From my tent. Tues 20. Ayun Musa ['Ain Musa]. My dearest Father. Oh would that you were here! It's too delicious and amusing. But you shall have a day to day diary and keep my letter, for I write more fully to you than in my diary. Well. I left Jerusalem [(El Quds esh Sherif, Yerushalayim)] yesterday soon after 9, having seen my cook at 7 and arranged that he should go off as soon as he could get the mules ready. (His name is Hanna - sounds familiar doesn't it! but that H is such as you have never heard.) I rode down to Jerusalem alone - the road was full of tourists, caravans of donkeys carrying tents for Cook and Bedouin escorts. I made friends as I went along, and rode with first one Bedouin and then another, all of them exaggerating the dangers I was about to run with the hope of being taken with me into Moab. Half way down, I met my guide from Salt, east of Jordan, coming up to meet me. His name is Tarif, he is a servant of the clergyman in Salt and a Christian therefore, and a perfect dear. We rode along together some time, but he was on a tired horse, so I left him to come on slowly and hurried down into Jericho where I arrived with a Bedouin at 1 - famished. I went to the Jordan hotel and while I was seeing to my horse, appeared Kremer, the Austrian painter and welcomed me with open arms. He sat with me while I lunched and then took me up to his room to see his work which is awfully good. When I tell you that he is the founder of the Secessionists in Vienna [Wien], you will realize that his exhibition is the one you and I would always fly to see! He is very modern, but oh so good! I've always thought that the bare Jordan valley was unpaintable, but I am beginning to think I'm wrong. We then proceeded to the Mudir's for I wanted to find out the truth of the tales I had been told about Moab, but he was out. By this time Tarif and Hanna had arrived and reported the tents to be 1½ hours behind, which seemed to make camping at the Jordan impossible that night. Anyhow, an attendant, Kremer and I walked up to Elisha's Well through fields and over Spina Christi hedges. It was almost tropically hot and heavenly. All Jericho was scented with orange blossom and the fields were sheets of white and gold, the gold being yellow daisies. It was most enjoyable. I came in about 5 to find that my tents had just arrived with my 2 muleteers, Ali and Mohammed, but Tarif opined that it was too late to go down to Jordan so I determined to pass that night in Jericho and make an early start - to Kremer's delight! At this moment appeared the Mudir and we 3 had a very comic tea together. The conversation was conducted in 4 tongues - English to the hotel servants, French to my 2 guests, but a French which I had to put into German for Kremer and into Arabic for the Mudir as they were both very shaky in that tongue. The Mudir was very full of a carriage he had just bought with 4 wheels, but no horses! (Yet it was not a motor car!) When he heard my plans, nothing would suit him but that he should come to Madeba [Madaba] with me and see about my guide to Mashetta [Qasr el Mushatta] (of all these more anon, inshallah) and rather to my embarrassment he bustled off to see about a horse for himself. I need not have troubled myself as you will see later. Kremer and I then went to see a great encampment of Cook's and on down wonderful fields full of yellow daisies and a single scarlet ranunculus, most exquisite, of which we gathered a lot to send to Nina. The hotel was full of tourists and I made friends with a charming English clergyman and his pretty daughter - I don't even know his name. He was an old dear and hurried up to light my candles when I went to bed! Kremer and I dined together at a little table (so you see we had quite a pleasant time!) and I went to bed very early, a peerless wonderful night. This morning I got up at 5 and at 6 was all ready, having sent on my mules and Hanna to the Jordan bridge. I knocked up the Mudir and he appeared vowing he was going with me to Ayun Musa, I begged him not to trouble and he said he wd come as far as the bridge and send a guide to Madeba to make the necessary arrangements for me, and on my still further urging him, he turned back half way, at the slime pits, and left me his servant Ismael which was just what I wanted. I think he never had the slightest intention of coming! We parted with many expressions of the deepest friendship and many wishes from me that God wd increase his good. The morning was divine, hot as Persia and with the delicious fresh dawn feeling even in that low valley. We got over the bridge, though I believe we payed an exhorbitant toll - Hanna thought so, at any rate and very indignant. As it only came to 3 frcs all told I didn't care. The river valley is wide on the other side and was full of tamarisks in full white flower, willows in the newest of leaf, there were almost no slime pits and when we reached the level of the Ghor [El Ghor] (that is the Jordan plain) behold the wilderness had blossomed like the rose. It was the most unforgettable sight - sheets and sheets of varied and exquisite colour - purple, white, yellow and the brightest blue (this was a thistly sort of plant which I don't know) and fields of scarlet ranunculus. 9/10ths of them I didn't know, but there was the yellow daisy, the sweet scented mauve wild stock, a great splendid sort of dark purple onion, the white garlic and purple mallow and higher up a tiny blue iris and red anemones and a charming pink thing like a linum. We were now joined by a cheerful couple, from Bethlehem [(Beit Lahm)], a portly fair man in white with a yellow keffiyeh (that's the thing they wear round their heads bound by ropes of camel hair and falling over the shoulders) and a fair beard, riding a very small donkey and a thinner and darker man walking. The fat one looked like a portly burgher. He asked me if I were a Christian and said he was, praise be to God! I replied piously that it was from God. So we all journeyed on together through the wilderness of flowers and every now and then the silent but amiable Ismael got off to pick me a new variety of plant, while the other enlivened the way by stalking wood pigeons, but the pigeons were far too wily and they let off their breech loaders in vain and stood waist deep in flowers watching the birds flying cheerfully away - with a "May their house be destroyed!" from my Christian friend. A little higher up we came to great patches of corn sown by the Adwan Bedouins - Arabs we call them east of Jordan, they being the Arabs par excellence, just as we call their black tents houses, there being no others. Tarif told me that the rainfall was not enough for the corn but that there was enought water to irrigate all the Ghor - but then goodbye to the flowers! All this time I had not, since the bridge, met a single soul; now we saw a group of black tents far away on a little hill covered with white tombs - Tell Kufrein [Kafrein] it is called - and here the barley was in ear and, in the midst of the great stretches of it, little watch towers of branches had been built and a man stood on each to drive away birds, pig and people. One was playing a pipe as we passed - it was, much more Arcadian than Arcadia. We had now reached the bottom of the foothills, the Hemra they are called, and leaving the Ghor behind us, we began to mount - not without many a look behind at the flowery plain and the slime pits and the hills of Judea. We crossed a stream flowing down the Wady Hesban [Hisban] (which is the Heshbon of the fish pools in the Song on Songs) at a place called Akweh - that's what it is called but there is no place there, only a circular enclosure of dolmens and menhirs (which I didn't see because it was buried in flowers). The country is full of them. Chemosh, the Moabite god, is supposed to have been worshipped at them. It was so wet here that we rode on to a place where there were a few thorn trees peopled by immense crowds of nesting[?] birds - they sieze on any litle bush for there are so few and the Arabs come and burn the bush and catch and cook the birds all in one! There was a grave near by, very old said Tarif, and the place was called after its owner - Salih. Sualih, in Arabic Arabic. To say that it was a garden of flowers would give you no idea of what it was like. Here we lunched and the mules caught us up and passed us, and we rested an hour and started again uphill at 12.45. Our road was too exquisite, the flowers - but I fear I am becoming tedious! On top of the first shoulder we came to spreading corn fields. The plan is this - the "Arabs" sow one place this year and go and live somewhere else lest their animals should eat the growing corn; next year this lies fallow and the fallow of the year before is sown. Over the second shoulder we got onto a stretch of rolling hills and here we parted with Ismail, who went straight on to Madeba (with 10 francs from me in his pocket) and we descended the valley to Ayun Musa, a collection of beautiful springs with an Arab camp pitched above them. I found the loveliest iris I have yet seen - big and sweet scented and so dark purple that the hanging down petals are almost black. It decorates my tent now. Half an hour later my camp was pitched a little lower down on a lovely grassy plateau looking up to the waterfall of Ayun Musa and down, down across the Ghor and the mountains of Judea. They, however, were soon swallowed up in a hot mist which filled the Ghor, while a beautiful scarlet sunset stretched up to the