screen hung with red cloth, while over the tomb itself was spread a sort of green silk pall embroidered with gold stars. Some of the Druse sheikhs who accompanied me, reverently pressed their lips to this. They then pointed out a square block of limestone, in the centre of which was a piece of alabaster containing the imprint of a human foot of natural size. The toes were not defined, but the impression was so distinct, that it was easy to understand why it should have seized hold of the popular imagination. It was of course believed to be the footprint of the prophet, and the Druses said that it exuded a perpetual moisture, which, however, I failed to perceive. In curious contrast to these sacred objects was the scene which was taking place in the venerated chamber that contained them. When I visited it, it was being used as the ladies' dining-room, and was crowded with a laughing, chattering, feeding feminine multitude, with their glorious eyes, white regular teeth, bewitching smiles, and delicate fingers plunged up to the knuckles into huge piles of greasy rice. On the terraces and in the court below men were dancing; while the sheikhs and ukkul, or initiated into the holy mysteries, who despise all such frivolities which are permitted to the youth of both sexes, were seated in a solemn circle apart, discussing either religion or the political questions affecting the interests of their nation, – most probably the latter, for there can be no doubt that they utilise these pious gatherings for secular purposes – the exclusive character of their religion, and the secrecy which surrounds it, enabling them to organise in a special manner, while the theocratic element which enters into their political constitution gives them a power for combined action which the Christian sects, with their jealousies, bigotry, and internal dissensions, do not enjoy.
Soon after sunset the uproar died away, the elders wished me good-night, and silently trooped up-stairs to the great hall, whence issued the younger part of the female community, and I retired to the door of my tent, to sit in the bright moonlight and contemplate the strange surroundings of my night-quarters.
Soon there broke upon the stillness of the night the measured cadence of a sacred chant. Now it swelled, as numerous voices, male and female, took up the chorus; now it died away to a single voice. Not often before, probably, had a stranger been able to listen so closely to the tones and rhythmical sounds which characterise the mysterious and occult worship of the Druses. It differs from all other religions in this, that they address no prayers or invocations to the Deity – and from most oriental religions, that the women take part in some of their ceremonies. Not in all, however, for upon the following night the women were excluded. Throughout the greater part of two consecutive nights, to my certain knowledge, did these services last; though, as I fell asleep, on each occasion, towards morning, I cannot precisely say at what hour they were concluded.
It will be seen from this narrative of some of my experiences of life in a Druse village in the most romantic and historical mountain in Palestine, that it is one's own fault if it is dull or monotonous, and that, for those who are not afraid of making interests for themselves, while they become identified with those by which they are surrounded, it is not without its responsibilities and its charm.
