Chapter XXIII: Part 23

[p.573] the names of several European travellers, and among others that of the unfortunate M. Boutin, a French officer of engineers, who passed here in 1811.[M. Boutin came to Egypt from Zante; he first made a journey to the cataracts of Assouan, and then went to Bosseir, where he hired a ship for Mokha, but on reaching Yembo, Tousoun Pasha, the son of Mohammed Ali, would not permit him to proceed, he therefore returned to Suez, after visiting the convent of Sinai, and its neighbouring mountains. After his return to Cairo, he went to Siwah, to examine the remains of the temple of Jupiter Ammon, carrying with him a small boat built at Cairo, for the purpose of exploring the lake and the island in it, mentioned by Browne. He experienced great vexations from the inhabitants of Siwah; and the boat was of no use to him, owing to the shallowness of the lake, so that after a residence of three days at the Oasis, where he seems to have made no discoveries, he returned to Cairo in the company of some Augila merchants. On his way he passed the wood of petrified date trees discovered by Horneman; his route, I believe, was to the south of that of Horneman, and nearer the lesser Oasis. I had the pleasure of seeing him upon his return from Siwah, when I first arrived at Cairo. He remained two years in Egypt, and then continued his travels towards Syria, where he met with his death in 1816, in the mountainous district of the Nosayris, west of Hamah, having imprudently exposed himself with a great deal of baggage, in company only of his interpreter and servant, and without any native guide, to the robbers of that infamous tribe. He was a lover of truth, and a man of observation and enterprize; the public, therefore, and his own government, have to regret his death no less than his friends.] From this elevated peak a very extensive view opened before us, and the direction of the different surroundings chains of mountains could be distinctly traced. The upper nucleus of the Sinai, composed almost entirely of granite, forms a rocky wilderness of all irregular circular shape, intersected by many narrow valleys, and from thirty to forty miles in diameter. It contains the highest mountains of the peninsula, whose shaggy and pointed peaks and steep and shattered sides, render it clearly distinguishable from all the rest of the country in view. It is upon this highest region of the peninsula that the fertile valleys are found, which produce fruit trees; they are principally to the west and south-west of the convent at three or four hours distant.

[p.574] Water too is always found in plenty in this district, on which account it is the place of refuge of all the Bedouins when the low country is parched up. I think it very probable that this upper country or wilderness is, exclusively, the desert of Sinai so often mentioned in the account of the wanderings of the Israelites. Mount St. Catherine appears to stand nearly in the centre of it. To the northward of this central region, and divided from it by the broad valley called Wady El Sheikh, and by several minor Wadys, begins a lower range of mountains, called Zebeir, which extends eastwards, having at one extremity the two peaks called El Djoze [Arabic], above the plantations of Wady Feiran, and losing itself to the east in the more open country towards Wady Sal. Beyond the Zebeir northwards are sandy plains and valleys, which I crossed, towards the west, at Raml el Moral, and towards the east, about Hadhra.This part i[s] the most barren and destitute of water of the whole country. At its eastern extremity it is called El Birka [Arabic]. It borders to the north on the chain of El Tyh, which stretches in a regular line eastwards, parallel with the Zebeir, beginning at Sarbout el Djeinel. On reaching, in its eastern course, the somewhat higher mountain called El Odjme [Arabic], it separates into two; one of its branches turns off in a right angle northward, and after continuing for about fifteen miles in that direction, again turns to the east, and extends parallel with the second and southern branch all across the peninsula, towards the eastern gulf. The northern branch, which is called El Dhelel [Arabic], bounds the view from Mount St. Catherine. On turning to the east, I found that the mountains in this direction, beyond the high district of Sinai, run in a lower range towards the Wady Sal, and that the slope of the upper mountains is much less abrupt than on the opposite side. From Sal, east and north-east, the chains intersect each other in many irregular masses

[p.575] of inferior height, till they reach the gulf of Akaba, which I clearly distinguished when the sun was just rising over the mountains of the Arabian coast. Excepting the short extent from Noweyba to Dahab, the mountains bordering on the gulf are all of secondary height, but they rise to a considerable elevation between those two points. The country between Sherm, Nabk, and the convent, is occupied also by mountains of minor size, and the valleys, generally, are so narrow, that few of them can be distinguished from the point where I stood, the whole country, in that direction, appearing an uninterrupted wilderness of barren mountains. The highest points on that side appear to be above Wady Kyd, above the valley of Naszeb, and principally the peaks called Om Kheysyn [Arabic] and Masaoud [Arabic].

The view to the south was bounded by the high mountain of Om Shomar [Arabic], which forms a nucleus of itself, apparently unconnected with the upper Sinai, although bordering close upon it. To the right of this mountain I could distinguish the sea, in the neighbourhood of Tor, near which begins a low calcareous chain of mountains, called Djebel Hemam (i.e. death), not Hamam (or bath), extending along the gulf of Suez, and separated from the upper Sinai by a broad gravelly plain called El Kaa [Arabic], across which the road from Tor to Suez passes. This plain terminates to the W.N.W. of Mount St. Catherine, and nearly in the direction of Djebel Serbal. Towards the Kaa, the central Sinai mountains are very abrupt, and leave no secondary intermediate chain between them and the plain at their feet. The mountain of Serbal, which I afterwards visited, is separated from the upper Sinai by some valleys, especially Wady Hebran, and it forms, with several neighbouring mountains, a separate cluster terminating in peaks, the highest of which appears to be as high as Mount St. Catherine. It borders on the Wady Feiran and the chain of Zebeir.

