Greek inscriptions dates from the middle of the seventh century; and the names of places, such as Deir en Nasara and Imtâu el Khudr, show that the region attained to eminence during the time that Christianity victorious was becoming degenerate. While we are seated in the guest-chamber with the sheikh and his people, two Arabs arrive, who are a wonderful contrast to the Druzes. They have on them the left-off habiliments of the Jebusites, and they enter the chamber as if going to execution. They cast quick furtive glances at everybody, without being able to meet any one's look in return. Their voices, a kind of glugging bark, seem bor tocrats of the desert look down upon the Druzes as upon a plebeian race. We return past Ormân, where we wave an adieu to the sheikh en passant, and joining some men who are waiting for our protection on the road, we proceed through a fenced country to Sulkhad, where we pitch our tent for the night. Sulkhad is doubtless the Salchah of the Bible, one of the northern boundaries (Deut. iii. 10) of the kingdom of Ag. We find the name in a Nabathean inscription on the front of a church, now used as a dwelling-house, and the name in Arabic is sufficient of itself to indicate the place. Sulkhad is a large Druze village, con rowed from the camel, and appear to sound up out of their boots. They are salt smugglers from the Jowf. There are fine beds of salt at Jerûd and Palmyra; but a few years ago the Turks declared the salt Government property, and forbade any one to carry it away on pain of severe punishment. They did not, however, bring it to the cities themselves, and so the price of salt rose enormously, without any one gaining an advantage from the high price; and so, while enormous piles of salt, like a frozen sea, lie uselessly at Jerûd, a day's journey from Damascus, these creatures are engaged in smuggling it from the distant Jowf. They enter in the most thievish and sheepish manner, and as soon as they are seated they are presented with a bronze basin of water, of which they drink enormously. The Druzes seem to look upon these Arab guests with goodnatured contempt; and I have no doubt these aris taining, according to Burckhardt, 800 houses. The town is situated on south-eastern base of a conical hill which was once a volcano. A magnificent castle now stands on the very crater of the volcano, and the scoriæ, or volcanic cinders, are lying about. The castle is Saracenic, and the walls are full of Greek inscriptions rifled from other buildings. The chief building in Sulkhad is the mosque, which is made up of beautiful odds and ends from temple, and church, and shop. The roof is supported by nineteen arches, which rest on buttresses, built of square stones. The windows are beautiful patterns worked in stone, and the roof is composed of long stone rafters reaching from arch to arch. Five of the arches in a corner are walled off for the secret meeting-place of the Druzes. It must be a sombre assembly-room, for it has no windows, except a few pigeon-holes among the stones. Across the court from the mosque, and standing alone, there is a beautiful minaret, with a belt of white stone round it about halfway up; and on the belt a Cufic inscription, dating from A.D. 1224. Streets of shops lie open and unused, but show many signs of wear and occupation. A large number of houses in the village have been repaired, and are now occupied. The place was almost unoccupied when visited by Burck-wild-looking men are riding through the land and hardt; but the tax-gatherers, and the money-lenders, and other civilising agencies, have driven whole colonies of the Druzes from the Lebanon to these congenial regions. missed the turning to the right, some of our party ride off in search of it, and thus our cavalcade gets divided. We soon grow nervous for the safety of our companions, who are strangers in the country, and start off to look for them, and so we wander about looking for each other in vain; nor is our anxiety diminished by the fact that armed bands of firing off guns. Our muleteers, who have been stealing some growing wheat for their mules, come up breathless, having been chased by "fourteen men" with guns-perhaps there were four. At last, weary of The Sheikh Muhammed el Atrash is absent, for climbing over the billows of a rocky ocean, we leave troublous times have arrived, and the turbulent our errant companions to their fate, and strike right spirits are up and moving. I shall never, however, across the hills for Kureiyeh. About one-third of forget the circumstances under which he received us the ground is under cultivation, with the stones piled on my first visit to Sulkhad. We arrived after dark, up in cairns. We raise one very small black hare and pitched our tent in a tempest of rain. The and two foxes, and we see swarms of partridges and sheikh sent for us, and when we entered his large storks. The small birds are chiefly wheatears and guest-chamber, we found it packed full of Bedawin. Persian larks, which scream a great deal, but have They were the