Читать книгу A Ride through Syria to Damascus and Baalbec, and ascent of Mount Hermon онлайн

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We halt for lunch at El Tireth (from the name, probably once a fortified town), and, after a ride of eleven hours, halt for the night at a Mahommedan village called Baka, which probably now for the first time receives a European guest (as even my guides had not been there before): the sun being already set, it is the only refuge near us. It is built of mud on the slope of a hill near an old ruined fountain enclosed in massive masonry. Most of the wells and fountains we see on the way had been similarly well cared for in ancient times, but are now fast falling into decay. We will give you a little idea of an Eastern village:—Place a honeycomb with the cells perpendicular, cover the top of some of the cubes to represent a flat mud roof, leave others open to represent small stable yards for all the domestic animals in creation, camels included, and you have an Arab village of one-storeyed huts, scarcely distinguishable at a distance from the hillside on which it is plastered. The Sheiks’ houses have an additional storey, a guest-chamber built on the wall. One of these we occupy, not a pane of glass in the place and quite innocent of any furniture whatever, which is perhaps an advantage, considering the creeping things innumerable which abound in Eastern villages. Our guard and other retainers sleep in the open yard with the horses, and leave their weapons with us for safe custody, so for the time I am the custos custodum, but our quarters are inviolable, as for the nonce we are the guests of the village. A few crossed sticks in the corner of the yard form the nearest approach to a fire-place.