We received a friendly welcome from a gigantic negro, and were at once shown into a large room, with windows high up near the roof, and a door opening into the courtyard, around three sides of which the house was built; while the fourth was enclosed with a wall the height of the building, with a strong iron-clad door—everything, apparently, being arranged with a view to security. An official, said to be the lawyer or secretary of the establishment, politely vacated the guest-room on our behalf. Our saddle-bags were brought in, and, well content with shelter and the prospect of food, we prepared to make our arrangements for the night, our room being already not ill-furnished, all things considered, with a large rush mat and a lamp. Our host, however, proposed further hospitalities. We were well supplied with water, then with a charcoal stove for heating our soup, and finally with excellent and spotlessly clean bedding. The arrival of guests at so late an hour proved somewhat disturbing to the domestic animals housed in the courtyard, who crowed, and quacked, and barked, and mewed, according to their nature. Khalil came in to say good-night, the Bedu to be paid, the gigantic negro to inquire after our comfort, various black and white cats to solicit alms; but finally all was quiet, and we had not long to wait for sleep.

We were up betimes next morning, and enjoyed an early toilet beside the Fâria, not without a passing thought of pity for friends in England, and the different conditions which would make it less attractive there to rise at half-past five on the 10th of January, and bathe in a mountain stream. We were in the rich oasis of Karâwa, the Koreæ of Josephus, famous in ancient times for the finest sugar-canes known. Westward rose the great peak of the Karn Sartabeh, towering 2227 feet above us, although only 1243 feet above sea-level. This was one of the chain of peaks upon which, in old times (according to the Talmud), beacon fires were lighted at the time of the new moon, especially to proclaim the harvest and thanksgiving festivals. The top is covered with ruins, which, with much else in this practically unknown district, we hope some time to explore thoroughly.

In a Syrian Saddle — Part 139