Isai, who had made an onslaught that little music. The ground is covered with hyacinths, day on the Ma'ajal, and had been victorious. We white daisies, and beautiful dark irises. We hurry on had at last before us an Arab army, and an Arab and reach the brow of a hill, and to our inexpressible army flushed with victory. Their spears were yet relief we see our lost party riding up before us into red, and they had the trophies of war with them- Kureiyeh. We had crossed each other, but how we thirteen mares, ninety camels, and forty guns. The cannot explain; no doubt we went up the furrow of rain had driven them to seek a shelter in the sheikh's one wave, and they came down the furrow of another, house, and he was preparing them a feast. A great wishing to regain us. We enter Kureiyeh in comfire was blazing in the middle of the floor, and tongues pany of a shepherd, and find that Ibrahîm el Atrash, of flame licked the stone ceiling. The smoke was and most of the important Druzes of the place, have thick and bitter, but we bore it for sake of the heat, gone to Damascus to try to ward off the coming as our clothes were drenched through and through. struggle. We make a hasty survey of the place, and The dinner could not have been much more savage, pass on to Bosra. At first the ground is very stony. and yet there was order. A brass tray, seven feet By-and-by the stones are gathered out of the fields in diameter, was carried in by four men, and placed and give place to cultivation; and the latter part of in the middle of the floor. On this tray was a great our way is through a broad, wavy sea of wheat, with heap of burgal-crushed wheat, boiled. A number ruins standing up here and there like black islands. of sheep had been cooked together outside in a large The ruins of Bosra stand up massively before us, and cauldron, and two men carried in a pot full of gravy, we enter the city, past a large tank built of cut which very much resembled coal-tar, and poured it stones, just as the setting sun flings back a golden over the heap of burgal. My friend naïvely sug- good-bye to capital and spire of Grecian column and gested, "That is the snowy pyramid we read of; Saracenic minaret. and we held our breath for fear we should be invited to begin. The animals were torn up, each into four pieces, and built up round "the snowy pyramid." The sheikh, when everything was ready, mounted a Christian altar which stood in the corner of the room, and calling out rapidly the names of twenty or thirty, the men rushed forward as they heard their names, and attacked the pyramid. Each caught up a handful of burgal, and rolling it up in a ball, put it into his mouth, and then, tearing a handful of the flesh from some quivering limb, put that in also. When these had fed noisily for about five minutes they suddenly fell back into the outer darkness, and another relay advanced, to the word of command, with bare black arms and hungry eyes. There seems to be this broad difference between an Arab feast and a civilised feast. With civilised people there are courses of dishes, but with the Arabs the men form the courses. And so they advanced, course after course, at the word of command, till, with the seventh course, my muleteers fell in, according to their rank, and fell with great fury-for it was Lent, and they had been fasting-on a great heap of bare bones and greasy burgal. There was a course lower still, and to the last the guests advanced with the same hungry look of desperate determination. We leave Sulkhad for Kureiyeh by the Roman road, and after a short time, fearing that we have Bosra is just what we expected it to be, a splendid city in ruins. Palaces, castles, theatres, baths, temples, colonnades, triumphal arches, churches and mosques, all magnificent, and all in ruins. Bosra was the greatest city in Bashan at the period when Roman rule was leaving its impress upon the land. From the castle we can see the true evidences of Bosra's greatness in the numerous Roman roads that converge to the city from north, south, east, and west. In whatever direction you look, you see those roads narrowing in the distance, until they end in a fine point on the distant horizon. Bosra lies nearly square, its greatest length being east and west, and each side of the rectangular figure being over a mile. It stands in the open plain, but was surrounded by strong walls, and it has now a magnificent castle. The outer walls of the castle are Saracenic, and some parts of them are built almost entirely of columns squared and placed in the walls with the ends out. They also contain numerous Greek and Latin inscriptions, generally placed with the wrong side of the inscriptions uppermost. The walls of the castle, however, were built round a Roman structure, probably a similar castle, as they contain a Roman theatre in a good state of preservation. Smith was busy in Bosra, and he has left engraven on stone over 400 lines of Greek and Latin inscriptions, the earliest of which date from the second century of our era. In one of these we