zenith. We got in at 3.30 and were soon surrounded by Arabs who sold us a hen and some excellent sour milk, laban it is called. While we bargained the women and children wandered round and eat grass, just like goats. The women are unveiled. They wear a blue cotton gown 6 yards long which is gathered up and bound round their heads and their waists and falls to their feet. Their faces, from the mouth downwards are tattoed with indigo and their hair hangs down in two long plaits on either side. Our horses and mules were hobled [sic] and groomed, Hanna brought me an excellent cup of tea and at 6 a good dinner consisting of soup made of rice and olive oil (very good!) an Irish stew and raisins from Salt, an offering from Tarif. My camp lies just under Pisgah [Pisga]. Isn't is a joke being able to talk Arabic! We saw a great flock of storks today (the Father of Luck, Tarif calls them) and an eagle. I am now amongst the belka Arabs but these particular people are the Ghanimat, which Hanna explains as Father of Flocks. Wed 21. [21 March 1900] Well, I can now show you the reverse side of camping, but it's not been very bad so far. I woke this morning at dawn to find a strong wind blowing up clouds from the east. It looked like varying weather so I got up and breakfasted and walked down to the cave below the waterfall which I found to be very beautiful and hung with maidenhair. At 7 it began to rain but I nevertheless started off for the top of Siagheh, which is Pisgah [Pisga], sending the others straight to Madeba [Madaba]. At the top of the hill the rain ceased, the clouds blew northwards up the Ghor [El Ghor], leaving the Dead Sea [(Yam Hamelah, Bahret Lut)] and half the Judean hills in sunshine while the mists that hung over Jerusalem [(El Quds esh Sherif, Yerushalayim)], though they obscured my view made what I saw more wonderful. There are 2 tops to Siagheh, one crowned with the ruins of what was apparently a fort, the other nearer the valley and commanding a still more beautiful view. I could see from it 2 of the places from which Balaam is supposed to have attempted the cursing of Israel and behind me lay the third, Nebo [Mt. Nebo] - Naba in Arabic. The Moses legend is a very touching one. I stood on the top of Pisgah and looked out over the wonderful Jordan valley and the blue sea and the barren hills, veiled and beautified by cloud and thought it was one of the most pathetic stories that have ever been told. I then rode to Nebo, the clouds sweeping down behind me and swallowing up the whole Ghor, as though the valley and the hills themselves were only a legend into which I had accidentally stepped. I past a splendid menhir and the top of Nebo was crowned by a circle of stones and all around the stones were laid in curious orders, for this was a high place sacred to Baal and these the vestiges of a faith that has gone under. As I left Nebo it began to stream. We cantered across rolling slopes of corn, through a ruined village - the whole country is full of them - picked up the mules and passed them and arrived at Madeba about 11.30, wet through. As I rode through the squalid muddy little streets, to my surprise I was greeted in American by a man in a waterproof. He's a photographer, semi-professional, and his name is Baker and he is very cheerful and nice. He is travelling with a dragoman. I selected my camping ground on the lee side of the village and Mr Baker took me to the Latin monastery where he is lodging to keep out of the wet while my camp was being put up. To beguile the time he showed me photographs and dressed up in Bedouin clothes. I was very fortunate in getting here early, before the ground was too wet. I had my tent thoroughly well trenched all round - though it streamed steadily till 2, I was quite comfy. I changed into dry clothes, lunched and read books about Madeba. At 2 Mr Baker came to fetch me, dressed me in his waterproof as it was still raining a little and we were both shown all the sights by his dragoman. It's an extraordinary place; every time they turn up a clod of ground they find a Roman capital, or a Byzantine mosaic. It dates from the earliest Jewish times, there was a Roman town, then a Christian with 7 big churches - and now is a miserable cluster of hovels built up with the columns and squared stones of former times and resting on acres of mosaic. I should think we saw 10 separate pieces - and these are only what they have happened to discover. The homes are vaulted caves innocent of windows, and but for a few holes in the roof would be quite dark. One was actually the apse of a Byzantine church, another had a Greek inscription in the middle of its pavement to say that it was dedicated to "the mother of our Lord Christ" - here the inhabitants were very friendly and made us coffee while we examined their house - and the most interesting of all is now covered by a modern church and well protected. It is a map of Syria, and fortunately the part containing a picture of Jerusalem, the Jordan, Madeba and far out into the desert eastwards is perfect. I came home to tea and sent up to Government House, so to speak, to find out what my Mudir's letter had done for me in the matter of tomorrow's escort. The answer came that this Mudir was away but that Amr Effendi was coming to see me. He appeared, a tall middle aged Turk; I invited him into my tent with all politeness and offered him cigarettes (you see a bad habit may have its merits!) while Hanna brought him a cup of coffee. But - the soldier was not to be had! No, another English lady had come, an old one (Mrs Th. Bent!) and asked for a soldier for Mashetta [Qasr el Mushatta] and hadn't got one. There weren't enough. I determined to wait till the coffee and cigarettes begun to work and turned the conversation to other matters - with as many polite phrases as I could remember. Fortunately I fell upon photography and found that his great desire was to be photographed with his soldiers. I jumped at this and offered to do him and send him copies and so forth and the upshot of it was that for me (this was much underlined) he willl send a soldier tomorrow at dawn. This being satisfactorily settled, our talk proceeded most swimmingly for another half hour. Amr Effendi took another cigarette and told me the story of his life which was most interesting. He is a Circassian and left his country when the Russians took it, has been here 7 years and is heartily sick of it, poor dear - and lots more besides. We then discussed the advantages and disadvantages of marriage with myself as an example and parted the very best of friends. I think it's rather a triumph to have conducted so successful a piece of diplomacy in Arabic, don't you. The wind has dropped and the sky is clear, but it's cold and dampish. I had however the brilliant idea of sending into the town for a brazier which was brought me full of charcoal and put into my tent. I have been drying my habit over it. From my camp I look over great rolling plains of cornfield stretching eastwards. Thurs 22. [22 March 1900] This has been a most wonderful day. Hanna woke me at 5.30, the weather looked promising though there was a good deal of cloud. By 6.30 I had breakfasted and was ready to start when Mr Baker appeared and asked whether he might come too. I cheerfully agreed and sent up to know if my soldier was coming. He arrived in a few minutes, a big handsome cheerful Circassian mounted on a strong white horse, and a little before 7 we started off. I took Tarif and Mr Baker his dragoman and a man carrying his elaborate photographic appliances. We rode across the corn fields for 3 or 4 miles, enveloped part of the time in blowing mists, past a ruined village called Jelul [Jalul], then the mists cleared and {showed us} we saw a most wonderful country - miles and miles of rolling grass stretching far away to a dim horizon of low hills, and dotted over with black tents and white flocks. In a dip we came suddenly upon a great encampment of Christians from Madeba [Madaba] and stopped to photograph them and their sheep. They were milking them, the sheep being tied head to head in a serried line of perhaps 40 at a time. We went on and on, the ground rising and falling and always the same beautiful grass - no road, we went straight across country uninterrupted by fence or tree - till we came to the first builing we had seen since Madeba, a square Khan, half ruined, standing on the edge of a great cistern, broken and empty of water. Below it was another big encampment of Christians and we again stopped to photograph while they brought us salted cakes made of goats' milk, rather nasty, and excellent laban. This place is called Ziza [Jiza], it was once a big town, of which the ruins crowned the neighbouring tell. We went to the top of the Khan and saw Mashetta [Qasr el Mushatta] some 5 miles away across the grass. The people were most friendly and one man insisted on mounting his little mare and coming with us, just for love. So we all cantered off together, through many flocks and past companies of dignified storks walking about and eating the locusts, till we came to the next object of interest which was the Haj [Hajj] road, the pilgrim road to Mecca [Makkah]. Road of course it is not; it is about 1/8th[?] of a mile wide and consists of hundreds of parallel tracks trodden out by the immense caravan which passes over it twice a year. We next came to some camps and flocks of the Beni Sakhr, the most redoubted of all the Arab tribes and the last who submited to the Sultan's rule - "very much