[p.576] I took the following bearings, from the summit of Mount St. Catherine. These, together with those which I took from the peak of Om Shomar and from Serbal, and the distances and direction of my different routes, will serve to construct a map of the peninsula more detailed and accurate than any that has yet been published.

El Djoze [Arabic], a rock distinguished by two peaks above that part of Wady Feiran where the date groves are, N.W. b. N.

Sarbout el Djemel [Arabic], the beginning of Djebel Tyh, N.W. 1/4 N.

El Odjme, N. 1/2 E.

El Fereya, a high mountain of the upper Sinai region, N.N.E.

Zelka is in the same direction of N.N.E. It is a well, about one days journey from the convent, on the upper route from the convent to Akaba, which traverses the chain of Tyh. The stations in that road, beyond Zelka, are, Ayn [Arabic], Hossey [Arabic], and Akaba. The bearing of Ayn was pointed out to me N.E. b. N.

The mountain over El Hadhra, a well which I passed on my road to Akaba, N.E. 1/2 E.

Senned, a secondary mountain between the upper Sinai and Hadhra, bordering upon Wady Sal; extends from E.N.E. to N.E.

Noweyba, E. We could not see the sea shore at Noweyba, but the high mountains over it were very conspicuous.

Wady Naszeb, on the northern road from Sherm to the convent, extended in a direction S.E. to E.S.E.

Dahab, on the eastern gulf, E.S.E.

Djebel Masaoud, a high mountain on the borders of the upper Sinai, S.E. b. E.

Wady Kyd, and the mountain over it, S.E.

The Island of Tyran, S.S.E. 1/2 E.

[p.577] Om Kheysyn [Arabic], a high mountain between Sherm and the Sinai, S. 1/4 E.

The direction of Sherm was pointed out to me, a little to the eastward of south.

Djebel Thomman [Arabic], a high peak, belonging to the mountains of Om Shomar, a little distant from the Sinai, S.

The peak of Om Shomar, S.S.W.

El Koly [Arabic], a high peak of the upper Sinai, S.W. ½ S. At its foot passes the road from the convent to Tor.

The direction of Tor was pointed out to me S.W. The rocks of the upper Sinai, which constitute the borders of it in that direction, are called El Sheydek [Arabic].

El Nedhadhyh [Arabic], mountains likewise on the skirts of the upper Sinai, W. 1/4 S. Madsous [Arabic], another peak of the upper Sinai, W. 1/4 N.

Serbal, N.W. 1/2 W. The well El Morkha, lying near the Birket Faraoun, in the common road from Tor to Suez, is in the same direction.

Om Dhad [Arabic], N.W. This is the head of a Wady, called Wady Kebryt, on the outside of the Sinai chain.

Of the upper Sinai, the peaks of Djebel Mousa, of St. Catherine, of Om Thoman, of Koly, and of Fereya are the highest.

In making the preceding observations I was obliged to take out my compass and pencil, which greatly surprised the Arabs, who, seeing me in an Arab dress, and speaking their language, yet having the same pursuits as the Frank travellers whom they had seen here, were quite at a loss what to make of me. The suspicion was immediately excited, that I had ascended this mountain to practise some enchantment, and it was much increased by my further proceedings. The Bedouins supposed that I had come to carry off the rain, and my return to Cairo was, in consequence, much less agreeable than my journey from thence; indeed I might have been subjected to

EL LEDJA

[p.578] some unpleasant occurrences had not the faithful Hamd been by my side, who in the route back was of more service to me than all the Firmahns of the Pasha could have been.

We returned from Mount St. Catherine to the place where we had passed the night, and breakfasted with the Djebalye, for which payment was asked, and readily given. The conveying of pilgrims is one of the few modes of subsistence which these poor people possess, and at a place where strangers are continually passing, gratuitous hospitality is not to be expected from them, though they might be ready to afford it to the helpless traveller. The two days excursion to the holy places cost me about forty piastres, or five dollars.

Before mid-day we had again reached the convent El Erbayn, in the garden of which I passed a most agreeable afternoon. The verdure was so brilliant and the blossoms of the orange trees diffused so fine a perfume that I was transported in imagination from the barren cliffs of the wilderness to the luxurious groves of Antioch. It is surprising that the Europeans resident at Cairo do not prefer spending the season of the plague in these pleasant gardens, and this delightful climate, to remaining close prisoners in the infected city.

