Strange Kind of Fuel.—The Village Oven.—Women's Work.—Fresh Bread.—The Little Baby.—Landmarks.—Bethel.—My Faithful Friend.—A Trying Time in the Saddle.—Sinjal.
n some towns and villages wood is very scarce and the fuel consists of grass and dried manure. When riding through a village one day we noticed something sticking against the low stone wall, and we naturally wondered what the strange decoration could be. On getting near the wall, to our utter surprise, we found it to be manure which women had made into cakes and placed there to dry. Some day it would be cast into the oven with the bunches of grass.
In our Savior's time grass was burned; for we read, "Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to day is, and to morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?"
The village oven was rather odd looking, being shaped very much like a large jug. There was an opening near the ground for fire, and a hole in the top for the escape of smoke.
When bread is made by mixing flour and water into a thin batter, it is baked by being poured on the outside of a heated oven. This makes thin, wafer-like cakes. But when a stiff dough is made it is baked between two fires made of manure; and when baked in that way it is said the smell of manure is noticeable. We did not tarry long in that village, therefore escaped tasting the vile stuff called bread.
Baking seems to have been women's work ages ago, for we have an account of Samuel telling the Israelites what they might expect if a new king reigned over them, as they greatly desired. After enumerating many things, Samuel said, "And he will take your daughters to be confectionaries, and to be cooks, and to be bakers." Then we read how "two women shall be grinding at the mill, the one shall be taken, and the other left." Grinding flour in small stone mills daily was woman's work, and making bread followed immediately after. But I have written enough to show that what we saw corresponded well with Bible accounts; and it greatly strengthened our belief in the of .
When we started from Jerusalem there was bread enough taken along to supply our wants till the city of Nazareth was reached; but by that time it was not only very stale, but mouldy too. When the fresh supply was given us you may be sure it was welcome. Our bread was baked in the city oven and wood used for fuel. There may have been plenty of dirt in the flour, but I am very sure there was no odor of manure about the bread.
While riding from one camping place to another we passed very large grain fields which were beautifully green. In one of those fields I remember having seen three persons—man, woman and baby—and they were one family. The mother was working hard pulling weeds out of the grain and the father—lazy man that he was—rocked the baby; for it was in a little homemade hammock. Two sticks had been pounded in the ground; to them the baby's cradle had been fastened, and it took but a slight movement to send the little one back and forth,—a very easy task for one so strong. And we thought the man would feel ashamed to have strangers see him sitting there employed in that kind of work. But—do you know?—instead of being ashamed he seemed pleased.
Fences are not seen in Palestine, but the limit of each man's land is known by what is called a landmark. It usually consists of a heap of stones placed at the corner of the owner's land. Persons passing through fields are not always aware whose land they are passing over. Especially is it so if you are a stranger in the country. You know Ruth was a stranger in and around Bethlehem; and when she had permission from Naomi to go and gather ears of corn she happened to get "on a part of the field belonging unto Boaz."
There are dishonest people all over the world. In the Bible we read of such characters, and we come to a passage like this: "Some remove the landmarks; they violently take away flocks, and feed thereof." You see the heap of stones is taken away and nothing is left to mark the boundary line.
At noon we lunched in the ruins of an old church in Bethel. There is where Abram and Lot stopped after leaving Mesopotamia. "And there he builded an altar unto the Lord, and called upon the name of the Lord." "And Esau hated Jacob because of the blessing wherewith his father blessed him." To get away from the angry brother, Jacob fled from home. After traveling until tired and weary, he found a resting place. The sun was set, so Jacob concluded to remain where he was during the night. He had no bed, or pillow either; but "he took of the stones of that place and put them for his pillows, and lay down in this place to sleep." He had a wonderful dream; and possibly you may call it to mind. Then Jacob was afraid; so he "rose up early in the morning, and took the stone that he had put for his pillows, and set it up for a pillar, and he called the name of that place Bethel."
Bethel was a poor village on a hill; the people were half naked, hungry looking creatures, and it seemed to me that all the men and boys of the village had made it a point to be in the ruins of the church that day. My luncheon was not enjoyed, for the sight of those hungry people took away my appetite. The dragoman did not offer them anything, for no doubt he decided it was utterly impossible to furnish food for hungry tourists and a village full of people besides. A bone was thrown to a dog which stood looking on; but the poor fellow lost it, for a gray-bearded Arab caught the animal, took it from him, and without one bit of embarrassment undertook the task of gnawing that bone himself. The dog showed signs of resentment, but no account was kept of that, so the bone was never returned.
The people there are a lazy set, and they almost starve. No attention is paid to farming or gardening, consequently food is scarce and clothing scant. I never waste sympathy on full-grown lazy people; but the poor, half-starved looking children and dogs I felt sorry for.