not pleasant" said Tarif - and now we were almost at the foot of the low hills and before us stood the ruins of Mashetta. It is a Persian palace, begun and never finished by Chosroes I who overran the country in 611 of our era and planned to have a splendid hunting box out in these grassy plains which abound with game. But his reign came to an abrupt close, Mashetta was abandoned and forgotten by all except the Arabs who wintered their flocks under its brick domes, until Canon Tristram rediscovered it. It is four square; a magnificently carved gateway leads into a great open court at the end of which stands the brick palace with a columned door, from which the arch has fallen in some earthquake, and roofed with great gaping vaults of brick, half fallen in. It looked indescribably beautiful and pathetic, standing solitary in the rolling plains with no inhabited place within 30 miles of it but the black tents of the Arabs. The day was soft and warm, the light glorious, with an occasional great soft cloud sending its long shadow over the plains, the beauty of it all was quite past words. We stayed about 2 hours, lunching and photographing - it's a thing one will never forget as long as one lives. At last, most reluctantly, we turned back on our 4 hours' ride home. We hadn't gone more than a few yards, before 3 of the Beni Sakhr came riding towards us, armed to the teeth, black browed and most menacing. When they saw our soldier they threw us the salaam with some disgust and after a short exchange of politenesses, proceeded on their way - we felt that the interview might have turned differently if we had been unescorted, all the more when Tarif told me that one of them was Fa'is, Sheikh of the Sukhur and son of the great Sheikh Zottam whom Tristram talks of. We rode on to the Beni Sakhr tents and were greeted with enthusiasm and given the most excellent sheep's milk. Once past the inspection of the Sheikh all was well. Many of these people were negroes - one of the Sheikh's companions was a full blooded negro to all appearance. They were all armed with pistols, guns and knives. We now parted with our Christian - his name was Salem Yacoub, may god increase his good! - and rode on straight across the plains putting up several foxes, and a little grey wolf. Unfortunately we did not see the white gazelles of which there are said to be many. Tarif says there are also jackals and hyenas. Just as we came to the edge of the cornfields, again two of the Beni Sakhr sprang up seemingly out of the ground and came riding towards us. Exactly the same interview took place as before and they retired in disgust. We got in at 5, quite delighted with our day. The good Hanna had seen me coming from afar and brought me my tea at once. I parted with Mr Baker, who has been a most agreeable companion and a distinct addition to the pleasure and success of the day. The Effendi then came to call and was much pleased to hear that I was so well satisfied. In all the country we have been over today and for Heaven knows how many miles before, there is not a tree or bush, nor any running water till you reach the Euphrates. The nomads depend entirely on their tanks. I don't think I have ever spent such a wonderful day. Fri 23. [23 March 1900] Hanna woke me at 6.30 just in time to see a lovely sunrise across the Madeba [Madaba] plains. At 7.30 I went up to the Serai to see if the Effendi wanted to be photographed but I found him so busy that he had not had time to get into his swell clothes, so we arranged that it was to be for when I came back. Hanna then took me to see his fiancÇe who is extremely pretty and I photographed them together to their great delight. The Effendi insisted on sending a soldier with me to Kerak [Karak]. It is quite unneccessary, but this is the penalty of my distinguished social position! and also, I think, of my nationality, for the Turks are much afraid of us and he probably thinks I have some project of annexation in my mind! The Circassian - for he is again a Circassian, is good looking and pleasant. They are an agreeable race. His name is Mahmud. I soon discovered the reason of the Effendi's "much work". Three months ago a Circassian bashibazouk disappeared and has never been traced, and a miserable Madeba Christian has been accused of murdering him, his own Mohammadan servants bearing witness against him. His religion is almost a sufficient proof of his guilt in the eyes of the government and he and his whole family, together with the servants, were being packed off to the Mutassarif at Karak. He will probably be imprisoned and heavily fined, for he is well off. There seems to be no proof at all against him. We all travelled together the whole morning. I was off at 8 and had a dull 3 hours across the uplands, mostly in cultivated country and with no view, for there was always a little roll of the ground between us and everything. We then reached the top of a deep and beautiful valley, the Wady WÉly, into which we descended and lunched by the edge of the stream in a thicket of oleanders. There were the ruins of a Roman bridge close by and I saw several dolmens scattered up and down the valley. I had a long talk with the prisoner, poor dear! but I could give him nothing by my deepest sympathy. The baggage mules passed us and went on and after an hour's rest I too started off up the hill. Half way I met an English clergyman, Mr Hall (I know of him though I don't know him) and sent messages by him to the Rosens. From the Wady WÉly there was again a very dull 2 hours, up and down and very hot. You know what this sort of travelling is like, gorgeous fun but with moments of tedium and weariness. Then, quite suddenly, I found myself on the edge of a perfectly magnificent gorge, 2000 ft deep I should think - the Mojib [Mujib (Arnon)] is its name. It took me a full hour to walk down and the mules were 2 hours at it. We were on the Roman road all the day - paved on the flat, hewn out of the rock in the gorges. I saw milestones and the fallen pillars of Heaven knows what temples or guard houses. There are the ruins of a bridge over the stream just by my camp. Oh my camp is too lovely tonight! I am in a great field of yellow daisies by the edge of a rushing stream full of fish and edged with oleanders which are just coming out. (I have a bunch of them in my tent) On either side rise the great walls of the valley and protect me from every breath of wind. I have just been having a swim in the river under the oleander bushes and Tarif has shot me a partridge for dinner. It's a pleasant change from my ugly little camping ground on the Madeba plains. Such a croaking of frogs! Between the WÉly and the Mojib I passed the ruins of Diban [Dhiban] where the Moabite stone was found and which was probably a great place in Mesha's day but has now scarcely one stone left upon another. I'll tell you something curious - you know how much of a Christian I am as a rule, well, you can't think how much more of a Christian I am here! The mere fact of having been brought up in a common superstition draws one to - shall I call them one's co-religionists? - here and I quite sympathise with the man in Sir A Lyall's poem who found himself obliged to die for a faith in which he did not believe. I now feel as if I must move Heaven and Earth to get a Protestant church built in Madeba, which my friend Salim begged me to do - but I daresay I shan't! There is a very pretty white broom flowering, Mashallah! Oh the nice sound of water and frogs and a little screaming owl! Sat 24. [24 March 1900] GrÃ…sse aus Kerak [Karak]! do you know where to find it on the map? it's quite a big place I assure you. To begin at the beginning - I got up at dawn and bathed in the river which was delicious. We were off about 8 as usual and for an hour and a half climbed up the steep side of the valley. On a little plateau near the river there were many broken columns and further up agreat four square ruin - a Roman guard house. The scarlet tulip was in flower, very lovely. At the top of the gulf there was another big Roman ruin and a tiny modern guardhouse with 2 soldiers in it who brought me coffee. The place was remarkable for possessing 2 trees - terebinths; they are the only trees I have seen for 4 days. We now rode on under the base of a little hill called Shihan which I can see from my windows in Jerusalem [(El Quds esh Sherif, Yerushalayim)]. It is covered with ruins of a Moabite town, supposed to be the capital of King Sihon and therefore very old. I could see the terraced lines of the old vineyards though now over all the wide rolling plains there was nothing but a very few patches of wheat far away - and the Roman road stretching straight as an arrow in front of us, paved and edged with a low double wall, one stone high. There were lots and lots of ruins, villages and towns - what a country it must have been! At 12.30 we reached a place that had been a landmark for miles in that great emptiness - Kasr Rabba, the castle of Rabboth Moab, the Arabs call it. It is not a castle at all, but a Roman temple, the strong stone walls of which are still standing up to some 15 ft high. Inside it is filled up with fallen stones and columns and Corinthian capitals over which the lizards run. White garlic sprouted in clusters out of the cracks in the walls. We lunched here and rested an hour and then on again over the endless plains. In half an hour we came to the ruins of Rabba - Rabboth or Ar Moab, a Roman town built on a Moabite. The ruins cover a big extent of