We returned in the evening to the convent, by following to the northward the valley in which the Erbayn stands. This valley is very narrow, and extremely stony, many large blocks having rolled from the mountains into it; it is called El Ledja [Arabic], a name given to a similar rocky district, described by me, in the Haouran. At twenty minutes walk from the Erbayn we passed a block of granite, said to be the rock out of which the water issued when struck by the rod of Moses. It lies quite insulated by the side of the path, which is about ten feet higher than the lowest bottom of the valley. The rock is about twelve feet in height, of an irregular shape approaching to a cube. There are some apertures upon its surface, through which the water is said to have burst out; they are

[p.579] about twenty in number, and lie nearly in a straight line round the three sides of the stone. They are for the most part ten or twelve inches long, two or three inches broad, and from one to two inches deep, but a few of them are as deep as four inches. Every observer must be convinced, on the slightest examination, that most of these fissures are the work of art, but three or four perhaps are natural, and these may have first drawn the attention of the monks to the stone, and have induced them to call it the rock of the miraculous supply of water. Besides the marks of art evident in the holes themselves, the spaces between them have been chiselled, so as to make it appear as if the stone had been worn in those parts by the action of the water; though it cannot be doubted, that if water had flowed from the fissures it must generally have taken quite a different direction. One traveller saw on this stone twelve openings, answering to the number of the tribes of Israel; [Breydenbach.] another [Sicard, Mémoires des Missions.] describes the holes as a foot deep. They were probably told so by the monks, and believed what they heard rather than what they saw.

About one hundred and fifty paces farther on in the valley lies another piece of rock, upon which it seems that the work of deception was first begun, there being four or five apertures cut in it, similar to those on the other block, but in a less finished state; as it is somewhat smaller than the former, and lies in a less conspicuous part of the valley, removed from the public path, the monks probably thought proper in process of time to assign the miracle to the other. As the rock of Moses has been described by travellers of the fifteenth century, the deception must have originated among the monks of an earlier period. As to the present inhabitants of the convent and of the peninsula, they must be acquitted of any fraud respecting it, for they conscientiously believe that it is the very rock from whence the water gushed forth. In this part of

[p.580] the peninsula the Israelites could not have suffered from thirst: the upper Sinai is full of wells and springs, the greater part of which are perennial; and on whichever side the pretended rock of Moses is approached, copious sources are found within a quarter of an hour of it. The rock is greatly venerated by the Bedouins, who put grass into the fissures, as offerings to the memory of Moses, in the same manner as they place grass upon the tombs of their saints, because grass is to them the most precious gift of nature, and that upon which their existence chiefly depends. They also bring hither their female camels, for they believe that by making the animal couch down before the rock, while they recite some prayers, and by putting fresh grass into the fissures of the stone, the camels will become fertile, and yield an abundance of milk. The superstition is encouraged by the monks, who rejoice to see the infidel Bedouins venerating the same object with themselves.

Those who should attempt to weaken the faith of the monks and their visitors respecting this rock, would be now almost as blameable as the original authors of the imposture; for, such is the ignorance of the oriental Christians, and the impossibility of their obtaining any salutary instruction under the Turkish government, that were their faith in such miracles completely shaken, their religion would soon be entirely overthrown, and they would be left to wander in all the darkness of Atheism. It is curious to observe the blindness with which Christians as well as Turks believe in the pretended miracles of those who are interested in deceiving them. There is hardly a town in Syria or Egypt, where the Moslems have not a living saint, who works wonders, which the whole population is ready to attest as eye-witnesses. When I was at Damascus in 1812, some Christians returned thither from Jerusalem, where they had been to celebrate Easter. Some striking miracles said to have been performed by the Pope during his imprisonment at Savona, and which had been industriously propagated by the

[p.581] Latin priests in Syria, seem to have suggested to them the design of imitating his Holiness: the returning pilgrims unanimously declared, that when the Spanish priest of the convent of the Holy Sepulchre read the mass on Easter Sunday or Monday, upon the Mount of Olives, the whole assembled congregation saw him rise, while behind the altar, two or three feet in the air, and support himself in that position for several minutes, in giving the people his blessing. If any Christian of Damascus had expressed his doubts of the truth of this story, the monks of the convent there would have branded him with the epithet of Framasoun (Freemason), which among the Syrian Christians is synonymous with Atheist, and he would for ever have lost his character among his brethren.

A little farther down than the rock above described is shewn the seat of Moses, where it is said that he often sat; it is a small and apparently natural excavation in a granite rock, resembling a chair. Near this is the petrified pot or kettle of Moses [Arabic], a name given to a circular projecting knob in a rock, similar in size and shape to the lid of a kettle. The Arabs have in vain endeavoured to break this rock, which they suppose to contain great treasures.

As we proceeded from the rock of the miraculous supply of water along the valley El Ledja, I saw upon several blocks of granite, whose smooth sides were turned towards the path, inscriptions similar to those at Naszeb; the following were the most legible:

1. Upon a small block: [not included]

2. [not included]

[p.582]

3. [not included] There are many effaced lines on this block.

4. Upon a rock near the stone of Moses: [not included]

5. Upon a block close to the above: [not included]

6. [not included]

7. Upon the rock called the Pot: [not included]

8. Upon a large insulated block of granite: [not included]

EL BOSTAN

[p.583] It is to be observed, that none of these inscriptions are found higher up the valley than the water rock, being all upon blocks on the way from thence to the convent, which seems to be a strong proof, that they were inscribed by those persons only who came from the convent or from Cairo, to visit the rock, and not by pilgrims in their way to the mountain of Moses or of St. Catherine, who would undoubtedly have left some record farther up the valley, and more particularly upon the sides and summits of the mountains themselves: but I could there find no inscriptions whatever, although I examined the ground closely, and saw many smooth blocks by the road, very suitable to such inscriptions.