find that the worship of Dusares, whose name we met elsewhere, was still practised in the middle of the sixth century. On a marble column in the great mosque there is one most interesting Greek inscription, contained within two circular lines. It begins thus: "In the name of our Saviour Christ," etc. It is not without pain that one thus meets the name of Christ as one among many deities of a bygone worship. In the mosque of Bosra, which Burckhardt says "is certainly coeval with the first era of Mohammedanism, we see a characteristic specimen of Moslem architecture in its palmiest days; and in front of the mosque, in the accompanying photograph, we see the Dakakin, or little arched shops, which the Moslems built on the sites of Roman boulevards, and in which they squatted beside their piles of wares, and swore, and cheated, as they do to-day in Damascus. By the side of this specimen of Moslem architecture, and for sake of contrast, we place a fragment of architecture from the palmy days of the Roman dominion. These columns, towering above the ruins to a height of forty-five feet, are "the four large Corinthian columns" referred to by Burckhardt as 66 equalling in beauty of execution the finest of those at Baalbek or Palmyra." To show a fine cultivated taste, we should say here, as at Baalbek, Palmyra, and elsewhere, "Yes, yes, very fine, but too florid for correct taste." Evidently we have not yet acquired correct taste, for to us these columns, in the wilderness of ruins, seem wonderfully perfect and surpassingly lovely. What adds to the marvellous effect of these columns is the negligé manner in which they are placed. They stand at irregular distances from each other, and it does not appear that they have ever had any connection with any other building. The cathedral church of Bosra, which was built early in the sixth century, is a fine specimen of Christian architecture. It has a general resemblance to the church of St. George in Ezr'a, but is much larger and finer. A few traces of fresco are still seen on the walls, but it is sufficient to show the idolatrous character of Christianity in Bosra in the sixth century. It would be an instructive chapter that would show how the corruptions of the Christian church prepared the way for the triumphs of Islam. We spend our first night in Bosra in trying to keep the tent over us, for a terrible hurricane is sweeping over the plain, which seems to mingle heaven and earth in one great dust-cloud. The sand is blown into every place, into our mouths and noses, and down our throats, and when we attempt a tea breakfast we have to hold the palms of our hands on the mouths of the cups to keep out the dirt. Sunday morning breaks red and lowering through the dustcloud, reminding me of a morning in the Mediterranean after a tempestuous night. The city enjoys its Sabbath. Doubtless once there was the roar of Sabbath desecration in this great city, but now it is as quiet as the grave-in fact it is the huge grave of a great, proud, luxurious city. The captain of the garrison in the castle, spying our tent among the ruins, sends us word that we must remove our tent into the castle, as the country is in such a disturbed state that he cannot be accountable for our safety beyond the walls of the castle. We feel that to pitch our tent in the castle This is the church of the monk Boheira, who was believed to have coached up Mohammed in Biblical history. would entirely interfere with our object as missionaries, and so, resolving to look out for our own safety, we pitch our tent in a green field, sheltered by a large building with a curiously arched roof. We proceed, however, to the castle, where we find the captain, a handsome young Syrian, drilling his men, and preparing for defence. He has two guns drawn up at the entrance, where there is a guard sufficient to prevent a surprise, and in case of the approach of a large force, to close the huge door. At all the weak points he has sentinels, and watchers on the high towers. The captain conducts us to the commandant, whom we find still in bed. He is a typical little Turk, with bandy legs, and a nose like the scabbard of a Persian scimitar. His toilet is fitted up with a Spartan disregard of luxury. He occupies a little ruinous chamber at the highest corner of the castle near the flagstaff. Over the chinks and holes in the wall bits of the "Illustrated London News" have been pasted, serving as windows, but the violence of the storm has blown them alĺ away. On a straw mat in the corner, this little Turkish officer has his "shake-down," consisting of a few sheepskins, and two leehafs or quilts, stuffed with wool or cotton. Contrary to our wish, we are obliged to enter the room before the little man has got into his enormous trousers-but without betraying any secrets of the chamber of rest, I am free to express my opinion that such sleeping arrangements ought to be conducive to early rising. The little man is delighted to see us, and a letter from the Waly, which I present to him, he places on his head, but