ground and consist of heaps of cut stones and any amount of cisterns and vaults, and one temple more or less standing upright - at least there are two columns standing and a bit of the end wall. We came in by the Roman road and I saw quite clearly the ruined walls protecting the gateway, and the grooved lintel stone. There was a milestone lying a little way off, face upwards, but with the inscription quite effaced. Then came a boring 2 hours, up and down over ridges, which were exactly like the furrows of a gigantic field, and never anything to see but the next furrow nor anything to think of but whether there would be another - and there always was. At length, quite suddenly, there opened below us an enormous valley, splitting in the middle to made place for a steep hill almost as high as the plateau on which we were standing, and the top of the hill was set round with great Crusader forts with acres of mud roofs between - it was Kerak. We went down and down and up and up and at 5 o'clock passed under the northern fort and entered the town. The mules were ages behind so I filled up the time by going to see the English doctor, {Wheeler} Johnson is his name, to whom I had letters. I found him in and friendly; he took me into his house and left me with 2 Arabs while he went off with my people to show them the best place for my camp. While he was gone his wife came in; they have been married 18 months and have a baby which they have called Ruth - obviously. She is quite a nice woman, she was 4 or 5 years teaching in a school in Jerusalem before she married. She gave me tea and Dr Johnson came back and we sat talking for an hour, the great subject of discussion being whether I could get leave from the government to go to Petra which is 3 days from here and most most wonderful. Time will show! at any rate I stay here tomorrow. After tea Dr J. took me down to my camp where we found an official who had come to find out who I was and whither going; we satisfied him and they all went off and left me in peace. My camp is pitched in the north west angle of the town. The steep valley goes straight down below me; I am just under the great n-w fort and beyond it I look right down the valley across the Dead Sea [(Yam Hamelah, Bahret Lut)] to the hills of Judea and Jerusalem. A beautiful clear sunset and the flocks of goats coming home up the rocky paths - these are as yet my chief impressions of Kerak. Sun 25. [25 March 1900] I'm going on to Petra! You see it's this way and I shall probably never be within 3 days of Petra again. What with giving out that I'm a German (for they are desperately afraid of the English) and what with Dr Johnson's efforts, I have got permission and a soldier from the Governor and this is always difficult and often impossible, and I can't but think that the finger of Providence points southwards. I wd telegraph to ask your permission, but there's no telegraph nearer than Jericho! I think a missionary and his wife, Mr and Mrs Harding, are coming with me; they are nice people and I shall like to have them. He has gone to see about mules etc now, and we are off at dawn. I have spent a pleasant day here. It has been hot and glorious. After breakfast I took a Keraki guide and climbed onto the eastern hill across the valley to get a good view of the town. I then found that it was a peninsula, so to speak, the isthmus being at the SW corner where the great double Crusader fort protects the only weak spot. I walked all round under the walls and a more wonderful robber stronghold I never saw. Except at that one corner, the valleys drop sheer down 1000[?] ft or more on every side and the crown of forts spring up on scarps of solid rock. I photographed and came back to my tent determined to penetrate into the SW fort which is now used as barracks for the Turkish soldiers. Dr Johnson had told me I could not possibly get permission, so I asked for none, but took Hanna and walked calmly in, in an affable way, greeted all the soldiers politely and was shown all over! It's a double fort, the outer one standing right away from the line of the wall, with an underground passage connecting it with the inner. The whole ground is honeycombed with passages and great vaulted rooms. I was taken down into one of these passages; it had little cells on either side and in these the soldiers sleep - pretty damp they said it was and I can well believe them. It was almost pitch dark, being lighted by a few holes in the roof. They brought some tapers for me and showed me some stones let into the walls and carved with big rose bosses. As I was walking about I came to the edge of a deep pit and whom should I see at the bottom of it but my poor Madeba [Madaba] friends! It was the prison; there were underground chambers on either side of the pit, but they were all sitting outside to enjoy the sun that straggles down at midday. We greeted each other affectionately. I then went down a long outer stair to a lower floor, so to speak, of the forts, and here again was shown great vaulted rooms cut out of the rock. These are all inhabited by soldiers and mules. I felt I had done a good morning's sightseeing and came back to my tent where I was presently fetched by a little Turkish girl, the daughter of an Effendi, who told me her mother was sitting down in the shadow of the wall a little below my camp and invited me to come and drink coffee. We went down hand in hand and I found a lot of Turkish women sitting on the ground under a fig tree, so I sat down too and was given coffee and as they all but one talked Arabic, we had a cheerful conversation till I was called away to see the Johnsons and the Hardings who had come to pay me a visit. They walked me down to a Mohammidan tomb from whence we had a glorious view down the valley and across the Dead Sea [(Yam Hamelah, Bahret Lut)] - it is supposed to be the tomb of Noah and honoured as such, I leave you to judge with how much archaelogical [sic] correctness. Under this western wall is the old town gate. It is an arched passage cut out of the solid rock and winding up underneath the wall. There is a similar gate in the east wall and these were formerly the only entrances. I lunched with the Johnsons and walked up to the Serai with him and waited outside while he interviewed the Pasha. He retuned with the joyful news that I might go to Wady Musa [Wadi Musa] (which is Petra) and I returned to my camp to make various arrangements for tomorrow's start. I went up to tea with the Hardings and found them all agog to come too and we spent the rest of the evening plan making. It's a glorious hot night. We bought a lamb today for a medjideh - under 4/ - which seems cheap. He was a perfect love and his fate cut me to the heart. I felt if I looked at him any longer I should be like Byron and the goose so I parted from him hastily - and there were delicious lamb cutlets for supper! a most pleasant change from the tough hens I have been eating till now. Mon 26. [26 March 1900] And so I am again on the road - pas sans peine however. We had settled to start as early as possible. Before 7 I was quite ready and went up to see what the Hardings were doing. Their mules had not even arrived! After about an hour's waiting (I had previously sent mine on) they came and chiefly owing to my servants' exertions, we got them packed and despatched. But the Hardings had still no horses to ride and finally after another hour, she decided to take a mule, which has proved a great success, and we went off leaving Mr H. to follow. My soldier is again a Circassian and his name is Ayoub-Job. He appears to possess the complacent disposition of his namesake but he has little of the Arabic, his native tongue being of course Turkish. We went out of the east gate, and followed up a shallow valley till we got out onto the rolling tableland. Across this we rode for 4 hours, passing few people, one tiny village and one small encampment. We were on the Roman road and there were a few ruins by the wayside. One had an arch standing and may have been a Crusader church. We then came to a deep valley something like the Mojib [Mujib (Arnon)], but wider and not so steep; it's called the Wady el Ahsa [Hasa, Wadi el]. It was blazing hot going down it. We got to the bottom about 2 and while we were lunching Mr H. caught us up. He was very tired and it seemed that we were 6 hours from the next water which was too far for the mules, so after much consultation with Ali and Mohammad, I agreed to stay here for the night. We have a beautiful flowery place for our camp and I have been bathing in the stream. The men have shot partridges, and caught fish in a most ingenious way. They put a basin weighted with some stones in the stream with a little bread in it and cover it with a cloth in which there are a few holes. The fish swim in, to eat the bread and can't get out. They are very small. The H.s are quite nice; I hope I shall be able to bustle them along a good long way tomorrow! My servants are admirable. They are always ready to lend a hand for anyone else and my own camp goes like clockwork with never a hitch. Hanna is the prop and stay of it all; the 2 muleteers are also extremely good servants and we have vowed always to travel together. Tues 27. [27 March 1900] I got up at {3.30} 4 and found the valley lighted by a little waning moon just rising. It was nearly 6 before we were off, up a long long side valley and then along endless uplands where we stopped a flock of goats and got some milk from them. There were a few shepherds, one