tomb on Mount Hor, and regarded it as a great achievement to have visited and returned from “Joktheel,” as they called Petra, in compliance with 2 Kings xiv. 7, where King Amaziah restored its more ancient name from Selah, (see Joshua xv. 38.)

* * * * *

In conclusion of this expedition to Petra, I have a few observations to make, arising from local peculiarities connected with it.

A.  On the payment of toll, or Ghuf’r, as it is termed, for traversing unfrequented districts.

But some considerations may serve to show that there is, after all, something useful in the practice.

1.  In such countries, the payment of this toll exempts the traveller from the violence of all other claimants.

2.  Those who get the toll, (I speak now of Palestine,) are always ready to perform small services in return, which would be assuredly missed if omitted, independently of the price paid for hire of camels.

3.  If there were a better government existing, the traveller would expect that government to provide good roads and bridges, and to establish military posts for guarding them.  This expense would be defrayed from tolls, or some such mode of taxation, and so the fee or duty would be only removed from one receiver to another.  This is done at present, and probably has been for many centuries, at the Jis’r benât Ya’koob, between Safed and Damascus.