of what they saw, with perhaps a little of American
wit, which consists in exaggerating "the leading feature."

I think, however, that to most English travellers, who have no hobbies
to ride, the barren appearance of Syria and Palestine is a
disenchantment. Accustomed to their own moist climate and green fields,
they are not prepared for the dry and parched, and abandoned appearance
of the greater part of the country. With us an abundance of water spoils
the crops; in Syria and Palestine the case is reversed, for unless water
can be poured over the land the crops are stunted and uncertain. For six
or seven months in the year scarcely any rain falls, and scarcely a
cloud darkens the sky. In October the early rain commences, with much
thunder and lightning; and in April the latter rain becomes light and
uncertain, and generally ceases altogether. Then the sky becomes
intensely blue, and the sun comes out in all his glory, or rather in all
her glory, for with the Arabs the sun is feminine. Suddenly grass and
vegetation wither up and become dry for the oven. The level country,
except where there are rivers, becomes parched. The stones stick up out
of the red soil like the white bones of a skeleton. Limestone, flint,
and basalt, and thorny shrubs, cover the face of the wilderness country.
Here and there you may see a dwarf oak, or an olive tree, or a wild fig
tree, and among the mountains you may notice little patches scratched
and cultivated by the _fellahin_; but, unless on the great plains of
Bashan and Esdraelon and Hamath, and on the uplands of Gilead, or where
there is water for irrigation, you may ride for hours along the zigzag
paths, over mountain and high-land, and before and behind extend the
limestone and flinty rocks, white and blinding, and broken into
fragments or burnt into powder. It thus happens that few tourists who
pass along the beaten tracks of Syria and Palestine have any just
conception of the vast agricultural resources of the land.

The most striking features in the Syrian landscape are two parallel
mountain ranges, which appear on the map like two centipedes, running
north and south. These are the Lebanon and Anti-Lebanon ranges. Lebanon
proper lies along the shore of the Mediterranean. The narrow strip of
land between the mountain and the sea was the home of the Ph[oe]nicians,
who steered their white-winged ships to every land, and dipped their
oars in every sea, before the Britons were heard of.