or two people ....... up the ground with their wooden ploughs and some totally ruined villages, probably very old, and beyond these no sign of life. At last we came out onto the top of a valley running down to the Dead Sea [(Yam Hamelah, Bahret Lut)] and looked down away and away to the S. end of the sea and in front of us a green oasis and a mud village perched up on a mound. It was our lunching place, Tofeileh [Tafila]. The valley was full of springs, corn, olives, figs and flowering apricots, in it; we encamped by the side of a stream about 10.30 or 11 and lunched. We did not get off again till 1.30 for some of the horses needed shoeing and we tried to buy provisions, but failed to get anything but barley for our horses. We sent Ayoub on with the mules and ourselves followed when we were ready, up and up for a couple of hours till we got onto the edge of an enormous valley, bigger than any we had yet seen, the Wady Bseira. Fortunately we had not to go down into it but turned to the left and rode along the top of it while it shallowed rapidly up and became quite a small dip before we crossed it. At the stream we met Ayoub and the mules and rode up another hour till we got pretty near the top of the hill and here we camped on a delicious grassy place near a spring. But it was very cold. We were so high up that it felt quite like the tops of mountains. We didn't get in till 6 and I was so sleepy that I slept till dinner time and went to bed directly after to sleep another 9 hours. Ayoub, poor dear, was ill. I wrapped him in the carpet of my tent and gave him hot tea - Wed 28 [28 March 1900] - and this morning he was better. But he won't eat, so I have to look after him and feed him on bits of chocolate at intervals (he loves it, he had never tasted it before) and make him drink milk whenever we come to a flock of goats. It was bitter cold when I got up at 6 but as soon as the sun rose we were all unfrozen and started off a little before 8. From the top of our hill we had a wonderful view - the rugged broken valleys descending into the Ghor [El Ghor] to the S. of the Dead Sea [(Yam Hamelah, Bahret Lut)] on our right, and to our left an enormous flat stretch with a horizon like that of the sea, a couple of little volcanic hills in it and then as flat as your hand as far as we could see. In fact the desert. There was no grass on it, but a green scrubby plant covered it. In front of us, far away, a low line of hills marked where the rugged Wady Musa [Wadi Musa] country began. There was a tiny village below us on a spur of a great ridge, Dana, and later on we passed to the east of a Crusader fort, Mons Regalis they called it, Shobek [Shaubak] is its more ancient and its modern name. Beyond there we saw not a single house or tent all day. There were a few shepherds and a few ploughmen, very few, and not a soul beside. We didn't get into the cultivated country - if I can so call it - till about 12 when we entered a shallow valley, the Wady Negel [Nigil, Wadi], with a stream in it and a little grass and corn. We lunched here and heard that we were still 6 hours from Wady Musa. One of the great difficulties of this journey is that no one knows the distances even approximately and there is no map worth a farthing. Another is that the population is so scanty we can't get food! This is starvation camp tonight; we have nothing but rice and bread and a little potted meat. No charcoal and no barley for our horses. After Wady Negel we rode over the dullest desert country for 2´ hours, then followed up a little valley in which trees were growing, a thorn covered with misletoe and a big tree which the books called Turpentine tree. We pased the watershed and turned down to the left till we came to our camping place, a spring called Bir el Tabagha, at 6. We are in a shallow winding valley (see passim!) with no view and the wind, which has been cold all day, is now bitter. I have not yet put on all the clothes I have got with me to go to bed in, but I think I shall tonight! It's a pity the Romans don't keep their guard houses in better repair! There's's a big one quite near us, but you couldn't call it airtight! We have been on the Roman road all day. The men are all in good spirits and we are extremely cheerful. It is a good joke, you know! The govt. had great difficulty in subduing this country and 4 years ago, 2 years after the occupation, the Beni Tai rose and fought a battle near Shobek. I asked Ayoub if all was quiet now. "The Arabs are like sheep" he said. There are Turkish soldiers all along the road at Tofeileh [Tafila], Shobek, Wady Musa, but this is chiefly, I think, because they fear the English may come up this way from Egypt! They are keeping a very tight hold on all the line and ruling the country very well. There are as yet scarcely any taxes, only a poll tax of a medjideh, and a few pshara (a minute sum) on every head of cattle. The salt and tobacco momopoly don't hold here. Thurs 29. [29 March 1900] Wady Musa [Wadi Musa] - for at length we have arrived and it is worth all the long long way. Well we got up at 5.30 and bitter cold it was, and I for one did not raise the average of washing in the camp. However as soon as the sun rose we began to unfreeze. At 7.45 we were all off and down the valley; we committed the mistake of leaving the Roman road and lost our way for a little, but soon came out onto the top of the slope and saw in front of us, purple and black, the rugged line of Mount Hor. With this to guide us, we descended to the village of Wady Musa where we hoped to get provisions, but devil a hen there was, so we despatched a man post haste to the nearest bedouin camp for a lamb, and as yet - 7. PM - none has appeared! However we have got leben and barley and butter so we can support life with our own rice and bread. What the people in Wady Musa live on, I can't imagine. They hadn't so much as milk. These things settled, we rode on and soon got into the entrance of the defile which leads to Petra, the Bab es Sik. We had already passed a couple of rock cut tombs with pillared courts carved in the solid rock, and we pressed forward eagerly. The Bab es Sik is a passage about ´ mile long and in places not more than 8 ft wide; the rocks rise on either side straight up 100 ft or so, they are sandstone of the most exquisite red and sometimes almost arch overhead. The stream runs between, filling all the path though it used to flow through conduits and the road was paved; oleanders grew along the stream and here and there a sheaf of ivy hung down over the red rock. We went on in ecstasies until suddenly between the narrow opening of the rocks, we saw the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. Imagine a temple cut out of the solid rock, the charming facade supported on great Corinthian columns standing clear, soaring upwards to the very top of the cliff in the most exquisite proportions and carved with groups of figures almost as fresh as the chisel left them - all this in the rose red rock, with the sun just touching it and making it look almost transparent. As we went on the gorge widened, on either side the cliffs were cut out into rock tombs of every shape and adorned in every manner, some standing, columned, in the rock, some clear with a pointed roof, some elaborate, some simple, some capped with flauted pyramids, many adorned with a curious form of stair high up over the doorway like this [sketch]. The gorge opened and brought us out into a kind of square between the cliffs with a rock cut theatre in it and tombs on every side. We went on and got into a a great open place the cliffs widening out far on every side and leaving this kind of amphitheatre strewn over with mounds of ruins. And here we camped under a row of the most elaborate tombs, three stories [sic] of pillars and cornices and the whole topped by a great funeral urn. They are extremely rococco, just like the kind of thing you see in a Venitian [sic] church above a 17th cent. Doge leaning on his elbow, but time has worn them and weather has stained the rock with exquisite colours - and in short I never liked Boromini so well! Of the town itself, little remains - a big building with elaborate late ornamentation by the edge of the stream, and a triumphal arch, much ruined, near it, and further on one column and the corner of an apse, which the books say was part of a church. But the rocks all round are like the most fantastic buildings you could imagine; they rise in spires and pyramids and are worn into deep overhanging cornices and columned facades so that you have to look twice before you can determine which is nature and which is art. We walked about all the afternoon and photographed and were lost in wonder. It is like a fairy tale city, all pink and wonderful, as if it had dropped out of the White King's dream and would vanish when he woke! The great paved roads stretch up to a ruined arch and vanish, a solid wall springs up some 6 ft and when you look for the cornice of the palace there is none, and on every side black doorways open in the rock and lead into vast chambers which are only the tombs of Petra. "A rose red city half as old as Time" - that might have been written for it. It was very hot all day and just before sunset I went down to the stream where I had observed some beautiful pools in the solid rock - even the stream follows the example of everyone else and hews its pools in smooth sandstone - and bathed there. The oleanders dropped into my bathroom on one side and on the other there was a