At forty minutes walk from Erbayn, where the valley El Ledja opens into the broad valley which leads eastwards to the convent, is a fine garden, with the ruins of a small convent, called El Bostan; water is conducted into it by a small channel from a spring in the Ledja. It was full of apricot trees, and roses in full blossom. A few Djebalye live here and take care of the garden. From hence to the convent is half an hour; in the way is shewn the head of the golden calf, which the Israelites worshipped, transmuted into stone. It is somewhat singular that both the monks and the Bedouins call it the cows head (Ras el Bakar), and not the calfs, confounding it, perhaps, with the red heifer, of which the Old Testament and the Koran speak. It is a stone half-buried in the ground, and bears some resemblance to the forehead of a cow. Some travellers have explained this stone to be the mould in which Aaron cast the calf, though it is not hollow but projecting; the Arabs and monks however gravely assured me that it was the cows head itself. Beyond this object, towards the convent, a hill is pointed out to the left, called Djebel Haroun, because it is believed to be the spot where Aaron assembled the seventy elders of Israel. Both this and the cows head have evidently received these denominations from

CONVENT OF MOUNT SINAI

[p.584] the monks and Bedouins, in order that they may multiply the objects of veneration and curiosity within the pilgrims tour round the convent.

On my return to the convent I could not help expressing to several of the monks my surprise at the metamorphosis of a calf into a cow, and of an idol of gold into stone; but I found that they were too little read in the books of Moses to understand even this simple question, and I therefore did not press the subject. I believe there is not a single individual amongst them, who has read the whole of the Old Testament; nor do I think that among eastern Christians in general there is one in a thousand, of those who can read, that has ever taken that trouble. They content themselves, in general, with their prayer-books, liturgies, and histories of saints; few of them read the gospels, though more do so in Syria than in Egypt; the reading of the whole of the scripture is discountenanced by the clergy; the wealthy seldom have the inclination to prosecute the study of the Holy writings, and no others are able to procure a manuscript copy of the Bible, or one printed in the two establishments in Mount Libanus. The well meant endeavours of the Bible Society in England to supply them with printed copies of the Scriptures in Arabic, if not better directed than they have hitherto been, will produce very little effect in these countries. The cost of such a copy, trifling as it may seem in England, is a matter of importance to the poor Christians of the east; the Society has, besides, chosen a version which is not current in the east, where the Roman translation alone is acknowledged by the Clergy, who easily make their flocks believe that the Scriptures have been interpolated by the Protestants. It would, perhaps, have been better if the Society, in the beginning at least, had furnished the eastern Christians with cheap copies of the Gospels and Psalms only, which being the books chiefly in use among them in manuscript,

[p.585] would have been not only useful to them, but more approved of by the directors of their consciences, than the entire Scripture. Upon Mohammedans, it is vain to expect that the reading of the present Arabic version of the Bible should make the slightest impression. If any of them were brought to conquer their inherent aversion to the book, they could not read a page in it without being tired and disgusted with its style. In the Koran they possess the purest and most elegant composition in their language, the rhythmical prose of which, exclusive of the sacred light in which they hold it, is alone sufficient to make a strong impression upon them. The Arabic of the greater part of the Bible, on the contrary, and especially that of the Gospels, is in the very worst style; the books of Moses and the Psalms are somewhat better. Grammatical rules, it is true, are observed, and chosen terms are sometimes employed; but the phraseology and whole construction is generally contrary to the spirit of the language, and so uncouth, harsh, affected, and full of foreign idioms, that no Musselman scholar would be tempted to prosecute the study of it, and a few only would thoroughly understand it. In style and phraseology it differs from the Koran more than the monkish Latin from the orations of Cicero.

I will not take upon me to declare how far the Roman and the Societys Arabic translation of the Old Testament are defective, being unable to read the original Hebrew text; but I can affirm that they both disagree, in many instances, from the English translation. The Christians of the East, who will seldom read any book written by a Moslem, and to whom an accurate knowledge of Arabic and of the best writers in that language are consequently unknown, are perfectly satisfied with the style of the Roman version which is in use among them; it is for the sake of perusing it that they undertake a grammatical study of the Arabic language, and their priests and

[p.586] learned men usually make it the model of their own style; they would be unwilling therefore to admit any other translation; and there is not, at present, either in Syria or in Egypt any Christian priest so bold and so learned as Bishop Germanus Ferhat of Aleppo, who openly expressed his dislike of this translation, and had declared his intention of altering it himself, for which, and other reasons, he was branded with the epithet of heretic. For Arab Christians, therefore, the Roman translation will not easily be superseded, and if Mussulmans are to be tempted to study the Scriptures, they must be clothed in more agreeable language, than that which has lately been presented to them, for they are the last people upon whom precepts conveyed in rude language will have any effect.

In the present state of western Asia, however, the conversion of Mohammedans is very difficult; I have heard only of one instance during the last century, and the convert was immediately shipped off to Europe. On the other hand, should an European power ever obtain a firm footing in Egypt, it is probable that many years would not elapse before thousands of Moslems would profess Christianity; not from the dictates of their conscience or judgment, but from views of worldly interest.

