XV.

says Cæsar, we

PALMYRA.

strong taste, and even for the lively polli- | for rest and luncheon in the shade of one wogs disporting themselves therein), they of those strange tower-tombs of which creep into the delicious shade of their more than a hundred stand- some in pretty little tent; and while lunch is in ruins, some almost perfect on the slopes progress, the rest of the camp springs up and at the foot of the hills which bound round them as if by magic, and their the plain of Tadmor to the south and short day's journey is at an end. south-west. Some of them are eighty feet "To-morrow, sir,' high, with six stories - square rooms with shall be at Balmyria.” panelled ceilings ornamented with mouldings, and still retaining traces of color; while tier above tier, from floor to ceiling (hundreds in a single tower), are the nar row loculi filled with human bones, and here and there a ghastly skeleton, with fragments of tattered mummy-cloth scattered around. In one corner of the tower is always to be found a winding staircase, often with wide gaps left by fallen stones, making the ascent thereof a delight to the enterprising, and a terror to the weak of nerve. On the outside of the tower, over the fine doorway, is sometimes a projecting slab supporting a large, recumbent figure carved in stone, near which is a tab

BRIGHTLY rises the sun which is to light our travellers to their long-expected goal; and before he has been long above the horizon the cavalcade sets forth on the six hours' march to "Tadmor in the Wilderness." Cæsar, exhilarated by the prospect of reaching the journey's end, starts this morning in a frolicsome mood, and greatly amuses the travellers by his earnest endeavors to get a rise out of dear old Abu Elias, riding at him full tilt, wheeling round him, and flourishing over | let with an inscription in Greek and Arahis defenceless head that curved sword maic. which, with its beautifully embossed scabbard, is an heirloom in the Cæsar's family. As for Abu Elias, he is quite content to be made a butt of for the occasion; and while Cæsar prances round him on his beautiful steed, he sits on his jogging old horse benignly smiling.

The wanderers are too eager to rest long, and are soon again on their way through the pass. Suddenly the plain of Tadmor comes into view, and there at last are the world-renowned ruins of ancient Palmyra. Long lines of graceful Corinthian columns, the entablature in many

sic temples, a chaos of fallen pillars and blocks of stone; and beyond, the vast pile of the Temple of Baal. Strange ruins are these, strangest perhaps in that there is no shadow of that melancholy which, in all inhabited countries, hangs so sadly over the remains of ancient grandeur. Here in the perpetual sunshine, under the cloudless blue of the Syrian sky, and in the peaceful loneliness of the Eastern deserts, all is bright and fresh and silently beautiful. There is nothing timeworn about those graceful ruins of temples, those ethereal groves of columns. They seem like the remains of some fairy city built in a night from the moonlit dews, and vanishing before the first sunbeams into wreaths of morning mist.

But soon all eyes are fixed on the east-places still perfect, beautiful ruins of clasern horizon, where the broad valley is at last bounded by the converging hills, which run in a low chain across its mouth, leaving a narrow opening through which the travellers will have to go. And now, beside this pass, become faintly visible some of those tall, mysterious towers built by the Palmyrenes in ancient days, before the Roman conquest. In the general abstraction one member of the party surreptitiously vanishes. Irene's little grey donkey (who is so handsome and valuable that he has to wear a conspicuous necklace to divert from his own personality the power of the Evil Eye) seizes the opportunity, when his mistress is safe in her palanquin, and makes off on his own account, and, to the intense mortification of the rest of the party, reaches Palmyra first of all, where he is subsequently found with a sturdy Bedouin on his back, and barely rescued from an obscure and inglorious fate.

It is nearly midday when the pass is reached at last, and there, tired out by the overpowering heat, our friends settle down

* Kings ix. 18; 2 Chron. viii. 4.