he is in a most uncomfortable state of mind, for the people of the Hauran have threatened to abandon their homes to-morrow if the Government persevere in their demands. He declares that they are in a state of siege, and that for the last two weeks all their letters to and from Damascus have been intercepted, and he fears that the people of the Hauran may converge on the Turkish garrison at Bosra. He would not be surprised to see 30,000 or 50,000 armed men appear around the castle at any moment. We ask if he will be able to defend himself, if the garrison will be able to hold out, and he only answers, with Turkish passivity and helplessness, Ulla Karim" (God is honourable). In contrast with him, the captain is full of energy and confidence. He has been indefatigable the last fortnight in trying to make soldiers of the garrison, and now he is waiting watchfully for the shock. A battle is expected today at Mezareeb, and they are listening for the sound of the guns. The wildest rumours are afloat, and the officers assure us that we must not think of leaving for three or four days, as 100 horsemen could not guard us beyond the walls of the city. This news is most disappointing, for we had resolved to strike across the desert by 'Umm el Jemâl to Es-Salt, but these disturbances render such an enterprise out of the question. 669 We spend an uncomfortable day at Bosra, and wander over miles of ruins as far as the Gate of the Winds. Wherever we go we are dogged by tall sooty-looking men with long hair and big clubs. We keep our eye upon them, and they keep at a respectful distance from us. Beyond the walls the suburbs extended far into the plain, as is seen from the numerous foundations, but the houses seem to have been very small and the streets very narrow, both within and without the walls. We spend a long time in the ruined mosque, which has only one entrance, as we feel assured that no one can enter unseen by us. Evidently our followers have lost our scent, for we are left a long time undisturbed. At last a native Christian enters the mosque, makes a casual remark, and slips away. It is time for us to be moving once more, for that Christian has been sent to explore us. And, indeed, for all such business in the Hauran, Christians are employed. At Schwet el Khudr, Hebrân, and Ormân, we had met Christians bearing the "Fiery Cross" through the land. As we leave the mosque a drumming sound at a little distance attracts my companion, and he starts off behind the ruins, promising to circle round to the tent. He is off before I have time to suggest a warning, and I walk off smartly for the tent. As I approach the angle near the four columns, I see a crowd of eight or ten hurrying to intercept me, and as I cannot run past them, I husband all my strength to meet them. As I come up they surround me, and demand my money. I tell them who I am; that I am not an ordinary traveller, but a preacher of the gospel, and that I have books for them if they will come to my tent; that I have no money for them, and that I would not give them any if I had. I am up on a high bank, with my back to a wall, and they are all below me, and thus I keep them at bay for a few minutes. At last the leader of the party seizes me, and instantly he goes rolling like a bundle to the bottom of the bank. The thing is so instantaneous that the whole party seem stunned and paralysed, and I walk quietly away. I move off in such a manner that I can see them without pretending to do so. When I have got about one hundred yards from them I see that they have collected their thoughts and are gathering stones and starting in pursuit. I go on quietly until I get past the corner of a ruin, and then turning straight for the tent, and with more than my old college pace, I leave a quarter of a mile between them and me before they appear at the place where they last saw me. They must think there is magic at work, for though I have got to such a distance from them I am still going at the same old careless pace, and seemingly more interested in the ruins than in them; and thus without further molestation I reach the tent, and find my companion already there before me. The officers visit our tent in the evening, and the watchers are still looking towards the west from the towers. On the previous year we went straight from 'Ary to Mezareeb through a wondrous plain of wheat. On our left, behind and before, the sea of wheat stretched away to the distant hills. When, a few days previously, we had looked down from Jebel Kuleib, we saw what seemed to be little lakes of blood among the wheat. We concluded it was some phenomenon produced by the setting sun and the mirage, but as we passed along we found that wherever there was a break in the wheat the ground was all ablaze with scarlet poppies. In working our way over the hill to Kefr el Laha, we are in doubt about the way, and I strike off to the right to look for the road. Passing over a little hill, a solitary Druze sees me, and makes straight at me. He has an ox-goad, a long pole tipped with