long piece of splendid masonry embanking the water. It's warm and heavenly. I can scarcely believe in yesterday's cold. The sunset set the pink rocks ablaze and the sepulchral rooms were as though they were filled with fire. I wish the lamb had come! Friday 30. [30 March 1900] I have had a busy day. An hour before dawn Ayoub and I started off riding, with a shepherd to guide us, to the top of Mount Hor - you realise that no daughter of yours could be content to sit quietly at the bottom of a mountain when there was one handy! It was not much of an ascent - we rode up nearly to the top and then dismounted and climbed to the highest summit on which stands, whose tomb, do you think? Aaron's! It's a great Mahommadan pilgrimage place; all about this country wherever the summit of Mount Hor is visible you can see heaps of stones piled up on which the Arabs have sacrificed a lamb to the Prophet Aaron. Ayoub and Hamdan (my guide) kissed the four corners of the tomb most piously and then took me down into a little dark hole, by the light of an oil lamp - I couldn't see much point in it, in fact I couldn't see anything at all, but it seemed to be part of the business. They knew nothing but that pilgrims generally went there! There was a wonderful view to the south and west, over all the Southern Ghor [El Ghor] and the rocky valleys leading into it. Wady Musa [Wadi Musa] was hidden by a higher rock and towards the east the range of hills we came over closed the view. We got back into Wady Musa about 8 and I flew off to photograph the temple, the theatre and some other things that wanted morning light. Then Tarif and I explored two of the side valleys, one of which the stream flows through and in it are a few olives and pomegranates and aloes escaped from the old gardens. Wonderful as the ruins in Wady Musa are the rocks themselves are still more wonderful. I have never seen anything like these gorges; the cliffs rose for a 1000 ft on either side, broken into the most incredible shapes and coloured! - red, yellow, blue, white, great patterns over them more lovely than any mosaic. It was now 12.30 and as I had had nothing but a glass of leben and a slice of cake at 4, I began to feel rather hungry. Besides, it was blazing hot. So I came back to my tents and found we had bought 50 eggs, some figs and a sheep! but unfortunately the sheep has grown rather old in his long journey to us. We lunched on some partridges the men had shot - the echo of their guns from side to to side of the cliffs is extraordinary - and then I slept a little and at 3.30 started off with Tarif and the shepherd to see the place they call the De'r - monastery. It was hot! however we soon turned into a narrow rocky gorge and walked up in the shade. It was more dream like than ever - the rocks, the great precipices and horrid cliffs rising into great pinacles and towers. The sides of the cliffs waterworn into long parallel lines of columned niches (I am not exaggerating) supporting an overhanging cornice and the path going upwards over flights of steps cut in the solid rock. Two great ravens sailed out over an immense gulf and we saw traces of gazelle - otherwise complete desolation. We came to the top, turned a corner and were face to face with a vast temple cut out of the rock begween high cliffs. It was too wonderful, this elaborate, finished product of civilization in such a wild place. I stood and gasped - and then I photographed! Inside is a big square chamber with a niche cut back at the end which looks like an altar niche and was probably so used in Christian times. I got back about 5 and bathed in a delicious pool and now it's dinner time. When I went up Mt Hor this morning, Hamdan impressed upon me that I must leave some money for the Prophet Aaron and I promised I would; but what with photographing and one thing and another, I forgot, and he reproached me as I came down, so I said I wd give him something for the Prophet Aaron. When it came to settling up, I gave him half a medjideh at which he protested (it was ample really) and said there had been a lady once who had given him a French lira. Tarif and I laughed at this tale whereupon he turned on me and said I had promised something for the Prophet Aaron. I gave him a beshlik (3 ps) recognising the Prophet's claim, and no doubt he will fly up Mt Hor first thing tomorrow to give it to him! I need not say that I am quite indifferent as to whether my beshlik ever reaches the Prophet Aaron, or remains in Hamdan's dirty keeping.  Sat 31. [31 March 1900] We left Petra at 7 this morning with great regret. It was looking too exquisite and I longed for another day, but the Hardings were bound to be back. I certainly underestimated the length of the Sik, the entrance gorge. It must be quite a mile, perhaps more. So far we have come over exactly the same road and we are camping tonight at the place we lunched at on Wednesday, the Ain Nejleh. It is a nice little dip, grassy, with a charming stream of clear water in which I have just been bathing. Very bare, however, with never a tree. We had a short day as Mrs H. is rather knocked up, and got here about 2. After setting up our tents, Hanna, Ayoub and I rode off to Shobak [Shaubak] which is a place I mentioned to you on Wed. It is only 20 minutes from here over the hills, a fortress set up on a steep mound, the valleys being very deep on the S. and E. and filled with corn, figs and olives. Inside, it is the usual collection of mud hovels, with the ruins of a church just within the single gate. I had a succäs fou! There are 6 or 7 soldiers stationed there and at all times it must be pretty dull, but more than ever now for all the inhabitants have gone off to the Spring pastures, so that any outsider is a godsend. They took me into what I might perhaps call the barracks, a little vaulted room in the corner tower, and made me coffee (we all drank out of the same cup, pace Mother!) while I told them about the war and then they showed me all over Shobak. The chief object of interest I couldn't see because the door was locked. It is a well in the centre of the town, you go down 365 steps to the water which is contained in two great cisterns. They must be about on the level of the stream in the valley, from whence they are fed, and I imagine they were made in Crusader times in case of siege. The crowning joy was when I photographed them on the battlements, promising to send them copies through Ayoub. We talked a great deal about Arab Arabia and its ruler, Ibn Rashid who lives a little beyond Jof [Jawf, Al (Al Jauf)], and Jof is 18 days from Ma'an and Ma'an is the last outpost of the Sultan's soldiery, a day's journey from Wady Musa. I should like to go there! Finally I left, with blessings heaped upon me, promising to send up some medicine to one of my friends, whose symptons were that his stomach had been hurting him for some days! I told Mr H., who despatched something harmless to him. It has been very hot all day, but is now most pleasant.  Sun Ap 1. [1 April 1900] We were off at 7 this morning and rode 2´ hours along the former road across the wide stretching uplands. The monotony was broken by keeping a watch for the Roman milestones. We were going very slowly so as to keep in touch with the mules and we passed one every quarter of an hour the whole way. The paved road was often very well preserved. It was blazing hot. We lunched at the opening of the usual broad shallow valley where there was a very dirty pool at which the mules watered, and one tiny thorn bush under the shade of which we tried to sit, but as it was 11 there was not much shade to be had. In all this country there is practically no water, there are a few cisterns scattered over the hills and I should think, emptied before the middle of the summer and where we are camping a couple of wells and that's absolutely all! I nearly went to sleep on my horse this morning, but was wakened up by hearing Ayoub relating to me tales of Ibn Rashid. One gets so accustomed to it all that one ceases to be bored. We set off again at 12 and Ayoub sighted some Arabs on a hill top so he and I and Hanna and Tarif left the others and rode up and over the hill and found a lot of Arabs watering their flocks at a bi'r (that's a cistern). It was a very pretty sight. They brought the water up in skins and poured it into the stone troughs all round and the sheep and goats drank thirstily. I photographed them. We followed the R. road, which runs straight over the tops of the hills, and had wonderful views over the great extent of plain to the SE - a sea, with little volcanic islands rising out of it. We joined the others at our camping place down in the valley at 2.30. It is called Towaneh and was once a big town, the ruins of it stretch up on either side of the valley, but there is nothing now but a cluster of black tents a few hundred yards below us. I paid a call on some Arab ladies and watched them making a sort of sour cream cheese in a cauldron over their fire. They gave me some when it was done, we all eat it with our fingers, and then they made me coffee, and we drank it out of the same cup and it was quite good. It was very difficult to understand them for their vocabulary is perfectly different from mine, however we got along by keeping to simple subjects! These people are gipsies, some of them have just been dancing for me; round my camp fire. It was quite dark with a tiny new moon, the fire of dry thorns flickered up and faded and flickered again and showed the circle of men crouching on