I was cordially greeted on my return to the convent, by the monks and the fatherly Ikonómos, one of the best-natured churchmen I have met with in the East. The safe return of pilgrims from the holy mountains is always a subject of gratulation, so great is their dread of the Arabs. I rested the following day in the convent, where several Greeks from Tor and Suez had arrived; being friends of the monks, they were invited in the evening to the private apartments of the latter, where they were plied so bountifully with brandy that they all retired tipsy to bed.

Several Bedouins had acquainted me that a thundering noise,

WADY OWASZ

[p.587] like repeated discharges of heavy artillery, is heard at times in these mountains; and they all affirmed that it came from Om Shomar. The monks corroborated the story, and even positively asserted that they had heard the sound about mid-day, five years ago, describing it in the same manner as the Bedouins. The same noise had been heard in more remote times, and the Ikonómos, who has lived here forty years, told me that he remembered to have heard the noise at four or five separate periods. I enquired whether any shock of an earthquake had ever been felt on such occasions, but was answered in the negative. Wishing to ascertain the truth, I prepared to visit the mountain of Om Shomar.

As I had lost much of the confidence of the Bedouins by writing upon the mountains, and could not intimidate them by shewing a passport from the Pasha, I kept my intended journey secret, and concerting matters with Hamd and two Djebalye, I was let down from the window of the convent a little before midnight on the 23rd of May, and found my guides well armed and in readiness below. We proceeded by Wady Sebaye, the same road I had come from Sherm. In this Wady, tradition says, the Israelites gained the victory over the Amalekites, which was obtained by the holding up of the hands of Moses (Ex. xvii. 12.), but this battle was fought in Raphidim, where the water gushed out from the rock, a situation which appears to have been to the westward of the convent, on the approach from the gulf of Suez.

I was much disappointed at being able to trace so very few of the ancient Hebrew names of the Old Testament in the modern names of the peninsula; but it is evident that, with the exception of Sinai and a few others, they are all of Arabic derivation.

On a descent from the summit of Wady Sebaye, at an hour and a half from the convent, we turned to the right from the road to Sherm, and entered Wady Owasz [Arabic], in a direction

WADY RAHABA

[p.588] S. b. W. I found here a small chain of white and red sand-stone hills in the midst of granite. The morning was so very cold that we were obliged to stop and light a fire, round which we sat till sunrise; my feet and hands were absolutely benumbed, for neither gloves or stockings are in fashion among Bedouins. We continued in the valley, crossing several hills, till at four hours and a half we reached Wady Rahaba [Arabic], in the lower parts of which we had passed a very rainy night on the 17th. Rahaba is one of the principal valleys on this side of the peninsula; it is broad, and affords good pasturage. We halted under a granite rock in the middle of it, close by about a dozen small buildings, which are called by the Bedouins Makhsen (magazines), and which serve them as a place of deposit for their provision, clothes, money, &c. As Bedouins are continually moving about, they find it inconvenient to carry with them what they do not constantly want; they therefore leave whatever they have not immediate need of in these magazines, to which they repair as occasion requires. Almost every Bedouin in easy circumstances has one of them; I have met with them in several parts of the mountains, always in clusters of ten or twenty together. They are at most ten feet high, generally about ten or twelve feet square, constructed with loose stones, covered with the trunks of date trees, and closed with a wooden door and lock. These buildings are altogether so slight, and the doors so insecure, that a stone would be sufficient to break them open; no watchmen are left to guard them, and they are in such solitary spots that they might easily be plundered in the night, without the thief being ever discovered. But such is the good faith of the Towara towards each other, that robberies of this kind are almost unheard of; and their Sheikh Szaleh, whose magazine is well known to contain fine dresses, shawls, and dollars, considers his property as safe there as it would be in the best

OM SHOMAR

[p.589] secured building in a large town. The Towara are well entitled to pride themselves on this trait in their character; for I found nothing similar to it among other Bedouins. The only instance upon record of a magazine having been plundered among them, is that mentioned in page 475, for which the robbers own father inflicted the punishment of death.

We continued our route in a side branch of the Rababa, till at the end of five hours and a half, we ascended a mountain, and then descended into a narrow valley, or rather cleft, between the rocks, called Bereika [Arabic]. The camel which I rode not being able to proceed farther on account of the rocky road, I left it here in charge of one of the Djebalye. This part of Sinai was completely parched up, no rain having fallen in it during the last winter. W.S.W. from hence, on entering a narrow pass called Wady Zereigye [Arabic], we found the ground moist, there being a small well, but almost dried up; it would have cost us some time to dig it up to obtain water, which no longer rose above the surface, though it still maintained some verdure around it. This defile was thickly overgrown with fennel, three or four feet high; the Bedouins eat the stalks raw, and pretend that it cools the blood. Farther down we came to two copious springs, most picturesquely situated among the rocks, being overshaded by large wild fig-trees, a great number of which grow in other parts of this district. We descended the Zereigye by windings, and at the end of eight hours reached its lowest extremity, where it joins a narrow valley extending along the foot of Om Shomar, the almost perpendicular cliffs of which now stood before us. The country around is the wildest I had yet seen in these mountains; the devastations of torrents are every where visible, the sides of the mountains being rent by them in numberless directions; the surface of the sharp rocks is blackened by the sun; all vegetation is dry and withered; and the whole

[p.590] scene presents nothing but utter desolation and hopeless barrenness.