an iron spike, in his right hand, and as he comes up close to me, he snatches a dagger out of his belt. According to this man's idea the battle of Mezareeb has been fought, and the Turks have been beaten, and I am one of the Turkish officers escaped thus far. I have now a good idea of what these men are on their native mountains when their blood is up. With head thrown back, and eyes flashing, he bounds up to me like a strong bull of Bashan. He is confounded by my laughing at him. "Don't you see I am an Englishman?" I say to him, with a laugh. His whole demeanour instantly changes, and from being one of the most heroic of men, he becomes a quiet-looking old patriarch, about sixty years of age. He inquires eagerly if I have heard how the battle went, but he is incoherent, and so confused that he sends us on the wrong way. At last we enter Kefr el Laha at a sharp gallop, and the sound of our horses' feet brings the Druzes out of their assemblyroom, swarming like wasps when their nest is touched. Nothing worse happens than a kiss from the sheikh. We rush at each other, place our two hands on the front of each other's shoulders, and reach our heads over as if we were kissing some one behind each other's backs. Thus we do not in reality kiss, we only fall on each other's necks. Two or three alarms have been given IN during the day, when a band of Arabs hove in sight on the horizon: but through the long day of suspense no trustworthy news has reached them. They urge us to remain, as it is impossible to depart in safety, and when we assure them that we should go if there were fifty battles being fought, they insist that we take twelve men of a guard, led by one of themselves. I verily believe the little Turk wants to escape with us to Damascus. We protest in vain, and twelve men are told off to accompany us in the morning. We spend another sleepless night in Bosra, disturbed, however, by no sound except that of the horses crumping their barley, and my companion quoting again and again the Homeric couplet, "And champing golden grain, the horses stood Hard by their chariots, waiting for the dawn." The dawn at last came, and while the morning star "blazed in the forehead of the morning sky," we gave the soldiers the slip, and started for the Druze mountain. THE MANDARIN'S DAUGHTER. CHAPTER XXXV.-REUNION OF CAMERON AND THE NSIDE the city of Soochow a state of anarchy prevailed. There was not only a division in the council of the Taiping chiefs, but their followers were divided into old adherents, chiefly southern men, and new recruits from the north. The former were resolved to hold out to the last, and the latter were anxious to surrender. They were altogether about thirty thousand strong, the greater number being in favour of capitulation. The minority, under the leadership of the Mo Wang, vehemently cried "No surrender! It may be supposed that the household of that chief, including A-Lee, was, under the circumstances, in a state of fear and tribulation. In vain did the ladies try to persuade him to agree with his colleagues to yield up the city and save it from the horrors of bloodshed and famine. 'Why should I yield?" he exclaimed; "are not my men braver and more numerous than the enemy? We can not only defend the city, but rush out of the gates and drive them before us into the sea. Besides, here I have you, my family, and all my property, and even if we were permitted to leave and dwell somewhere in safety, we would be beggars and outcasts the rest of our days. Better to die here than to starve elsewhere!" "But oh! your excellency," interposed A-Lee, pleading with him against what she thought a desperate resolution, in the name of her companions, "what then would become of your wife and daughters, if you, their protector, were gone? I have a father who has perhaps fallen a sacrifice in your cause, and but for your kind protection I should now have been destitute. Consider this matter, and if you can make an honourable surrender, then may you, your family and home, continue to be safe. You tell us that there is a foreign general of great renown in command of the victorious army, and that he will see to the safety of those who return to their allegiance. If so, I know these brave strangers to be true to their word, and men who would protect the poorest woman or child from harm." "I know that, my child," he continued, in a calmer tone of voice;" and if I had only the foreign general to treat with, I would order my men to cut their long hair at once, and wear white turbans, in token of submission. But I have to deal also with treacherous mandarins, who will promise any terms so as to get me into their power, and then they would have no mercy upon me. I am now going to the grand council, where this question is to be decided, and will try to bring over the majority of chiefs to my views." After saying this he quitted the female apartments, and in a commanding voice called on Wo Cut-sing to see that his trusty body-guard were in attendance to escort him to the council-chamber. The