280 



THE AMERICAN MUSEUM JOURNAL 



We made our way past the rows of 

 stately tombs, until the \alley Ijroad- 

 ened and swung to the west. Here was 

 the site of a city with an hundred thou- 

 sand inhabitants, a fact borne out by the 

 countless hewn masonry blocks, which 

 covered an area of a square mile to a 

 depth of many feet. One Iniilding re- 

 mains nearly intact, a temple of con- 

 siderable size, its great walls containing 

 secret passageways, in which, it is told, 

 the priests concealed themselves and 

 astounded the worshipers by voices 

 purporting to come from the gods. 



We explored many tombs and, late 

 in the afternoon, found a very convenient 

 suite, which we appropriated. It was 

 cut about seventy feet abo\'e the stream's 

 bed, and was approached by a stone 

 staircase. In front of the door of this 

 tomb was a level terrace, a few yards 

 square, on which we did our cooking, 

 and which commanded a view of a large 

 part of the basin. Somewhat below our 

 room, and connected with it on the 

 inside by a staii-way, was a second tomb, 

 which we apportioned to Teep. Below 

 that was a large grotto, in which the 

 horses, Bedouin boys and soldier dwelt 

 in a happy community. The singular 

 number is used with reference to our 

 army, as shortly after our arrival, we had 

 decided that it was needless and ex- 

 travagant to have more than one soldier, 

 and had sent the others back to El Maan. 



The floor of our apartment was 

 inches deep in dust, the remo^'al of 

 which occupied the greater part of the 

 remaining hours of daylight. Then the 

 Bedouins collected a quantity of grass 

 and willows, of which we made beds. 



The nights were very cold and clear, 

 disturbed only by the howling of jackals. 

 Soon after sunset the valley became dark 

 as the pit, but about nine o'clock, directly 

 across from our home, the moon ap- 

 peared over the mountain ramparts, 



giving a weird effect of being in the basin 

 itself, with the cliffs behind it. We 

 rambled about that dead city at night, 

 half afraid of what might emerge from 

 its gaping doors. In these wanderings 

 we went alone, the natives being un- 

 willing to leave the cheering influence of 

 the fire. 



Near our end of the valley was a side 

 gorge with vertical purple walls, at the 

 base of which began a staircase, cut from 

 the rock. For half a mile this staircase, 

 four yards wide, winds upward into the 

 labyrinths of this gol)lin country. In 

 some places it is cut in a shelf along the 

 edge of a yellow abyss; in others through 

 an intervening buttress thirty or forty 

 feet high, composed of sinuous veins of 

 red, purple, blue, and gold. Finally, 

 after working along the edge of a ghastly 

 chasm with overhanging walls, the way 

 arri^'es at a plateau, backed by a honey- 

 combed wall of gray which faces out into 

 the blue spaces of the western desert. 



In this clilT is a gigantic cutting, 

 comparable in size to the Abu Simbel in 

 Egypt, or the Kailas Temple in India. 

 This facade, standing for centuries in 

 this remote and terrible spot, is very 

 impressive. The architecture of the 

 Deir, as it is called, is similar to that of 

 the Khazneh, but not of so pure a style, 

 nor are its carvings so delicate. At the 

 same time, the- location and magnitutle 

 of the Deir render it more astonishing. 

 The facade is in the neighborhood of one 

 hundred and sixty feet in height, sur- 

 mounted by an urn, hewn in situ, like 

 the rest of the cutting. 



We climbed this by means of a series 

 of staggered holes cut in the cliff, like a 

 \-ertical ladder, from the ground to the 

 summit of the fa^-ade. The urn proved 

 to be of gigantic size; so huge, in fact, 

 that a horse and carriage could be driven 

 around its base. 



Like all the hewn tombs, temples, and 