The travellers have heard of an Arab village at Tadmor of some fifty mud-huts, but no sign of it is visible. As they approach the far-reaching ruins all is silent, no living thing is stirring. Presently, in the midst of the chaos of fragments, they catch sight of their tents, pitched almost in the shadow of the Grand Colonnade (some of the tent-ropes made fast to fragments of fallen columns), and within view

of the great Temple of Baal. This is perhaps the most beautiful part of the ruins; at a little distance to the north-west is an exquisite small temple in almost perfect preservation, and a few steps from the tent-doors, in the opposite direction, rises a graceful arch enriched with beautifully elaborated sculpture.

As soon as they are rested our friends set forth to explore the great Temple of Baal, the sun-god. There rises before them a huge wall seventy feet high, enclosing a square court of which the side is seven hundred and forty feet long. Part of the wall, having fallen into ruins, has been rebuilt from the ancient materials; but the whole of the north side, with its beautiful pilasters, remains perfect. As the visitors enter the court they stand still in astonishment at the extraordinary sight which meets their eyes; for here, crowded within those four high walls, is the native village of Tadmor. It was natural enough for the Arabs to build their mud-huts within these ready-made fortifications, but the impression produced by such a village in such a place is indescribably strange. The temple, so to speak, is eaten out at the core, and little but the shell remains. But here and there a fluted Corinthian column or group of columns, with entablature still perfect, rises in stately grace far over the wretched huts, the rich, creamy color of the limestone and the beautiful mouldings of the capitals contrasting with the clear blue of the cloudless sky. The best view of the whole is to be obtained from the roof of the naos, which, once beautiful and adorned with sculpture, is now all battered and defaced, and has been metamorphosed into a squalid little mosque. To describe the view from that roof were indeed a hopeless task. High into the clear blue air and the golden sunshine rise the stately columos; crowded and jumbled and heaped together below, untouched by the gladdening sunbeams, unfreshened by the pure, free air, lies all the squalor and wretchedness of an Arab mud-hut village.

phia are appealed to for an interpretation thereof, but two words are all that they can decipher.

The ruins of Palmyra swarm with ancient inscriptions, both in Palmyrene (ie., Aramaic) and in Greek uncials. The Greek inscriptions are the terror of Sophia and Sebaste, who are expected by the rest to decipher them for the general benefit. It is a pathetic sight to see the miserable Sebaste held in position, by moral coercion, before one of them, and given to understand by her inexorable elders that there is no escape for her till she has read it.

The only water to be obtained at Palmyra smells and tastes strongly of sulphur, but one gets used to little details of this kind; and one of the most delectable things in the place is a copious subterranean spring of clear water which is really warm, but which, when the thermometer announces over 90° Fahr. in the shade, seems by contrast deliciously cool. The entrance to the cave has been anciently closed with a roughly built dome, only a narrow space being left as an entrance. The first time the travellers visit this cave, they arrive almost simultaneously with a little procession of Arabesses from the village. A little girl dances in front with very graceful movements, and next comes a tall negress who beats a tambourine with great vigor, and from time to time utters the quavering shriek which, among Arab folk, is an expression of joy. She is the nurse of the two girls who follow, escorted by several others. These two are native brides, and the object of the procession is to bring them on this their wedding day to bathe at the spring. The English ladies beg to be admitted to see this ceremony, and the favor is granted, but not before they have, by request, removed their hats and kefiyehs, that the Arabesses may behold their long hair, and be thereby assured of their femininity.

It is indeed a delightful place for bathFour more delightful days are spent at ing. At a little distance from the enPalmyra, in wandering about among the trance the bottom suddenly shelves down, graceful ruins, and in growing familiar and you find yourself quite out of your with what were once the stateliest build-depth, and can strike out into the deepenings of that lordly city. After much ing twilight, and swim on and on into the searching among the widely scattered darkness till nothing remains of the glarchaos, they at length discover what is ing sunshine without but a doubtful gleam thought to be the doorway of an ancient of daylight far away; and still you may Jewish synagogue, and there on the lintel swim on and on, and still the deep stream and doorpost, according to that ancient lengthens out into the gloom and seems command, are inscribed in Hebrew some to have no end, even as doth this present words from the Law. The sister and So- paper. Ah, good reader, would that thy

patience were inexhaustible! Then would | steps; it is hard to discover that the path I further tell of break-neck descents into one has been eagerly pursuing is, after all, subterranean tombs, and the discovery only a by-way leading off the main road! therein of many ancient sculptures on Wherefore our friends do not start on the huge slabs of stone, and many ancient day's march in their usual gleeful mood, skeletons crumbling into dust at the slight- but ride soberly_and silently through the est touch; of the ascent to the medieval desert plain. Even Hassan has so far i castle which (built, saith tradition, by a forgotten himself as to behave for once Druse prince and refugee) stands on the like a reasonable being. summit of the highest and boldest of the neighboring hills; of the going down into the deep moat thereof; of the final clambering progress up the face of the rock from which the castle towers aloft, and of the marvellous view from the topmost turret. But, alas! even that memorable gallop over the desert to the eastward salt lakes must go uncelebrated and undescribed.

The last evening at Tadmor in the wilderness sinks down into night. The bril liant moonlight illumines the ruins of the ancient city as once its stately and populous youth, and rests calm and peaceful over the long line of the Grand Colonnade, more ethereally beautiful now, maybe, than when fresh and new in Hadrian's days. They are haunted, those forest-like columns, graceful arches, and scattered heaps of fragments; the semblance of a royal lady glides among them with sad but stately step. Weeping over her city's downfall, so like her own, sharing its desolate sorrow as once its pride and glory, flits here and there the mournful ghost of Zenobia, the queen of the East. It is her story which gives so pathetic an interest to these ancient ruins, far away in the lonely eastern deserts, and that haunting shadow which makes it so hard to say, as say we must- Farewell to Palmyra.

XVI.

RETURN FROM PALMYRA.

On this morning the travellers are accompanied by a charming little sheep (or large lamb) purchased from an Arab at Tadmor. It trots along after them in the most confiding manner, though quite at liberty to bolt into the desert and attempt an escape. In the evening there is a sharp shower of rain (an extraordinary occurrence in these regions), whereupon this small sheep walks into Irene's tent and there reposes on the carpet till the shower is over. Later on it even trots into the sitting-tent during supper; but the father, mindful of certain future repasts, sternly forbids his daughters to make a pet of it. So" Irene's little lamb " is led off by the ear to the tent of that villainous old Abu Elias, the cook, and is seen no more; or, as Sebaste more accurately expresse sit, he appears not again qua sheep.

The most exciting event of this first day's march is the discovery of three large greenish-grey eggs left on the ground at some little distance from one another, and with not the slightest pretence of a nest anywhere near. Cæsar pronounces them to be the eggs of a vulture, and great is the elation of the travellers at the discovery of such a treasure; which elation is much increased when forth from one of the eggs there begins to make itself heard a plaintive chirp, and in its shell is descried a small hole, which is gradually enlarged by a small beak pecking thereat from the inside. Very tenderly does the father carry these treasures to the tents DURING the stay of our friends at Tad- at the White Khan, and there bestow them mor, many are the suggestive remarks in a biscuit-tin filled with cotton-wool. made by the younger members of the Next morning at breakfast the supposed party relative to the attractions of Bagdad vultureling is found to be subdued and and the Euphrates, which latter is only silent, whereupon great anxiety prevails as four days' journey from their present to his health, and an appeal is made to the abode. Unfortunately the elders, being | sister, who, being a trained nurse, swayed by certain prosaic considerations of no interest to any one, do not respond to these wistful hints; and so it comes to pass that on Monday, May 12th, our wanderers set forth on the return journey to Baalbek. They rise at about four o'clock, and when the sun is up, reluctantly turn their faces westward, feeling convinced that they will never see Palmyra again. It is sad to turn back and retrace one's

is able

to doctor anything, from a camel to an Arab baby. She forthwith gives the patient a warm bath in her teacup, and her efforts are regarded by a grateful little speech (all on one note, and that a squeaky one) through the window of his abode. Moreover, a second egg now begins to show signs of vital activity. It, too, has a voice of its own, and on its surface also a chink can presently be discerned.

This

state of things continues till the midday | aim at being as idiotic as possible, and halt, when, after much controversy as to eminently succeed. whether the eldest chick should not be given a start in life and helped out, the sister carefully peels off the shell and releases what proves to be a hopeful young bustard. But, alas he proves also to be in an unfinished condition, and the following night he dies, as does also his unhatched brother! This is the second tragedy of the return journey.

On the Wednesday evening our friends find themselves once more at Karyatên, where Hur Ibrahim kindly welcomes them. The ladies seize this opportunity of returning the call of the sheikh's family, and seeing their friends at home. The sheikh's house is a very extensive one, and the visitors are entertained in a large room furnished with divans, carpets, etc. Mrs. Sheikh herself carries round the rose-sherbet, followed by the pretty daughter before mentioned, who holds a large napkin of very delicate material, on which the visitors are expected to dry their lips. The sister carries on an Arabic conversation with the sheikh, and many polite things are said, which unfortunately are rather lost on the rest of the English visitors.

For the next three days, diverging from the scarcely perceptible track which leads towards Damascus, our friends travel over ground never (says Cæsar) traversed by Europeans, and through places quite unrecognized by guide-books. Even the Cæsar has never been here before, and Sheikh Nasr only once. The last days of desert-travel have now arrived. The Palmyrene excursion has been eminently successful, the only disappointment being that the travellers have not fallen in with any large number of Bedouin folk. Once, indeed, they find themselves not very far from a Bedouin camp, which they might visit by making a detour of two hours or thereabout. Unfortunately this would involve the loss of a day; for whenever the Bedouin see visitors approaching, they instantly kill a sheep, and by no possibility can you bring your call to an end until you have feasted thereupon, which rule of good manners necessitates a certain expenditure of time. Wherefore, to the inconsolable disappointment of some of the party, the Bedouin project is given up. An account of the desert-marches would be incomplete without some description of the devices to which our friends resort in order to enliven the monotony of the long rides. When feeling particularly puerile they propound impromptu riddles, which

At other times the sister charmingly recites ballads for the benefit of the other riders; but perhaps the most acceptable entertainment is that supplied by Cæsar and Sheikh Nasr, when they get up a tournament for the amusement of their English friends, charging one another at full gallop, chasing one another like the wind, wheeling about with astonishing swiftness, and generally displaying very fine horsemanship, sometimes, moreover, making quite intelligible speeches in the language of gesticulation.

"Cæsar would make his fortune on the

stage! exclaims Philippa. "Look at him now, bearing down upon Sheikh Nasr with eyes flashing wrath, and his sword held like a spear above his head!"

Cæsar dashes to the side of the sheikh, and glaring into his face, makes the fol lowing speech without uttering a word.

66

Thou and I, O sheikh, are deadly foes. When I meet thee alone, I will seize thee by the throat. I will wring thy neck with my hands, and leave thee dead on the ground!

As for Sheikh Nasr, he can tell quite a long story in sign-language. Some years ago he made a journey to Odessa to visit by invitation a certain Russian prince, and very interesting is his account of his experiences on shipboard.

"Why, it is the very words of the Psalm!" exclaims Philippa; and in fact the sheikh, though perfectly silent, is clearly speaking on this wise:

"We mounted up to heaven," says he; "we went down again to the depths. The ship reeled to and fro, and staggered like a drunken man; and as for me Here he lays his head down on his horse's neck, and looks as though his soul were indeed melting because of trouble.

Sometimes the sister converses with Sheikh Nasr in Arabic, and in the course of these conversations it is discovered that he is the nephew of that Sheikh Miguel who was married to an English lady of rank. It is also discovered that, for all his gentleness, he thinks very little of making a descent on a hostile camp, taking with him five or six hundred horsemen, and making a clean sweep of all their possessions; and you would believe him, too, if you were to see his fine face lighting up with the "joy of battle," and his dark eyes sparkling and flashing as he remembers these exploits, But he cannot be persuade Vam in detail. It is strange after such a mission, to

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