the ground, their black and white cloaks wrapped round them and the woman in the middle dancing. She looked as though she had stepped out of an Egyptian fresco. She wore a long red gown bound round her waist with a dark blue cloth and falling open in front to show a redder petticoat below. Round her forehead was another dark blue cloth bound tightly and falling in long ends down her back, her chin was covered by a white cloth drawn up round her ears and falling in folds to her waist and her lower lip tattoed [sic] with indigo. Her feet, in red leather shoes, scarcely moved but all her body danced and she swept a red handkerchief she held in one hand, round her head and clasped her hands together in front of her impassive face. The men played a drum and a discordant pipe and sang a monotonous song and clapped their hands and gradually she came nearer and nearer to me twisting her slender body till she dropped down on the heap of brushwood at my feet, and kneeling, her body still danced and her arms swayed and twisted round the mask like face. She got up and retreated again slowly, with downcast eyes, invoking blessings upon me at intervals, till at last I called her and gave her a couple of beshliks. Near Damascus [Dimashq (Esh Sham, Damas)] is their home and they are going back there from Mecca [Makkah] where they have been near the Prophet (thanks be to God!) and they have seen the holy city (God has made it!) and they hope to reach Damascus in safety (if God please!) They talked Arabic to me but to each other the gipsy tongue which sounded more like Turkish than anything else.  Mon. Ap 2. [2 April 1900] We left this morning at 7. It was very hot, a strong baking wind from the S and a heavy hot mist, most unpleasant. Through this we rode for 2 hours down a long valley, descending very gently, then over another plateau and at last about 11.30 we came to the top of the Wady el Ahsa [Hasa, Wadi el], about an hour further up than the place we crossed it last time. The morning's amusement was again the milestones which were wonderfully well preserved, many of them still standing upright in groups of 3 or 4. I have counted as many as 8 in one place - I don't know why this is unless every succeeding emperor who mended the road put up a few milestones of his own. The inscriptions are always visible, but would generally be very difficult to decypher, the letters being much worn. Besides which a mass of Arab tribe marks have been cut on top of them. Many of them, however, have been read by the learned. At 11.30 we got to the bottom of the valley. The white tamarisk was flowering in profusion and there was a beautiful willow also in flower. We lunched there - it was awfully hot and full of flies. The mules didn't come up for another hour, the men being very much exhausted by the heat and when they arrived we went straight on up the side of the valley for an hour to a tiny village called Aineh ['Aina] where there is a lovely spring and a watermill. The path was delicious, through meadows full of flowers amongst which were masses of purple gladiolus. We were still 6 hours from Kerak [Karak] and 'Alij arrived black in the face from the heat, so that I thought he was going to have a sunstroke. The Hardings were obliged to go on, but I decided to stay here, which is a better plan than wearing out men and mules and having to rest a day in Kerak. I offered Mrs H. hospitality for the night if she liked to stay too, but she refused it, to my relief! They have been very nice, but - well, you know the feeling when one's friends go away! My camp is pitched half way up the hill, with the head of the spring at my door and in front, deep cornfields where the barley is standing in the ear and the storks walking solemnly, up to their necks in green. There has been an immense flock of them flying and settling on the hillside and when I took a stroll I soon found what was engaging the attention of the Father of Luck. The ground was hopping with locusts; on some of the slopes they have eaten every leaf and they are making their way down to the corn. This morning between Towaneh and the Ahsa there was not a drop of water and not a living soul. I have just been watching my people make bread. Flour was fortunately to be got from the mill below us; they set two logs alight and when they had got enough ashes they made an immense cake, 2 ft across and ´ inch thick, of flour and water and covered it over with hot ashes. After a quarter of an hour it had to be turned and recovered and the result is most delicious - eaten hot, it becomes rather wooden when it is cold. The flour is very coarse, almost like oatmeal. These are the moments when my camp is at its best - half a dozen ragged onlookers were sitting round in the circle of flickering light, and a tiny moon overhead.  Tues 3. [3 April 1900] After the great heat of yesterday it was rather surprising to wake this morning and find it quite cool, not to say cold, with a thick mist over the valley from side to side like a roof. We were off a little before 7 and rode up into the mist which enveloped us and covered us thick with white damp. We had to wait for the mules, which didn't know the way, and keep well in sight of them for the first 2 hours. The mists then began to roll off over the great plains and retreated in front of us the ruins of Dettrass, a Roman temple, oriented as far as I could judge, east and west with a big arched niche inside in the east wall and a cornice outside running along the top of the walls, all in tolerably good preservation, and further on a great mass of wall 30 ft high or more, buttresed with round buttresses, presumably part of the castle. From thence we rode on 3 hours, under a grey sky. The wind was very cold, but it was pleasant after our hot days. We reached Karak just before 12 in time to see the Johnsons just starting off to Jerusalem [(El Quds esh Sherif, Yerushalayim)]. I am lodged in a house - a couple of empty guest rooms belonging to the missionaries, into which I have put my camp furniture. A house is a luxurious product of civilization, even an empty one! I lunched with the good Hardings and spent all the afternoon in arrangements of various sorts. Ayoub gave us a great deal of sport. I presented him with a lira as a bakhshish, which was more than ample. He returned it to Tarif saying that he was grateful to me and wanted nothing. This was obviously not so, but I let him go. Presently he came back and asked to be photographed. I complied. He then hung about and said the Mutasarrif wanted to know whether I wouldn't like to take him to Madeba [Madaba]. We talked it over in all friendliness and I refused, but he still remained. I wasn't going to reopen the lira subject, so I called in my muleteers and had along talk with them about the Hauran, with Ayoub standing in the doorway. It was then time for me to go to the Hardings to tea, so I took Ayoub with me and talked matters over with Mr H. The upshot was that we each gave him 10 frcs (my original offer) and he went off quite pleased. He has subsequently told Tarif that he is not content, but we pay no attention. If the Mutasarrif were to hear that he had got any tip at all, Ayoub would get into trouble, as it's strictly forbidden. I hear, by the way, that my poor Madeba friend, the prisoner, has been condemned to 15 years and a heavy fine. I sent him salaams through Ayoub.   Wed 4. [4 April 1900] I was off at 7 this morning and followed exactly the same road as on the 24th. I varied it a little after lunch by riding over the top of Shihan and had a wonderful view over the Dead Sea [(Yam Hamelah, Bahret Lut)] and the mts of Judea. I could see the Mt of Olives quite plainly and Hanna cd see Jerusalem [(El Quds esh Sherif, Yerushalayim)], it was so clear a day. To the E and N the rolling grass plains stretched away to the horizon, broken by deep steep valleys. I got down into the Mojib [Mujib (Arnon)] about 3.30 and found the Johnsons just starting off for the Waleh, the next valley, after their midday rest. The valley has changed a good deal in the last 10 days. The oleanders are further out but the grass and flowers are nearly all burnt up, and in another 10 days will be quite gone. I have been bathing in the delicious river. One of my muleteers, Muhammad is a Druse. If all his sect are like him, they must be a charming race. He is a great big handsome creature, gentle and quiet and extremely abstemious. He eats nothing but rice and bread and figs. It makes me all the more keen to go to the Hauran which is the chief centre of them and I want very much to take these two muleteers with me; they are very capable and obliging and Mohammad wd probably be interesting to have in a Druse country. One mayn't know or see anything of their religious observances, but he has been telling me a great deal about their life and customs. He says nearly all the people in the Lebanon are Druses. He himself comes from Beyrout [Beyrouth (Beirut)], where he lives next door to Ali. They both talk with the pretty, soft, sing-song accent of the Lebanon. I have a good wale of accents with me for Tarif has the Bedouin, and Hanna the real cockney of Jerusalem. They appeal to me sometimes to know which is right. I never was so sunburnt in my life. I haven't peeled, but I'm a rich red brown, not at all becoming! and rather painful besides. All this is in spite of the Quangle Wangle hat you sent me.   