emissary promptly executed his orders, and the party, all mounted and well armed, sallied forth from the Mo Wang's palace. The female inmates remained in great suspense for the return of their lord and master. They had no apprehension of danger to his person as long as he remained within the city walls. But he was a man of so courageous a disposition that they were afraid he would make an attempt to break through the enemy's lines outside and perish in the fight. Already several sorties had been made from the gates, in which he had taken part, but they were driven back with great loss. On the last of these occasions it was the intention of his colleagues that when he was outside they would close the gate of the city and prevent his re-entering, so that they might have their own way in treating for a capitulation, while he was to be made a prisoner by the disciplined corps. This treacherous plan was frustrated by a skilful retreat with his men through the gate before the other Wangs had time themselves to get in. While the members of the household were discussing these matters, Wo Cut-sing suddenly rushed in amongst them with looks expressive of fear and alarm. "All is lost!" he cried, in a voice of terror that pierced the hearts of his timid hearers; "the Mo Wang has been assassinated!" "Ah, woe is me!" uttered his disconsolate wife, in tones of anguish. "I dreaded this. How did it happen, and who did the accursed deed?" All the chiefs were assembled in the council-hall with their robes of office on; five Wangs as grand councillors, and twenty-five Tien Chuangs as ordinary councillors, the Mo Wang being president. The question of surrender was brought before the council by the Kang Wang, who said that he and the Na Wang had been negotiating with the foreign and Chinese generals, who assured them that their lives would be spared if they abandoned the Taiping cause and gave in their allegiance to the emperor. He was of opinion that the terms should be accepted, as he had great faith in the power and clemency of the foreign general. Then up rose the Mo Wang, who denounced the proposal to capitulate on any terms as pusillanimous, and not in accordance with the brave veteran Taipings who had marched from the south to the north of China as conquerors. Then he made a long discourse, in which he praised the superiority and faithfulness of the Cantonese and Quang-see men, saying that the followers from the other provinces were neither brave nor trustworthy. insinuations caused the other Wangs to resent the affront in strong language, and an angry altercation took place, which grew hotter and hotter, until the chamber was in an uproar. Then the Kang Wang stood up, divested himself of his robe, and from underneath his vestment drew a sharp dagger, which he plunged into the heart of the Mo Wang, who fell instantly dead upon the ground. One of the Tien Chuangs then drew his scimitar, and with it separated the head from the body. The council then resolved that the garrison should surrender, and our lamented master's head was sent to General Ching as a proof that they were ready to capitulate." These "What shall we do?-what shall we do?" groaned the bereaved family. Say, faithful follower of my dead husband," uttered the mother, addressing Wo Cut-sing, "what would you advise us desolate females to do?" "I see no other way of safety for you than to take flight with what articles of value can be conveniently carried. I will accompany you, your family, and A-Lee to a place of safety, until an opportunity occurs to leave this part of the country and we can travel to Canton." While the emissary was making this reply there was a noise outside the female apartments which arrested his attention, so he turned to see what occasioned it. A Taiping soldier entered unceremoniously, and asked if a lady named A-Lee was in the palace. "I have a missive here to deliver personally to her. I am a messenger from the Na Wang, who received it from a foreign officer of the Ever-Victorious Army,' with whom we are now on friendly terms; and here it is," said he, handing in my note. A scream of surprise and delight came from the lips of Loo A-Lee when she read its brief contents. Without noticing the effect upon Cut-sing of this strange interruption, she addressed her lady friends in encouraging words, saying, "Do not fear for your safety here. Remain in the palace; there is a brave foreign officer outside the walls who will come and protect us when the city surrenders to his men. it not so?" she said, turning to the messenger. Is "Fair lady," he answered, "such will be the case when the terms are concluded, which we expect may be done to-morrow, or perhaps this very day." When the messenger departed the ladies congratulated themselves on the prospect of remaining with safety in their abode. These congratulations, however, were disagreeably interrupted by the sinister remarks of the emissary, who abruptly addressed A-Lee. 'Nay, fair lady," he said, with an assumed blandness of manner that did not accord with the |