Silver Chimes in Syria: Glimpses of a Missionary's ExperiencesNelson, William S.
Religion
Silver Chimes in Syria: Glimpses of a Missionary's Experiences
Nelson, William S.
Missions -- Syria
We pressed up the mountain slope and crossed the ridge in good time,
having many beautiful views back over the dark blue Mediterranean. Mount
Cassius lifted its rocky head five thousand feet, directly out of the
sea, to the south, showing where the Orontes empties into the sea at old
Seleucia. After passing the summit of the range we dropped down rapidly
to the Antioch plain, having the lake of Antioch in full view before us.
By sunset we had reached the place intended as our first halt,
thirty-seven kilometers from the shore. I found no place of
entertainment but a bare inn where I could set up my camp bed and sleep.
There was no food to be had for love or money and so I had to depend on
the scant supplies I had brought with me in my saddlebags.
The second day's ride was much longer than the first, as we kept to the
saddle for twelve hours, notwithstanding the entreaty of my companions
to break the journey earlier. I reminded them of the pledge to reach
Aleppo on the third day, and so kept on until dusk. We had left the
carriage road for a more direct trail and stopped for the night in a
small, desolate village. There was no decent shelter to be found and so
I gladly set up my bed on the threshing floor, and slept under the
starry sky. I inquired for milk, eggs, bread, cheese, anything in the
way of food, offering ample pay for anything edible. After much
persuasion the people were induced to burrow in the straw pile on the
threshing floor from which they produced a watermelon. This was
refreshing at least, and helped to wash down my bread, which was getting
rather dry, as I did not like to use much water in this swampy region.
Long before dawn we were again on the road and pushed steadily ahead
over ridge after ridge, until, in the middle of the afternoon, the city
of Aleppo broke on our sight, a most refreshing vision. In one of the
valleys near Aleppo the traveler cannot fail to notice many heaps of
small stones, evidently placed there to mark certain spots. The place is
called the valley of the slain, and each pile indicates where some
victim has fallen.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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