Thurs 5. [5 April 1900] I am again writing to you from Madeba [Madaba], where we arrived at 3 this afternoon after a prosperous 7 hours' ride. We left the Mojib [Mujib (Arnon)] early, under cloud, fortunately, which made the long pull up not unpleasant. These deep valleys are the great difficulty of the journey in this country; in fact, in Summer, the Mojib is a peril because of the tremendous reflected heat and the stinging flies. It was delightful to get back into a flower country, for, except the pink cistus, nothing grows on the hills south of the Mojib. The acanthus was in splendid flower, there were many sorts of beautiful thistles, including the blue prickly thing they call hem-hem, the white broom, the purple gladiolus etc. But the gem of the day's flora was a magnificent iris, from black, through every shade of wine colour, to brown, much darker than the one I found before, and scentless. It was flowering in extraordinary profusion; I wish I could send you the bunch I have now in my tent, but I did the next best thing - I grubbed up and carried off a quantity of bulbs. It was spitting with rain when I got to Madeba - it is fated that I shall never arrive in Madeba without some rain. I camped not in my former place, but to the west of the town, and while I waited for my mules which were some way behind, I walked up to the Latin monastery and was received with open arms by a charming gentleman called Jirius (I had seen him before) who gave me coffee and salad, (not together! the salad was a welcome addition to my dinner) and entertained me with conversation most agreeably the while. My camp was all ready when I came back and I held a reception for near 2 hours. First came Hanna's fiancée and her mother, nice people, and then a lot of men dropped in one after another and sat on my campstools and my bed. Some of them were very well informed and asked me most intelligent questions about Europe, America and Australia which I answered to the best of my ability. I was put to it when I was called upon to explain the reasons of the Boer war, but with a great deal of good will on their part, I got through more or less. It rained a good deal on and off, but it has stopped, I hope for good. It's been very warm all day in spite of the absence of sun.   Fri. 6 [6 April 1900] (Jericho again.) Madeba [Madaba], in proportion to its size, must have the largest number of mosquitoes and fleas of any inhabited spot on the globe. Chiefly owing to the mosquitoes, my night was rather a restless one. It also rained a great deal and rain makes an unconscionable noise on a tent, besides the fact that I was troubled to think of my poor people outside. There was still a little rain when I got up at 5, but the clouds lifted and we had no more. I broke up my camp here, sending Tarif home, leaving the muleteers to come on rather more slowly, and riding myself into Jericho with Hanna. We came down the same road that we had come up - but - the Ghor [El Ghor] had withered. In one little fortnight, the sun had eaten up everything but the tall dry daisy stalks. It was almost impossible to believe that it had been so lovely so short a time ago. There were a few hollyhocks still blooming and by the streams oleanders, but that was all. There was fortunately little sun, still it was pretty hot, and the flies! For the number and variety of them not even La Grave had prepared me. My horse was maddened. We got to the bridge at 2 - I always feel when I cross it that I am leaving the real East behind - and here at 3. Jericho doesn't look at all nice, all burnt up and withered. The only beautiful things are the pomegranate trees in full flower. After I had washed and had some tea, I went out and gathered the seeds of a lovely thistle, which I mean to bring home. I was also invited by an Arab into his mud and thorn dwelling and eat leben and bread with him while he questioned me about the journey. The hotel is full of German waiters from Cairo - I prefer the company of the Arab.  Sat 7. [7 April 1900] I was up at 4 and off at 5.30 - a most tedious ride up on tired horses in a hot sun. It took us 6´ hours instead of my normal 4. I amused myself on the way by doing my travel accounts in my head and found to my delight that I have done the journey at exactly 30/ a day as I thought I should. This includes all tips and expenditure of every kind. Dr R. says he thinks it very reasonable, but I mean to cut down my expenses in several ways, notably by dispensing with Tarif, which will save 5/ a day and I hope to do my next journey at very little over ú1 a day. My 21 days have cost ú32 - that's 10/ over the appointed sum. What do you think of this? in connection with future plans, I mean. Of course Petra was not in the bond, so to speak, and if you think I am spending too much money, you had better send me a wire telling me not to go to Palmyra [Tadmur]. I may not be able to manage this anyway. It's possible that when I get to Damascus [Dimashq (Esh Sham, Damas)], I may find it too expensive but I would like you to stop me before I set out if you think fit. And please please, don't let me do it if you at all think it is too extravagant. Because I feel I am having an awful big share of the ú500 and as you are apparently to get nothing for the liquidation, you may not want me to spend so much. I am much interested by your letters about this! I expect your skilful diplomacy will pull it round, but - well, I don't wish to put into words what I think about my Grandfather's action in the matter! The Johnsons must be having a rough time with him. As I reached home yesterday I got into rather a fever for news and my letters - 3 weeks is a long time to be cut off from one's family - and I was awfully relieved to find all well. The letters from you were a great joy. I wish your weather had been more favourable, but you seem to have had a good time. It was delightful to get back to my dear Rosens; they welcomed me with effusion. I washed and changed and had a civilized lunch. Then Ferideh came and we went out together and I did a lot of my settling up business. I also telegraphed to you, the history of my two telegrams being this:- when I decided at Kerak [Karak] to go on, I thought you might be anxious at not hearing from me at the appointed time, so, in the letter which I sent back by a messenger to the R.s I told them simply to say I was prospering. Now you know the whole truth from my second telegram! I went to tea with Mrs Dickson and spent the time till dinner with my various people, settling up. I tipped the muleteers 30 frcs between them and they were quite satisfied. I fear I shall not get them for my next journey as they have found other work awaiting them. It's most annoying. Our plans are these: The R.s and I start off on Monday fortnight, the 23rd, and go up together to the Hauran. It will take us about a fortnight. They come home and I go straight up to Damascus, a couple of days on, and so perhaps across to Palmyra, and the rest as before, reaching Jerusalem [(El Quds esh Sherif, Yerushalayim)] again about the end of May. As the plan stands, it means from 5 to 6 weeks and without Palmyra, from 3 to 4, more like 4 at about ú1 a day and an extra ú10, probably, for Palmyra (that's the tip to the Arabs.)  Sunday 8. [8 April 1900] There is no rest for the sightseer! I began the Easter functions today by getting up at 5 and going off with the R.[Rosen]s, Mrs D. [Dickson] and Mr Dunn to the Ch. of the Sepulchre to see the Latin Palm Sunday service. It was very pretty. Everybody went up to the Patriarch, kissed his hand, and received a palm from him and then walked in procession round and round the church. The French consul, AuzÇpy, sent us up some palms too - we were in a balcony. While the Latin service was going on in our part of the church, the Syrians were holding their service in another chapel, the Copts in a third. I went round and saw them all. The Copt service was in Arabic and there were also a lot of Abyssinians attending it. It was a very hot, still, morning when we went, but when we came back a strong wind had sprung up blowing clouds of dust. It has brought a lot of rain cloud with it; I wish it would rain a little. Uncle Arthur sent me a copy of M [Maurice[?]]'s letter, which I will keep. I am most grateful for it. Bless him! isn't he a capital member of society! The testimony of the Warrenly woman made me swell with pride. I will now conclude these few words - you must read my letter out, evenings, like a book! I hope you won't get very sick of it. It's the penalty you have to pay for having a family that wishes to impart it's every thought to you! By the way, I hope you will go on imparting your every thought to me! I love the Lizzie stories and my sisters' letters. I will let you know by next mail what my Damascus [Dimashq (Esh Sham, Damas)] address will be. Till then, continue to write here. And send me a brief telegram as to your views concerning my plans. I hope the necklace has arrived. Tell Elsa I was much entertained by the photographs - it's a charming size. I like it next best to my own. Oh, it's so nice to be clean and tidy once more! Ever, beloved Father, your very affectionate daughter Gertrude.

I'm delighted the Rs are coming to the Hauran.

By the way, I'll tell you something comic, ha ha! I find I've treated the Prophet Aaron scandalously ill! People have {scarcely} never been allowed onto the top of Mount Hor except with great difficulty and they've always had to sacrifice a goat on the way up! And I only gave the poor Prophet 3 piastres. Isn't it tad[?]! I didn't know anything of this till I got back here and told my tales.