Crossing the Anti-Lebanon.


The Harmless Guard--Cæsarea Philippi--The Valley of the Druses--The
Sides of Mount Hermon--An Alarm--Threading a Defile--Distant view of
Djebel Hauaran--Another Alarm--Camp at Katana--We Ride into Damascus.


Damascus, _May_ 12, 1852.

We rose early, so as to be ready for a long march. The guard came--a
mild-looking Arab--without arms; but on our refusing to take him thus, he
brought a Turkish musket, terrible to behold, but quite guiltless of any
murderous intent. We gave ourselves up to fate, with true
Arab-resignation, and began ascending the Anti-Lebanon. Up and up, by
stony paths, under the oaks, beside the streams, and between the
wheat-fields, we climbed for two hours, and at last reached a comb or
dividing ridge, whence we could look into a valley on the other side, or
rather inclosed between the main chain and the offshoot named Djebel
Heish, which stretches away towards the south-east. About half-way up the
ascent, we passed the ruined acropolis of Cæsarea Philippi, crowning the
summit of a lower peak. The walls and bastions cover a great extent of
ground, and were evidently used as a stronghold in the Middle Ages.

The valley into which we descended lay directly under one of the peaks of
Hermon and the rills that watered it were fed from his snow-fields. It was
inhabited by Druses, but no men were to be seen, except a few poor
husbandmen, ploughing on the mountain-sides. The women, wearing those
enormous horns on their heads which distinguish them from the Mohammedan