1258 



THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



of sand. Near by was a long row of 

 black Bedouin tents, the flocks of goats 

 browsing among the rocks, while to the 

 right the long plain of el Raha stretched 

 out to the Nakb el Howi Pass. 



Above this crevice rose a smooth, 

 rounding mass of rock 40 feet or more 

 in height, on the crest of which the 

 monks have planted a huge wooden 

 cross. This is the summit of Safsafah 

 (see picture, page 1259). Baedeker says 

 the ascent requires a steady head. Meis- 

 termann says : "Le dernier pic, droit et 

 glissant, n'est plus accessible qu'aux 

 touristes robustes, qui ne sont pas sujet 

 au vertige, et qui sont determines a y 

 grimper en s'aidant des pieds et des 

 mains." 



I did not find it so. The climb is diffi- 

 cult, perhaps, but in no place should I 

 call it dangerous, nor does it invite diz- 

 ziness. The view is limited except to 

 the north ; ^/nere range after range runs 

 back toward the horizon, with great Ger- 

 bel Serbal in the distance. Except at the 

 north, however, the rim of the Sinaitic 

 range restricts the view. 



We came back to the cypress tree for 

 lunch, watched the arrival of the camels 

 and the pitching of our tents, and then 

 we began the final climb of the Jebel 

 Musa summit of Mount Sinai. On the 

 edge of the plain we passed a little 

 chapel dedicated to Elijah, for the Greek 

 Church has located here Elijah's vision 

 of God, when, fleeing from the wrath of 

 Jezebel, he came to Horeb, "the Moun- 

 tain of God." 



Here, they say, he heard the great and 

 mighty wind, which rent the mountains 

 and brake in pieces the rocks ; here he 

 witnessed the earthquake and the fire, 

 and heard after the fire the still, small 

 voice saying, "What doest thou here, 

 Elijah?" 



the; top of SINAI 



Beyond the chapel we entered another 

 crack in the mountain side, where the 

 pilgrim steps resume their zigzag way 

 between high and narrow walls ; but the 

 ascent is steeper and rougher than be- 

 fore. After a forty-minute climb we 

 reached the summit. Here, on a narrow 

 platform, we found a mosque and a 



Christian chapel almost side by side,, 

 symbols of the two great faiths which 

 today command the worship of so many 

 millions of men and whose antagonisms 

 once convulsed the Mediterranean (see 

 page 1253). 



Time was when the servants of the 

 mosque swept the Great Sea from end. 

 to end, ravaging the shores of Spain and 

 the littoral of France. A pope of Rome 

 wrote pitifully for help against the raids 

 which swept up to the very gates of the 

 Holy City. The crumbling towers that 

 you still see along the shores of Spain,. 

 Sardinia, Sicily, and Italy were once 

 watch-towers, whose sentinels scanned, 

 the horizon for the slanting sails of 

 Saracen pirates. And time was when the 

 servants of the chapel flung their armies 

 upon the coasts of Palestine, carried hy 

 assault the walls of Jerusalem, andt 

 planted their castles from Belfort on the 

 north to Petra in the south, almost 

 within sight of Sinai. Yet here on this 

 mountain, sacred to Christian and Mo- 

 hammedan alike, in silent friendliness, 

 chapel and mosque lie side by side, as if 

 ignorant or forgetful of the antagonisms^ 

 of their servants in this world. 



Our guide showed us imbedded in the 

 rock the imprint of the hands of Moses> 

 and the cave where he had hidden when 

 "the glory of the Lord passed by." Af- 

 ter he was satisfied that we had seen the 

 things of real interest on Mount Sinai, 

 we turned to the things that were real to- 

 ns. George, our Syrian waiter, seated. 

 himself upon a rock and disturbed the 

 silence with the wailings of his flageo- 

 let, while we gave ourselves up to the- 

 view. 



From our feet the gorges and chasms- 

 fell away to the valley below, through 

 which, like a thin white thread, the road 

 ran on to Akabah, Moab, and to distant 

 Jerusalem. Around us stood the ring of 

 red granite mountains — indented, worn,, 

 and canned — huge masses of fantastic- 

 cliffs. Over this ring range behind range 

 of mountains ran away as far as the eye- 

 could see, each range as jagged and fan- 

 tastic in outline as Sinai itself. In and 

 among the ranges lay valleys of sand, 

 shimmering like still waters, with a white 

 and silvery gleam. The waters of the 



