66 CHAPTER VI. A MIDNIGHT RIDE. 'I arose in the night, I and some few men with me; neither told I any man what my God put into my heart to do for Jerusalem: neither was there any beast with me, save the beast that I rode upon. And I went out by night by the valley gate, even toward the dragon's well, and to the dung gate, and viewed the walls of Jerusalem, which were broken down, and the gates thereof were consumed with fire. Then I went on to the fountain gate and to the king's pool: but there was no place for the beast that was under me to pass. Then went I up in the night by the brook, and viewed the wall; and I ́ turned back, and entered by the valley gate, and so returned." Nehemiah ii, 12—15 (R.V.) THE great full-orbed moon was literally blazing down from the Syrian Sky, and Jerusalem lay very still and white in the warm midnight air. Our black servant, from the borders of the desert, saddled the asses carefully, and nimbly they stepped down the stone steps into the dusty road. Away we cantered! Down towards the Damascus Gate, past the black goat-hair tents of the Bedawîn, and past El Heiremyeh (called by some Heidemyeh), perhaps— . . The green hill far away, Without a city wall; Where the dear Lord was crucified, Who died to save us all." It was near midnight, and everyone was asleep. Nothing could be heard save the pattering of the little feet of our nimble asses. We passed down into the Vale of the Kedron, bathed in moonlight, the olive trees casting dark shadows on the ground beneath them. No beggars or lepers about now, all very still. A dog in Siloam raised its voice, perhaps hearing us through that still air. The white tombs of the Moslems lay in the moonlight beneath the walls and facing the east. Now we were near the bottom of the vale. I asked my friend to take my beast, and I went apart awhile under the olives, hard by Gethsemane. I sat and knelt in the shadow beneath one tree, and thought of another moonlight night in the ages gone by, when the Divine Sufferer was here arrested and taken up through yonder gateway in the Jerusalem wall. "Beyond where Cedron's waters flow, To sad Gethsemane; His countenance is all divine, Yet grief appears in every line. "He bows beneath the sins of men; In sad Gethsemane; He lifts His mournful eyes above 'My Father, can this cup remove?'" On my return I found Mr. Hensman talking with some Arabs, who were journeying down to Jericho with a number of horses for a large party who, on the morrow, were to visit the Fords of Jordan and the Dead Sea. We mounted our asses and rode past the so-called Virgin's tomb, and up the steep ascent to the Mount of Olives, turning now and again to look down on Jerusalem as we rose higher and higher. We passed Mr. Atlee's house (where on another night I stayed), and then past the Moslem Wely, which for the Muhammedans and some Eastern Christians commemorates the Ascension. Through some cracks in the door we could see the lamp burning within, in honour of the prophet Isa (Jesus). But we read, "He lead them out as far as to Bethany." (S. Luke xxiv. 50.) We passed through the Moslem village of Et Tûr, and then rode up to the great Russian Church tower or campanile which I had seen from Bethel. "What a glorious scene!" I cried to my companion, for I could scarcely control myself as I looked down on the Holy City, "holy" alike to Christian, Jew, and Moslem, and lying like a white model in the brilliant moonlight. "The full moon rose o'er Anathoth, And gleamed upon the lone Dead Sea, And touched each hoary rock and tree. "In solemn darkness Kedron lay, But all her wealth of light was poured Fondly upon Jerusalem, The ancient city of the Lord."* Then our sure-footed asses found their way down again. into the Kedron valley. It was noticeable that they always endeavoured to get to the shady side of the road in the moonlight. I cannot think that this was owing to any noxious influence which they felt from the moon. a habit acquired in the fearful singeing heat of the day, when every animal naturally seeks the shady side. Unthinkingly they continue this habit in the brilliant moonlight. It was *From "Two Years in Palestine and Syria," by Miss Margaret Thomas. Recrossing the Kedron valley, we rode boldly up to the Bab el Sitti Miriam-the Gate of our Lady Mary as the Christians call it, the Bab el Aswât (Gate of the Tribes) as the Moslems name it. It is the Eastern Wall of Jerusalem. We knocked loudly with our sticks. The Turkish guards within began to bestir themselves, and one soldier opened The Sultan Sulieman caused these lions to be carved on either side of the gate in memory of a strange dream in which he saw lions fighting. Lepers are always sitting and standing near the Gate. It faces the Mount of Olives and was the first by which I entered Jerusalem (by moonlight). the gate a very little. My impulsive donkey promptly pushed itself into the aperture, and scraped through and nearly pushed the soldier over. I clung to my ass vigorously though my feet were knocked out of the stirrups. My |