<h2> <SPAN name="ch41" id="ch41"></SPAN>CHAPTER XLI. </h2>
<p>When I last made a memorandum, we were at Ephesus. We are in Syria, now,
encamped in the mountains of Lebanon. The interregnum has been long, both
as to time and distance. We brought not a relic from Ephesus! After
gathering up fragments of sculptured marbles and breaking ornaments from
the interior work of the Mosques; and after bringing them at a cost of
infinite trouble and fatigue, five miles on muleback to the railway depot,
a government officer compelled all who had such things to disgorge! He had
an order from Constantinople to look out for our party, and see that we
carried nothing off. It was a wise, a just, and a well-deserved rebuke,
but it created a sensation. I never resist a temptation to plunder a
stranger's premises without feeling insufferably vain about it. This time
I felt proud beyond expression. I was serene in the midst of the scoldings
that were heaped upon the Ottoman government for its affront offered to a
pleasuring party of entirely respectable gentlemen and ladies I said, "We
that have free souls, it touches us not." The shoe not only pinched our
party, but it pinched hard; a principal sufferer discovered that the
imperial order was inclosed in an envelop bearing the seal of the British
Embassy at Constantinople, and therefore must have been inspired by the
representative of the Queen. This was bad—very bad. Coming solely
from the Ottomans, it might have signified only Ottoman hatred of
Christians, and a vulgar ignorance as to genteel methods of expressing it;
but coming from the Christianized, educated, politic British legation, it
simply intimated that we were a sort of gentlemen and ladies who would
bear watching! So the party regarded it, and were incensed accordingly.
The truth doubtless was, that the same precautions would have been taken
against any travelers, because the English Company who have acquired the
right to excavate Ephesus, and have paid a great sum for that right, need
to be protected, and deserve to be. They can not afford to run the risk of
having their hospitality abused by travelers, especially since travelers
are such notorious scorners of honest behavior.</p>
<p>We sailed from Smyrna, in the wildest spirit of expectancy, for the chief
feature, the grand goal of the expedition, was near at hand—we were
approaching the Holy Land! Such a burrowing into the hold for trunks that
had lain buried for weeks, yes for months; such a hurrying to and fro
above decks and below; such a riotous system of packing and unpacking;
such a littering up of the cabins with shirts and skirts, and
indescribable and unclassable odds and ends; such a making up of bundles,
and setting apart of umbrellas, green spectacles and thick veils; such a
critical inspection of saddles and bridles that had never yet touched
horses; such a cleaning and loading of revolvers and examining of
bowie-knives; such a half-soling of the seats of pantaloons with
serviceable buckskin; then such a poring over ancient maps; such a reading
up of Bibles and Palestine travels; such a marking out of routes; such
exasperating efforts to divide up the company into little bands of
congenial spirits who might make the long and arduous Journey without
quarreling; and morning, noon and night, such mass-meetings in the cabins,
such speech-making, such sage suggesting, such worrying and quarreling,
and such a general raising of the very mischief, was never seen in the
ship before!</p>
<p>But it is all over now. We are cut up into parties of six or eight, and by
this time are scattered far and wide. Ours is the only one, however, that
is venturing on what is called "the long trip"—that is, out into
Syria, by Baalbec to Damascus, and thence down through the full length of
Palestine. It would be a tedious, and also a too risky journey, at this
hot season of the year, for any but strong, healthy men, accustomed
somewhat to fatigue and rough life in the open air. The other parties will
take shorter journeys.</p>
<p>For the last two months we have been in a worry about one portion of this
Holy Land pilgrimage. I refer to transportation service. We knew very well
that Palestine was a country which did not do a large passenger business,
and every man we came across who knew any thing about it gave us to
understand that not half of our party would be able to get dragomen and
animals. At Constantinople every body fell to telegraphing the American
Consuls at Alexandria and Beirout to give notice that we wanted dragomen
and transportation. We were desperate—would take horses, jackasses,
cameleopards, kangaroos—any thing. At Smyrna, more telegraphing was
