Haifa; or, Life in modern PalestineOliphant, Laurence
History
Haifa; or, Life in modern Palestine
Oliphant, Laurence
Palestine -- Description and travel
One of my first visits was to a ruin which I had observed crowning a
summit of the range, but which was only visible from certain points, so
shut in was it by the intervening mountain-tops. I started on horseback,
determined to find my way alone, and struck into a valley where the
narrow path followed a ledge of limestone rock, often not more than two
feet wide. I soon found myself diving into a sombre gorge, the
precipitous sides of which rose abruptly from the bed of the winter
torrent. As I proceeded it became more and more uncanny; the path was so
narrow I could no longer venture to risk my horse's footing, as a slip
would have involved a fall of at least two hundred feet. My ruin
disappeared, and my gorge seemed to trend away from it, the sun sank
behind the range, and the deep gloom of the solitary valley, hemmed in
on all sides by terraces of limestone, with here and there a fissure
indicating some cavernous recess, was becoming depressing.
I tried to turn, but the ledge was too narrow, so I was obliged to creep
cautiously on in the wrong direction. I began now rather to fear lest I
should meet some one, not merely because passing would have been
impossible, but because the spot was eminently well calculated for an
act of violence, and, while I always go about unarmed, I find that my
neighbours seldom go out riding alone without carrying revolvers. The
aspect of a wild-looking Arab, with a gun slung behind him, suddenly
turning a corner and coming straight towards me, was, under these
circumstances, not reassuring. Fortunately, at the moment I saw him I
had reached a spot where a huge rock had been displaced, and had left a
vacant space large enough to enable me to turn comfortably, and I
retraced my steps, amply repaid for my failure in not reaching the ruin,
by the solemn grandeur of the part of the mountain into which I had been
penetrating, and by finding my Arab, when he overtook me, to be a
communicative and harmless individual, who was on his way home from a
cave in which he stored his grain, and which he assured me I should have
reached if I had continued a few hundred yards farther. Beyond this, he
said, the path led nowhere.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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