We ascended S.E. in the valley of Shomar, winding round the foot of the mountain for about an hour, till we reached the well of Romhan [Arabic], at nine hours from the convent, where we rested. This is a fine spring; high grass grows in the narrow pass near it, with several date-trees and a gigantic fig-tree. Just above the well, on the side of the mountain, are the ruins of a convent, called Deir Antous; it was inhabited in the beginning of the last century, and according to the monks, it was the last convent abandoned by them. I found it mentioned in records of the fifteenth century in the convent; it was then one of the principal settlements, and caravans of asses laden with corn and other provisions passed by this place regularly from the convent to Tor, for this is the nearest road to that harbour, though it is more difficult than the more western route, which is now usually followed. The convent consisted of a small solid building, constructed with blocks of granite. I was told that date plantations are found higher up in the valley of Romhan, and that the monks formerly had their gardens there, of which some of the fruit trees still remain.

May 24th.Early this morning I took Hamd with me to climb the Om Shomar, while the other man went with his gun in pursuit of some mountain-goats which he had seen yesterday at sunset upon the summit of a neighbouring mountain; he was accompanied by another Djebalye, whom we had met by chance. I had promised them a good reward if they should kill a goat, for I did not wish to have them near me, when examining the rocks upon the mountain. It took me an hour and a half to reach the top of Shomar, and I employed three hours in visiting separately all the surrounding heights, but I could no where find the slightest traces of a volcano, or of any volcanic productions, which I have not observed in any part of

[p.591] the upper Sinai. Om Shomar consists of granite, the lower stratum is red, that at the top is almost white, so as to appear from a distance like chalk; this arises from the large proportion of white feldspath in it, and the smallness of the particles of hornblende and mica. In the middle of the mountain, between the granite rocks, I found broad strata of brittle black slate, mixed with layers of quartz and feldspath, and with micaceous schistus. The quartz includes thin strata of mica of the most brilliant white colour, which is quite dazzling in the sun, and forms a striking contrast with the blackened surface of the slate and red granite.

The mountain of Om Shomar rises to a sharp-pointed peak, the highest summit of which, it is, I believe, impossible to reach; the sides being almost perpendicular, and the rock so smooth, as to afford no hold to the foot. I halted at about two hundred feet below it, where a beautiful view opened upon the sea of Suez, and the neighbourhood of Tor, which place was distinctly visible; at our feet extended the wide plain El Kaa. The southern side of this mountain is very abrupt, and there is no secondary chain, like those on the descent from Sinai to the sea, in every other direction. I have already mentioned the low chain called Hemam, which separates the Kaa from the gulf of Suez. In this chain, about five hours from Tor, northward, is the Djebel Nakous, or mountain of the Bell. On its side next the sea a mass of very fine sand, which has collected there, rushes down at times, and occasions a hollow sound, of which the Bedouins relate many stories; they compare it to the ringing of bells, and a fable is repeated among them, that the bells belong to a convent buried under the sands. The wind and weather are not believed to have any effect upon the sound.

Bearings from Om Shomar.

Tor, W.1.S. The usual road to Tor from the upper Sinai lies through the valley of El Ghor [Arabic], not far distant to the N.W.

WADY RAHABA

[p.592] of Shomar; to the south of El Ghor extends the chain of Djed el Aali [Arabic]; and another valley called El Shedek [Arabic], entered from the Ghor, leads towards the lower plain

Djebel Serbal, N. 1/4 W.

The Djoze, over Feiran, N. 1/2 W.

Om Dhad, N.N.W.

Fera Soweyd [Arabic], a high mountain between Om Shomar and Mount St. Catherine, N. b. E. It forms one range with the peak of Koly, which branches of from hence, N.E. b. N.

Mountain of Masaoud, E.

Mountain over Wady Kyd, E. 1/4 S.

We took a breakfast after our return to Romhan, and then descended by the same way we had come. In re-ascending Wady Zereigye we heard the report of a gun, and were soon after gratified by seeing our huntsman arrive at the place where we had left our camel, with a fine mountain goat. Immediately on killing it he had skinned it, taken out the entrails, and then put the carcase again into the skin, carrying it on his back, with the skin of the legs tied across his breast. No butcher in Europe can surpass a Bedouin in skinning an animal quickly; I have seen them strip a camel in less than a quarter of an hour; the entrails are very seldom thrown away; if water is at hand, they are washed, if not, they are roasted over the fire without washing; the liver and lungs of all animals are usually eaten raw, and many of the hungry bystanders are seen swallowing raw pieces of flesh. After a hearty dinner we descended, by a different path from that we had ascended, into the upper part of Wady Rahaba, in which we continued N.E. b. E. for two or three hours, when we halted at a well called Merdoud [Arabic], at a little distance from several plantations of fruittrees.