done, to the same end. Also fearing for the worst, we telegraphed for a
large number of seats in the diligence for Damascus, and horses for the
ruins of Baalbec.</p>
<p>As might have been expected, a notion got abroad in Syria and Egypt that
the whole population of the Province of America (the Turks consider us a
trifling little province in some unvisited corner of the world,) were
coming to the Holy Land—and so, when we got to Beirout yesterday, we
found the place full of dragomen and their outfits. We had all intended to
go by diligence to Damascus, and switch off to Baalbec as we went along—because
we expected to rejoin the ship, go to Mount Carmel, and take to the woods
from there. However, when our own private party of eight found that it was
possible, and proper enough, to make the "long trip," we adopted that
programme. We have never been much trouble to a Consul before, but we have
been a fearful nuisance to our Consul at Beirout. I mention this because I
can not help admiring his patience, his industry, and his accommodating
spirit. I mention it also, because I think some of our ship's company did
not give him as full credit for his excellent services as he deserved.</p>
<p>Well, out of our eight, three were selected to attend to all business
connected with the expedition. The rest of us had nothing to do but look
at the beautiful city of Beirout, with its bright, new houses nestled
among a wilderness of green shrubbery spread abroad over an upland that
sloped gently down to the sea; and also at the mountains of Lebanon that
environ it; and likewise to bathe in the transparent blue water that
rolled its billows about the ship (we did not know there were sharks
there.) We had also to range up and down through the town and look at the
costumes. These are picturesque and fanciful, but not so varied as at
Constantinople and Smyrna; the women of Beirout add an agony—in the
two former cities the sex wear a thin veil which one can see through (and
they often expose their ancles,) but at Beirout they cover their entire
faces with dark-colored or black veils, so that they look like mummies,
and then expose their breasts to the public. A young gentleman (I believe
he was a Greek,) volunteered to show us around the city, and said it would
afford him great pleasure, because he was studying English and wanted
practice in that language. When we had finished the rounds, however, he
called for remuneration—said he hoped the gentlemen would give him a
trifle in the way of a few piastres (equivalent to a few five cent
pieces.) We did so. The Consul was surprised when he heard it, and said he
knew the young fellow's family very well, and that they were an old and
highly respectable family and worth a hundred and fifty thousand dollars!
Some people, so situated, would have been ashamed of the berth he had with
us and his manner of crawling into it.</p>
<p>At the appointed time our business committee reported, and said all things
were in readdress—that we were to start to-day, with horses, pack
animals, and tents, and go to Baalbec, Damascus, the Sea of Tiberias, and
thence southward by the way of the scene of Jacob's Dream and other
notable Bible localities to Jerusalem—from thence probably to the
Dead Sea, but possibly not—and then strike for the ocean and rejoin
the ship three or four weeks hence at Joppa; terms, five dollars a day
apiece, in gold, and every thing to be furnished by the dragoman. They
said we would lie as well as at a hotel. I had read something like that
before, and did not shame my judgment by believing a word of it. I said
nothing, however, but packed up a blanket and a shawl to sleep in, pipes
and tobacco, two or three woollen shirts, a portfolio, a guide-book, and a
Bible. I also took along a towel and a cake of soap, to inspire respect in
the Arabs, who would take me for a king in disguise.<br/> <br/> <br/></p>
<p><SPAN name="p434" id="p434"></SPAN></p>
<div class="fig"> <ANTIMG alt="p434.jpg (34K)" src="images/p434.jpg" width-obs="100%" /><br/></div>
<p><br/></p>
<p>We were to select our horses at 3 P.M. At that hour Abraham, the dragoman,
marshaled them before us. With all solemnity I set it down here, that
those horses were the hardest lot I ever did come across, and their
accoutrements were in exquisite keeping with their style. One brute had an
eye out; another had his tail sawed off close, like a rabbit, and was
proud of it; another had a bony ridge running from his neck to his tail,
like one of those ruined aqueducts one sees about Rome, and had a neck on
him like a bowsprit; they all limped, and had sore backs, and likewise raw
