Ben-Hur [antikvár]

Book FirstI. INTO THE DESERTThe Jebel es Zubleh is a mountain fifty mües and more in length, and so narrow that its tracery on the map gives it a likeness to a caterpillar crawling from the south to the north. Standing on its red-and-white cliffs, and looking off under the path of the rising sun, one sees only the Desert of Arabia, where the east winds, so hateful to the vine-growers of Jericho, have kept their playgrounds since the beginning. Its feet are well covered by sands tossed from the Euphrates, there to He; for the mountain is a wall to the pasture lands of Moab and Ammon on the westlands which else had been of the desert a part.The Arab has impressed his language upon everything south and east of Judea; so, in his tongue, the old Jebel is the parent of numberless wadies which, intersecting the Roman roadnow a dim suggestion of what once it was, a dusty path for Syrian pilgrims to and from Meccarun their fiurows, deepening as they go, to pass the torrents of the rainy season into the Jordan, or their last receptacle, the Dead Sea. Out of one of these wadiesor, more particularly, out of that one which rises at the extreme end of the Jebel, and, extending east of north, becomes at length the bed of the Jabbok Rivera traveler passed, going to the table lands of the desert. To this person the attention of the reader is first besought.Judged by his appearance, he was quite forty-five years old. His beard, once of the deepest black, flowing broadly over his breast, was streaked with white. His face was brown