My departure from the convent had roused the suspicions of the Bedouins; they had learnt that I was going to Om Shomar, and

WADY OWASZ

[p.593] two of them set out this morning by different routes, in order to intercept my return, intending no doubt to excite a quarrel with me respecting my visits to their mountains, in the hope of extorting money from me. We met one of them at this well, and he talked as loud and was as boisterous as if I had killed some of his kindred, or robbed his tent. After allowing him to vent his rage for half an hour, I began to speak to him in a very lofty tone, of my own importance at Cairo, and of my friendship with the Pasha; concluding by telling him, that the next time he went to Cairo I would have his camel seized by the soldiers. When he found that he could not intimidate me, he accepted of my invitation to be our guest for the night, and went in search of a neighbouring friend of his, who brought us an earthen pot, in which we cooked the goat.

May 25th.At one hour below Merdoud we again fell in with Wady Owasz, and returned by the former road to the convent. The monks were in the greatest anxiety about me, for the Bedouins who had gone in search of me, had sworn that they would shoot me; and had even refused a small present offered to them by the Ikonómos to pacify them, expecting, no doubt, to obtain much more from myself; but they now returned, and obliged him to give them what he had offered them, pretending that it was for his sake only that they had spared my life; nor would the monks believe me when I assured them that I had been in no danger on this occasion.

I passed the following four days in the convent, and in several gardens and settlements of Djebalye at a little distance from it. I took this opportunity to look over some of the records of the convent which are written in Arabic, and I extracted several interesting documents relative to the state of the Bedouins in former times, and their affrays with the monks. In one, of the last century, is a

CONVENT OF MOUNT SINAI

[p.594] list of the Ghafeyrs of the convent, not belonging to the Towara. These are,

El Rebabein [Arabic], a small tribe belonging to the great Djeheyne tribe of the Hedjaz; a few families of the Rebabein have settled at Moeleh on the Arabian coast, and in the small villages in the vicinity of Tor. They serve as pilots in that part of the Red sea, and protect the convents property about Tor.

El Heywat [Arabic], El Syayhe [Arabic], are small tribes living east of Akaba, among the dwelling-places of the Omran. El Reteymat [Arabic], a tribe about Ghaza and Hebron. El Omarein, or Omran. El Hokouk [Arabic], the principal tribe of he Tyaha. El Mesayd [Arabic], a small tribe of the Sherkieh province of Egypt. El Alowein, a strong tribe north of Akaba. El Sowareka [Arabic], in the desert between Sinai and Ghaza. El Terabein. El Howeytat. Oulad el Fokora [Arabic], the principal branch of the tribe of Wahydat near Ghaza. Individuals of all these tribes are entitled to small yearly stipends and some clothing, and are bound to recover the property of the monks, when seized by any persons of their respective tribes. In one of the manuscripts I found the name of a Ghafeyr called Shamoul (Samuel), a Hebrew name I had never before met with among Arabs.

On the 29th, I was visited by Hassan Ibn Amer [Arabic], the Sheikh of the Oulad Said, who is also one of the two principal Sheiks of the Towara, and in whose tent I had slept one night in my way to the convent. He begged me to lend him twenty dollars, which he promised to repay me at Cairo, as he wished to buy some sheep to be killed on the following day in honour of the saint Sheikh Szaleh. I told him that I never lent money to any body, but would willingly have made him a present of the sum if I had possessed it. He then said in many words, that if it had not been for his interference, the Bedouins would have waylaid and

[p.595] killed me in returning from Djebel Katerin. I told him that he and his tribe would have been responsible to the Pasha of Egypt for such an act; and in short that I never paid any tribute in the Pashas dominions. It ended by my giving him a few pounds of coffeebeans, wrapped up in a good handkerchief, a few squares of soap, and a loaf of sugar, to present to his women, and thus we parted good friends. In the evening his brother came and also received a few trifles. He had brought a fat sheep to kill in honour of El Khoudher (St. George), a saint of the first class among Bedouins, and to whose intercession he thought himself indebted for the recovery of the health of his young wife. In the convent, adjoining to the outer wall, is a chapel dedicated to St. George; the Bedouins, who are not permitted to enter the convent, address their vows and prayers to him on the outside, just below the chapel. I was invited to partake of the repast prepared by the brother of Sheikh Hassan, and much against the advice of the monks, I let myself down the rope from the window, and sat below for several hours with the Arabs.

I was invited also to the great feast of Sheikh Szaleh, in Wady Szaleh, which was to take place on the morrow, but as I knew that Szaleh, the great chief of the Towara, was to be there, and would no doubt press me hardly by his inquiries why I had come without the Pashas Firmahn; and as the Arabs were greatly exasperated against me for my late excursion to Om Shomar in addition to other causes of displeasure, I thought it very probable that I might be insulted amongst them, and I therefore determined to seize the opportunity of this general assembly in Wady Szaleh to begin my journey to Cairo; by so doing, I should also escape the disagreeable necessity of having Bedouin guides forced upon me. I engaged Hamd and his brother with two camels, and left the convent before dawn on the 30th, after having taken a farewell

NAKB EL RAHA

[p.596] of the monks, and especially of the worthy Ikonómos, who presented me at parting with a leopards skin, which he had lately bought of the Bedouins; together with several fine specimens of rock crystals, and a few small pieces of native cinnabar [Arabic]. The crystals are collected by the Arabs in one of the mountains not far distant from the convent, but in which of them I did not learn; I have seen some six inches in length, and one and a half in breadth; the greater part are of a smoky colour, with pyramidal tops. The cinnabar is said, by the Bedouins, to be found in great quantities upon Djebel Sheyger [Arabic], a few hours to the N.E. of Wady Osh, the valley in which I slept, at an Arab encampment, two nights before I arrived at the convent from Suez.