places and old scales scattered about their persons like brass nails in a
hair trunk; their gaits were marvelous to contemplate, and replete with
variety under way the procession looked like a fleet in a storm. It was
fearful. Blucher shook his head and said:</p>
<p>"That dragon is going to get himself into trouble fetching these old
crates out of the hospital the way they are, unless he has got a permit."</p>
<p>I said nothing. The display was exactly according to the guide-book, and
were we not traveling by the guide-book? I selected a certain horse
because I thought I saw him shy, and I thought that a horse that had
spirit enough to shy was not to be despised.</p>
<p>At 6 o'clock P.M., we came to a halt here on the breezy summit of a
shapely mountain overlooking the sea, and the handsome valley where dwelt
some of those enterprising Phoenicians of ancient times we read so much
about; all around us are what were once the dominions of Hiram, King of
Tyre, who furnished timber from the cedars of these Lebanon hills to build
portions of King Solomon's Temple with.</p>
<p>Shortly after six, our pack train arrived. I had not seen it before, and a
good right I had to be astonished. We had nineteen serving men and
twenty-six pack mules! It was a perfect caravan. It looked like one, too,
as it wound among the rocks. I wondered what in the very mischief we
wanted with such a vast turn-out as that, for eight men. I wondered
awhile, but soon I began to long for a tin plate, and some bacon and
beans. I had camped out many and many a time before, and knew just what
was coming. I went off, without waiting for serving men, and unsaddled my
horse, and washed such portions of his ribs and his spine as projected
through his hide, and when I came back, behold five stately circus tents
were up—tents that were brilliant, within, with blue, and gold, and
crimson, and all manner of splendid adornment! I was speechless. Then they
brought eight little iron bedsteads, and set them up in the tents; they
put a soft mattress and pillows and good blankets and two snow-white
sheets on each bed. Next, they rigged a table about the centre-pole, and
on it placed pewter pitchers, basins, soap, and the whitest of towels—one
set for each man; they pointed to pockets in the tent, and said we could
put our small trifles in them for convenience, and if we needed pins or
such things, they were sticking every where. Then came the finishing touch—they
spread carpets on the floor! I simply said, "If you call this camping out,
all right—but it isn't the style I am used to; my little baggage
that I brought along is at a discount."<br/> <br/> <br/></p>
<p><SPAN name="p436" id="p436"></SPAN></p>
<div class="fig"> <ANTIMG alt="p436.jpg (33K)" src="images/p436.jpg" width-obs="100%" /><br/></div>
<p><br/></p>
<p>It grew dark, and they put candles on the tables—candles set in
bright, new, brazen candlesticks. And soon the bell—a genuine,
simon-pure bell—rang, and we were invited to "the saloon." I had
thought before that we had a tent or so too many, but now here was one, at
least, provided for; it was to be used for nothing but an eating-saloon.
Like the others, it was high enough for a family of giraffes to live in,
and was very handsome and clean and bright-colored within. It was a gem of
a place. A table for eight, and eight canvas chairs; a table-cloth and
napkins whose whiteness and whose fineness laughed to scorn the things we
were used to in the great excursion steamer; knives and forks,
soup-plates, dinner-plates—every thing, in the handsomest kind of
style. It was wonderful! And they call this camping out. Those stately
fellows in baggy trowsers and turbaned fezzes brought in a dinner which
consisted of roast mutton, roast chicken, roast goose, potatoes, bread,
tea, pudding, apples, and delicious grapes; the viands were better cooked
than any we had eaten for weeks, and the table made a finer appearance,
with its large German silver candlesticks and other finery, than any table
we had sat down to for a good while, and yet that polite dragoman,
Abraham, came bowing in and apologizing for the whole affair, on account
of the unavoidable confusion of getting under way for a very long trip,
and promising to do a great deal better in future!</p>
<p>It is midnight, now, and we break camp at six in the morning.</p>
<p>They call this camping out. At this rate it is a glorious privilege to be
a pilgrim to the Holy Land.<br/> <br/> <br/></p>
<p><SPAN name="p437" id="p437"></SPAN></p>
<div class="fig"> <ANTIMG alt="p437.jpg (6K)" src="images/p437.jpg" width-obs="100%" /><br/></div>
<p><br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />