Our Road Lay Northward Across The
Plain Towards A Long Narrow Strip Of Date Ground, Surrounded By A
Ruinous Mud Wall.
After a ride of two or three miles, we entered the
gardens, and came suddenly upon the Hammam.
It is a prim little Cockney
bungalow, built by Abbas Pasha of Egypt for his own accommodation;
glaringly whitewashed, and garnished with diwans and calico curtains of
a gorgeous hue. The guardian had been warned of our visit, and was
present to supply us with bathing-cloths and other necessaries. One by
one we entered the cistern, which is now in an inner room. The water is
about four feet deep, warm in winter, cool in summer, of a
saltish-bitter taste, but celebrated for its invigorating qualities,
when applied externally. On one side of the calcareous rock, near the
ground, is the hole opened for the spring by Moses' rod, which must
have been like the "mast of some tall
[p.204] Ammiral[FN#22]"; and near it are the marks of Moses' nails-deep
indentations in the stone, which were probably left there by some
extinct Saurian. Our Cicerone informed us that formerly the
finger-marks existed, and that they were long enough for a man to lie
in. The same functionary attributed the sanitary properties of the
spring to the blessings of the Prophet, and, when asked why Moses had
not made sweet water to flow, informed us that the Great Lawgiver had
intended the spring for bathing in, not for drinking.
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