May 30th.We issued from the narrow valley in which the convent stands, into a broader one, or rather a plain, called El Raha, leaving on our right the road by which I first reached the convent. We continued in El Raha N.N.W. for an hour and an half, when we came to an ascent called Nakb el Raha [Arabic], the top of which we reached in two hours from the convent. I had chosen this route, which is the most southern from the convent to Suez, in order to see Wady Feiran, and to ascend from thence the mountain Serbal, which, with Mount Saint Catherine and Shomar, is the highest peak in the peninsula. I had mentioned my intention to Hamd, who it appears communicated it this morning to his brother, for the latter left us abruptly at Nakb el Raha, saying that he had forgot his gun, giving his camel in charge to Hamd, and promising to join us lower down, as his tent was not far distant. Instead, however, of going home, he ran straight to the Arabs assembled at Sheikh Szaleh, and acquainted them with my designs. Their chiefs immediately dispatched a messenger to Feiran to enjoin the people there to prevent me from ascending Serbal; but,

WADY SOLAF

[p.597] fortunately, I was already on my way to the mountain when the messenger reached Feiran, and on my return I had only to encounter the clamorous and now fruitless expostulations of the Arabs at that place.

We began to descend from the top of Nakb el Raha, by a narrow chasm, the bed of a winter torrent; direction N.W. by N. At the end of two hours and a quarter we halted near a spring called Kanaytar [Arabic]. Upon several blocks near it I saw inscriptions in the same character as those which I had before seen, but they were so much effaced as to be no longer legible. I believe it was in these parts that Niebuhr copied the inscriptions given in plate 49 of his Voyage. From the spring the descent was steep; in many parts I found the road paved, which must have been a work of considerable labour, and I was told that it had been done in former times at the expense of the convent. This road is the only one passable for camels, with the exception of the defile in which is the seat of Moses, in the way from the upper Sinai towards Suez. At three hours and three quarters from the convent we reached the foot of this mountain, which is bordered by a broad, gravelly valley. This is the boundary of the upper mountains of Sinai on this side; they extended in an almost perpendicular range on our right towards Wady Szaleh, and on our left in the direction W.N.W. We now entered Wady Solaf [Arabic], the valley of wine, coming from the N. or N.E. which here separates the upper Sinai range from the lower. At five hours we passed, to our right, a Wady coming from the north, called Abou Taleb [Arabic], at the upper extremity of which is the tomb of the saint Abou Taleb, which the Bedouins often visit, and where there is an annual festival, like that of Sheikh Szaleh, but less numerously attended. Our road continued through slightly descending, sandy valleys; at the end of five hours and a quarter, after having

[p.598] passed several encampments without stopping, we turned N. by W. where a lateral valley branches off towards the sea shore, and communicates with the valley of Hebran, which divides the upper Sinai from the Serbal chain. Wady Hebran contains considerable date- plantations and gardens, and this valley and Wady Feiran are the most abundant in water of all the Wadys of the lower country. A route from the convent to Tor passes through Wady Hebran, which is longer than the usual one, but easier for beasts of burthen.

At six hours and three quarters we halted in Wady Solaf, as I found myself somewhat feverish, and in want of repose. We saw great numbers of red-legged partridges this day; they run with astonishing celerity along the rocky sides of the mountains, and as the Bedouins do not like to expend a cartridge upon so small a bird, they are very bold. When we lighted our fire in the evening, I was startled by the cries of Hamd to take care of the venemous animal! I then saw him kill a reptile like a spider, to which the Bedouins give the name of Abou Hanakein [Arabic], or the two-mouthed; hanak meaning, in their dialect, mouth. It was about four inches and a half in length, of which the body was three inches; it has five long legs on both sides, covered, like the body, with setae of a light yellow colour; the head is long and pointed, with large black eyes; the mouth is armed with two pairs of fangs one above the other, recurved, and extremely sharp. Hamd told me that it never makes its appearance but at night, and is principally attracted by fire; indeed I saw three others during this journey, and always near the evening fire. The Bedouins entertain the greatest dread of them; they say that their bite, if not always mortal, produces a great swelling, almost instant vomiting, and the most excruciating pains. I believe this to be the Galeode phalangiste,

WADY RYMM

[p.599] at least it exactly resembles the drawing of that animal, given by Olivier in his Travels, pl. 42-4.

May 31st.A good nights rest completely removed my feverish symptoms. Fatigue and a check of perspiration often produce slight fevers in the desert, which I generally cured by lying down near the fire, and drawing my mantle over my head, as the Bedouins always do at night. The Bedouins, before they go to rest, usually undress themselves entirely, and lie down quite naked upon a sheeps skin, which they carry for the purpose; they then cover themselves with every garment which they happen to have with them. Even in the hottest season they always cover the head and face when sleeping, not only at night but also during the mid-day hours.