FKOM BAALBEK TO DAMASCUS. 247 
the river of Surgoya ; and is a pretty strong stream for its size, 
driving several mills. At one of these mills we- stopped to 
lunch. The hoppers were going at a great rate, and I peep¬ 
ed in to see how the grinding was done. The miller wore a 
turban, and had so much dust in his beard that he looked 
like an old Pasha. “ Marhabba ,” said he, which means how 
d’ye do, or good morning, or something of the kind; “ Mar¬ 
habba” said I, and I crept in through the low doorway. 
Now, I had seen some few mills in my time, but never such 
a mill as this. The whole machinery consisted of a round 
rough stone, with a hole through it, in which was wedged 
a thick shaft of wood. At the bottom of the shaft were some 
paddles, against which the water dashed at one side, turning 
the shaft, and with the shaft the grindstone. A bag of wheat 
was hung over the hopper, to which was fastened a piece of 
stick that ran over the stone, and by its vibration jerked out 
the wheat. The miller, seeing my wonder, thought it arose 
from inability on my part to understand the complexity of all 
this machinery; and with great good-nature he explained the 
whole process in Arabic, pointing with much satisfaction at 
each part, and showing me by a whirling motion of the arm 
that it was the going round of the grindstone that ground the 
wheat. This idea of the wonderful manner in which the wheat 
was reduced to meal had such a hold upon his imagination 
that he jumped on the grindstone to stop it, in order that I 
might see for myself. But the stone wouldn’t stop imme¬ 
diately, and it was only after being tilted on his back once or 
twice that the worthy miller succeeded in getting himself 
braced against a post so as to stop the mill. Then he took 
up a handful of the meal, and showed me that it was really 
ground by that same machinery, which he made still clearer 
to my mind by a copious dissertation in Arabic on grist-mills 
as a general thing. “ Tahib /” said he, signifying “good.” 
“ Tahib” said I, and crept out through the same hole that I 
entered, very much pleased with my visit. 
On leaving the mill, we passed through a long winding 
valley, hemmed in on the right and left by low monotonous 
hills, dotted over with oak bushes, and uninhabited for many 
