THE CEDARS OF LEBANON 
201 
winter, this stream is no doubt swollen to something like a 
river by the mountain torrents, although in speaking of rivers 
here, as indeed throughout Europe and the East, it is not to 
be supposed that what we call rivers m America are meant 
Every little creek in the Old World is dignified by the name 
of river, and every duck-pond is called a lake. 
It would be necessary to go beyond the limits of a mere 
journal of incidents to give an account of the country for the 
next three days. We stopped at Djbel, Batroum, and Tripoli, 
long enough to see each town pretty thoroughly, and make 
some sketches, and on the third day commenced our ascent 
of Mount Lebanon 
CASTLE OF DJBEL 
At Aheden, claimed by some authorities as the Garden of 
Eden, we were obliged to take a guide, the path being alto¬ 
gether obliterated in some of the table-grounds by recent floods 
of rain. As we approached the cedars we went down into 
a ravine, and soon after passed along the ledge of a profound 
gorge, extending to the depth of several hundred feet. A vil 
