a spring called Ghurbeh, where some tamarisks and other trees were visible. Here the road from Tûr falls into ours from the S. W., having come up through Wady Hibrân, and crossed over the ridge that separates the waters flowing to that valley from those of Wady esh-Sheikh ;' the one running on the North and the other on the South of Serbâl. The same ridge also forms the connecting link between Serbâl and the more central Sinai. This road enters Wady Solâf an hour and a half below.

We now turned up Wady Solâf a little, along the base of the mountains on a S. E. course, passing in fifteen minutes the mouth of a very narrow valley or chasm, Wady Rudhwâh, coming down from the S. S. W. through the cliffs; from it a steep pass was said to lead S. W. over the mountains, to a place called Bŭghâbigh with water and gardens at or near the head of Wady Hibrân. Leaving the Solâf at 12 o'clock, we began gradually to ascend towards the foot of the pass before us, called by our Arabs Nukb Hâwy, "Windy Pass," and by Burckhardt Nukb er-Râhah from the tract above it.? We reached the foot at a quarter past 1 o'clock, and dismounting commenced the slow and toilsome ascent along the narrow defile, about S. by E. between blackened, shattered cliffs of granite some eight hundred feet high and not more than two hundred and fifty yards apart; which every moment threatened to send down their ruins on our heads. Nor is this at all times an empty threat; for the whole pass is filled with large stones and rocks, the debris of these cliffs. The bottom is a deep and narrow water-course, where the wintery torrent sweeps down

1) Here and elsewhere, in speaking of running waters, I mean of course the waters of the rainy season as they flow off. At this

time there was very little (if any) running water in the peninsula. We saw none.

2) Page 596.

with fearful violence. A path has been made for camels along the shelving piles of rocks, partly by removing the topmost blocks and sometimes by laying down large stones side by side, somewhat in the manner of a Swiss mountain road. But although I had crossed the most rugged passes of the Alps, and made from Chamouny the whole circuit of Mont Blanc, I had never found a path so rude and difficult as that we were now ascending.' The camels toiled slowly and painfully along, stopping frequently; so that although it took them two hours and a quarter to reach the top of the pass, yet the distance cannot be reckoned at more than one hour. From a point about half way up, the E. end of Jebel ez-Zebîr bore N. 42° W. and two peaks at its western end called elBenât, N. 60° W. Higher up the path lies in the bed of the torrent and became less steep. As we advanced, the sand was occasionally moist, and on digging into it with the hand, the hole was soon filled with fine sweet water. We tried the experiment in several places. Here too were several small palmtrees, and a few tufts of grass, the first we had seen since leaving the borders of the Nile. Burckhardt mentions a spring called Kaneitar in this part of the pass; but it was now dry; at least we neither saw nor heard of any. In the pass we found upon the rocks two Sinaite inscriptions; one of them having over it a cross of the same date.

It was half past 3 o'clock when we reached the top, from which the convent was said to be an hour distant; but we found it two hours, as did also Burckhardt.3 Descending a little into a small Wady, which

1) Pococke speaks of this pass as "a narrow vale which has a gentle ascent with water and palmtrees in it." Travels I. fol. p. 142. VOL. I.

17

2) Page 597.

3) Page 596. Burckhardt travelled in the other direction, from the convent down the pass.

has its head here and runs off through a cleft in the western mountains apparently to Wady Rudhwâh, we soon began to ascend again gradually on a course S. E. by S. passing by a small spring of good water; beyond which the valley opens by degrees and its bottom becomes less uneven. Here the interior and loftier peaks of the great circle of Sinai began to open upon us, black, rugged, desolate summits; and as we advanced, the dark and frowning front of Sinai itself (the present Horeb of the monks) began to appear. We were still gradually ascending, and the valley gradually opening; but as yet all was a naked desert. Afterwards a few shrubs were sprinkled round about, and a small encampment of black tents was seen on our right, with camels and goats browsing, and a few donkies belonging to the convent. The scenery through which we had now passed, reminded me strongly of the mountains around the Mer de Glace in Switzerland. I had never seen a spot more wild and desolate.

us.