After resting a while at this place the order was given to move on, and very soon after we were on the rtraveling wearily along. My horse was a very gentle animal, and I had a kindly feeling in my heart for him. Horses in that country get along without a name; but I proposed my faithful friend should have one, so I called him "John." He was not a beautiful animal; oh, no! Really, he was the ugliest animal in the company; but I didn't care. His ears were short—looked as though they had been nipped with frost; then, in addition to that, they had slits cut in them—a distinguishing mark which his master had given him—and I, like his master, could always tell John from all the other horses. If by accident some one had taken him, I was sure to be unhappy till he was returned.
John and I got along real well. He didn't care to trot along briskly, and I was very willing to let him do as he pleased in the matter. Well, to tell the truth, children, I was cowardly, and fast riding made me feel as though I was going to fall right off. Now, I hadn't one bit of a desire to get off of John's back suddenly, and the very thought of such a thing scared me; so we moved along in a lazy sort of a way. Occasionally a servant thought he would put some life in John by using a club; but I allowed no interference. We suited each other exactly, and I'm quite sure John missed me when the last day's ride was ended.
My saddle was a real good English sidesaddle, but, unfortunately for me, it continually slipped out of position on the horse's back. At first thought it seemed to need tightening up; but after doing so several times we found that kind of doctoring proved to be of little account; for every time I took my position over went the saddle again. There was but little enjoyment in the ride that day, for my time was spent in trying to sit erect upon the horse's back. Hour after hour my distress increased, until it seemed hardly possible to ride longer. The continued strain weakened my back so that I could scarcely sit up. Walking would have been a pleasure; but such a thing was out of the question, for the company would ride faster than I could walk, and so leave me far behind.
The day was far spent and it was drawing on toward sundown. Camp, they said, was not many miles away. Oh, how we wished it was only a few steps; but on we rode, with a strong desire to get to the place of rest as soon as possible.
The company was somewhat divided that day. Some of them were away on ahead of us, and a few were quite a little distance behind. The rwas very narrow, and so it was necessary to ride single file. There were rocks of all sizes in the r and some measuring five or six feet in width lying just outside of the path. When only a few feet away from one of them my strength gave way, and the back which had served me so well all day refused to be tried any longer. Near by was my husband, and with trembling voice I said to him, "Please help me, or I shall surely fall, for I'm unable to sit here longer." He sprang to my side, and just in time to keep me from falling from the horse's back. Those great flat rocks came in use now, for my husband placed me upon one of them, and for a while I lay there with my face down. "Oh, what shall we do if I can ride no further?" I thought, "and so far from home and friends." Ah, home never seemed dearer than then; and, children, I was foolish enough to shed tears. But I want to tell you it doesn't pay to shed tears. It does not show bravery, and when sorely tried one needs to brace up. I brushed my tears away and took fresh courage; and let me tell you the Lord helped me do it.
Our horses were anxious, to get to their resting place, so quietly they walked on. The ladies and gentlemen who were riding behind came along one by one, passing us on their way to camp, and they carried word that "Mrs. Miller has fainted." After resting a while we left the rock and together walked on to camp. When almost there the dragoman met us saying, "I was just on my way to bring you in."
You can imagine how glad we were when camp was reached, for there stood the tents, and there was the place of rest. The beds had been made nicely and I found rest upon one of them. Shall I ever forget that experience while passing through the Holy Land? I think not.
"How could you stand such a journey?" has been asked me time and again, and as many times have I answered, "The Lord gave me strength according as I needed it;" for I was unused to hardships and not any stronger than the majority of women. It is quite necessary on a journey like that to be patient, uncomplaining and not fretful, and the Lord is able to give us that kind of a disposition if we call upon him. Many of us would have turned back to Jerusalem willingly, but there was no such thing as going back after having once started. Onward was the cry, and if sickness came upon us we were carried along. If death should be the lot of any one a grave by the ride would be the last resting place. Such graves were passed, and how sad we felt at the thought of some lonely pilgrim having been laid by the ride.
Each day some one of the women felt it almost impossible to go further; but it made no difference, they rode on and on, murmuring not in the least.
I told you the r were in a dreadful condition. The stones were so plentiful it was hard work to see the path much of the way. The horses walked with noses down, smelling as they walked along. In that way they found there truly was a path, and that other horses had gone over the same rocks.
Many of the party had falls from their horses, but no one was hurt. All were so tired they scarcely knew what to do; but I was the only one who had given out. We had traveled thirty-four miles during that day and had been in the saddle almost eleven hours.
Sinjal is the name of an Arab village, and on a high hill near by our tents were pitched that night. Owing to the fact that I was worn out, I saw nothing of the people or village.
We were up the next morning early, not entirely rested; indeed, very far from it; but when ready to mount our horses I was delighted to find the saddle had been adjusted satisfactorily, thanks to my husband, who had insisted upon a change that I might not be compelled to ride in such misery another eleven hours. The fault lay in John; his back was not suited to the saddle, and the lack of flesh was supplied with padding; and ever after that I rode comfortably and never became exhausted again. All that day I was not able to guide my horse, because of extreme weakness; but faithful Yosef led John, and silently we went on.
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