FROM BAALBEK TO DAMASCUS. 253 
In an hour we came to the stream of Zeita, where we 
stopped to lunch. From this point on to the village of Bum* 
mar is a winding valley, highly fertile and picturesque, the 
road running along a ledge at the base of the mountain on 
the right, the river on the left, its banks covered with trees, 
and numerous springs gushing from the rocks and running 
over the road, making one of the most refreshing combinations 
of agreeable sights we had yet seen. At length we entered 
the village of Dum-mar, the most beautiful spot on the whole 
road from Baalbek to Damascus, not excepting our favorite 
Zebdene. We saw little of the houses, for they are nearly 
covered up with trees and running vines ; but the gardens, 
wild and uncultivated as they are, teemed with richness of 
vegetation; and the ruinous old walls by the roadside were 
overrun with luxuriant vines and wild flowers. As we passed 
out of the village near the bridge we saw a large gathering 
of the native Arabs, lounging and smoking their chiboucks 
under an immense wide-spreaking tree in front of a Khan, 
with groups of camels laden with merchandise from Damas¬ 
cus feeding in the shade, and at a short distance from the 
crowd an Arab story-teller, shouting, at the top of his voice, 
the famous history of Hassan, the Robber of Camels. The 
bridge crosses the River of Dum-mar, a considerable stream, 
watering a fertile tract of country above. Leaving the village 
we had a pretty hard ride up to the top of the mountain 
called Jebel-el-Nazir. It was here we had the first view of 
the magnificent plains of Haroun—a sight that can never be 
forgotten; one that is truly a joy forever. 
