Samuel 31:11-13.)
Off to the left a little way I see Tabakat Fahil, identified as
Pella, the place to which the Christians of Jerusalem fled just
before the siege of Titus in obedience to the prophetic warning of
Christ.
It is two o'clock when we reach the Jordan Valley, at a point a
little south of Beth-shan, which is on the west side of the river.
We now turn northward and pursue our way steadily near the
mountains until after five o'clock; then we turn toward the river,
which we reach at sun-down.
The Jordan Valley is covered with a growth of thorn said to be
like that used in the crowning of Christ at the time of his mock-
trial. We eat of a delicious yellow berry now ripening on these
thorns. We pass two or three small villages, the names of which I
could not learn. We cross a number of small streams this
afternoon, the largest of which is the Tayibeh. All of these
streams are thickly lined with reeds and pink oleander; so thick
is this growth in some places that the streams are completely
hidden. Our Arab guide springs down into each of these water-
brooks and hands drink to us, but he drinks, I think, after the
manner of the drinking of "Gideon's three hundred," in the time of
their being tested; that is, by a quick movement of the hand
throwing water into his mouth.
Pushing rapidly across the open valley we startle gazelles from
their hiding-places among the reeds. Then, near the river, we pass
several encampments of Bedouins whose tents are black as those of
Kedar. At last, after being in the saddle all of ten hours, just
at sun-set, we reach the Jordan at the bridge of Jisr el Mejamia,
six miles south of the Sea of Galilee. Just across on the other
side of the river we shall tarry through the night.
The way has been long and trying. I am very weary. But, now, just
before me the Jordan - sacred stream! And then, on the other side,
rest! Happy, soul-cheering thought!
"At the Bridge"
CHAPTER VIII.
The bridge of Jisr el Mejamia was at the time of my visit the only
available one for travel between the Sea of Galilee and the Dead
Sea. It is a stone bridge and was built by the Romans nearly, or
quite, two thousand years ago. It could scarcely be crossed by
carriages at present as the ascent to the highest point is by a
kind of step arrangement. It even seemed a wise precaution for us
not to attempt to ride over on horse-back - the stones were very
smooth and slippery. The present name of the structure means
"bridge of the messengers," and it was so named because here
messengers from various points in the land used to meet to
exchange messages.
I am glad to reach this place, for again I am very tired. The
distance traveled to-day is said to be fifty miles. But when we
arrive here the road and bridge are crowded with sheep and goats
being brought in from the valley for safety in the night. My first
sight of the Jordan, which at this place is clear and sparkling,
does not particularly impress me. I long for rest, and so we do
not tarry, but pass directly into the village lying just at the
west end of the bridge.
Oh, the wretchedness of this place! I wonder what kind of
entertainment I can find here. There is little choice as to a
place of lodging. The best and only accommodation that the
miserable village affords is what was formerly used by robbers as
a prison-house for their victims, but which is now used as a kind
of store-room. There is but one room, and its earthen floor is
littered over with filth of almost every description, while dust
and cob-webs everywhere abound. This is the RECEPTION-ROOM for our
party of four.
While my dragoman busied himself in getting supper, I sat on a box
making notes of what I had seen and experienced that day. Just
then the place served as KITCHEN and WRITING-ROOM. I wrote
rapidly, and as I wrote the thought that somewhere that day I had
crossed the path of the Master in his Perean ministry thrilled me.
I said, "Mr. Barakat, I am going down to the Jordan for a while
after supper." He replied, "All right, and I'll go with you'."
"No," said I, "I want to be alone down at the bridge." He simply
said, "I'll go with you."
Our supper was a light affair, but our host brought a platter of
something that looked like dark beeswax, but which proved to be a
palatable food called "halawa." We ate from the floor of this
room, which then became our DINING-ROOM.
After supper I was ready to go down to the river, not more than a
hundred yards from our lodging-place. When we started, our host
stepped to a corner of the room, picked up a gun, and prepared to
go with us. I told my dragoman to tell him not to go with us. The
reply was, "He will go with us." "Well," I said, "if he must go
make him put down that gun; it will spoil my evening of quiet
thought at the sacred river." The answer was: "Make no further
objection. Have you not noticed that everybody here carries a gun?
He knows what he is doing.