As we advanced, the valley still opened wider and wider with a gentle ascent, and became full of shrubs and tufts of herbs, shut in on each side by lofty granite ridges with rugged, shattered peaks a thousand feet high, while the face of Horeb rose directly before Both my companion and myself involuntarily exclaimed: "Here is room enough for a large encampment!" Reaching the top of the ascent, or watershed, a fine broad plain lay before us, sloping down gently towards the S. S. E. enclosed by rugged and venerable mountains of dark granite, stern, naked, splintered peaks and ridges, of indescribable grandeur; and terminated at the distance of more than a mile by the bold and awful front of Horeb, rising perpendicularly in frowning majesty, from twelve to fifteen hundred feet in height. It was a scene of solemn

grandeur, wholly unexpected, and such as we had never seen; and the associations which at the moment rushed upon our minds, were almost overwhelming. As we went on, new points of interest were continually opening to our view. On the left of Horeb, a deep and narrow valley runs up S. S. E. between lofty walls of rock, as if in continuation of the S. E. corner of the plain. In this valley, at the distance of near a mile from the plain, stands the convent; and the deep verdure of its fruit-trees and cypresses is seen as the traveller approaches, an oasis of beauty amid scenes of the sternest desolation. At the S. W. corner of the plain the cliffs also retreat, and form a recess or open place extending from the plain westward for some distance. From this recess there runs up a similar narrow valley on the west of Horeb, called el-Leja, parallel to that in which the convent stands; and in it is the deserted convent el-Arba'în, with a garden of olive and other fruit-trees not visible from the plain. A third garden lies at the mouth of el-Leja, and a fourth further West in the recess just mentioned. The whole plain is called Wady er-Râhah; and the valley of the convent is known to the Arabs as Wady Shu'eib, that is, the Vale of Jethro. Still advancing, the front of Horeb rose like a wall before us; and one can approach quite to the foot and touch the mount. Directly before its base is the deep bed of a torrent, by which in the rainy season the waters of el-Leja and the mountains around the recess, pass down eastward across the plain, forming the commencement of Wady esh-Sheikh, which then issues by an opening through the cliffs of the eastern mountain,—a fine broad valley affording the only easy access to the plain and convent.-As we crossed the plain our feelings were strongly affected, at finding here so unexpectedly a spot so entirely adapted to the Scriptural

account of the giving of the law. No traveller has described this plain, nor even mentioned it except in a slight and general manner; probably because the most have reached the convent by another route without passing over it; and perhaps too because neither the highest point of Sinai (now called Jebel Mûsa), nor the still loftier summit of St. Catharine, is visible from any part of it.1

As we approached the mountain our head Arab, Beshârah, became evidently quite excited. He prayed that our pilgrimage might be accepted, and bring rain; and with great earnestness besought, that when we ascended the mountain, we would open a certain window in the chapel there, towards the South, which he said would certainly cause rain to fall. He also entreated almost with tears, that we would induce the monks to have compassion on the people, and say prayers as they ought to do for rain. When told that God alone could send rain, and they should look to him for it, he replied: "Yes, but the monks have the book of prayer for it; do persuade them to use it as they ought." There was an earnestness in his manner which was very affecting, but cannot be described. Just after crossing Wady esh-Sheikh, we passed at the mouth of Wady Shu'eib, a burial-ground much venerated by the Arabs. Here Beshârah repeated a few

1) Monconys appears to have come by the same route in A. D. 1647, par un chemin très rude, où les chameaux travaillaient beaucoup." He says the convent is seen from the top of the ascent, "dans le fond d'une grande campagne verte qui commence en cet endroit. Elle a une lieue et demi de long, et un grand quart de lieue de large." Tom. I. p. 214. Morison describes the plain as being "d'une lieue de longueur, mais d'une largeur peu considerable ;"

Relation Historique, p. 91. These notices, although exaggerated, are the most distinct mention of the plain that I have been able to find. Of Shaw's account I can make nothing; p. 314, 4to.

2)They [the Arabs] are persuaded, that the priests of the convent are in possession of the Taurât, a book sent down to Moses from heaven, upon the opening and shutting of which depend the rains of the peninsula." Burckhardt, p. 567.