DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.11448#0321
CHAP. II.]
NAHR EL KELB.
15
the "Nahr el Kelb," or Dog River ; a stream that issues from a
picturesque ravine about nine miles from Beyrout, on the road to
Tripoli. The sea ran high, and the wind was as much as our
little craft could stagger under as we ran along in the shadow of
the Lebanon. On rounding a bold headland, a new scene dis-
closed itself: a deep valley opened in the very heart of the moun-
tains, and from its green and pleasant gloom, the bright little river
we were in search of gleamed suddenly into light; the steep hills
that formed its banks were covered with dark shrubs below, and
grey crags above, and crowned with a Maronite convent. A
beautiful ruined aqueduct, tapestried with ivy and flowering par-
asites, ran along the base of the mountain; and a picturesque
old bridge, shaped like a chevron, terminated the view ; on the
shore stood a khan, that rather resembled a bower, so thickly was
it covered with vines and shaded by trees. The entrance to this
fairy spot was guarded from the angry sea by masses of black
rocks, which have given name to the Dog River, from their re-
semblance to that animal. The heavy surf beat out its purple
masses into broad sheets of foam upon the beach, and there
appeared to be no possibility of entering that secluded glen. For
a few moments we lay-to, waiting for a " seventh wave •" then
out flew the oars, and, bowered in spray, upheaved upon a moun-
tain-billow, we bounded over the bar—floating, by a sudden and
strange transition, into the calm river out of the stormy sea.
We found here some officers of the Vernon, who had ridden
round to meet us; their carpet was spread under the shade of
spreading sycamores, and we were soon reposing upon it in
placid enjoyment of our chibouques, while the Syrian servants
bustled about preparations for dinner. The horses were tethered
in the shade, and our little boat lay moored by the silvery beach,
over which a mountain cascade skipped, and laughed in concert
with ourselves.
We dined merrily together on kid from the mountain, and om-
elettes made with herbs that grew wild about us; the wine was
cooled in the cascade, and the coffee mingled its pleasant perfume
with that of the aromatic shrubs on which it was boiling. Pipes,
coffee, mountain-breezes, wild flowers' scents, superb scenery,
sparkling torrents, neighing horses, the sea's deep roar, and a joy-
NAHR EL KELB.
15
the "Nahr el Kelb," or Dog River ; a stream that issues from a
picturesque ravine about nine miles from Beyrout, on the road to
Tripoli. The sea ran high, and the wind was as much as our
little craft could stagger under as we ran along in the shadow of
the Lebanon. On rounding a bold headland, a new scene dis-
closed itself: a deep valley opened in the very heart of the moun-
tains, and from its green and pleasant gloom, the bright little river
we were in search of gleamed suddenly into light; the steep hills
that formed its banks were covered with dark shrubs below, and
grey crags above, and crowned with a Maronite convent. A
beautiful ruined aqueduct, tapestried with ivy and flowering par-
asites, ran along the base of the mountain; and a picturesque
old bridge, shaped like a chevron, terminated the view ; on the
shore stood a khan, that rather resembled a bower, so thickly was
it covered with vines and shaded by trees. The entrance to this
fairy spot was guarded from the angry sea by masses of black
rocks, which have given name to the Dog River, from their re-
semblance to that animal. The heavy surf beat out its purple
masses into broad sheets of foam upon the beach, and there
appeared to be no possibility of entering that secluded glen. For
a few moments we lay-to, waiting for a " seventh wave •" then
out flew the oars, and, bowered in spray, upheaved upon a moun-
tain-billow, we bounded over the bar—floating, by a sudden and
strange transition, into the calm river out of the stormy sea.
We found here some officers of the Vernon, who had ridden
round to meet us; their carpet was spread under the shade of
spreading sycamores, and we were soon reposing upon it in
placid enjoyment of our chibouques, while the Syrian servants
bustled about preparations for dinner. The horses were tethered
in the shade, and our little boat lay moored by the silvery beach,
over which a mountain cascade skipped, and laughed in concert
with ourselves.
We dined merrily together on kid from the mountain, and om-
elettes made with herbs that grew wild about us; the wine was
cooled in the cascade, and the coffee mingled its pleasant perfume
with that of the aromatic shrubs on which it was boiling. Pipes,
coffee, mountain-breezes, wild flowers' scents, superb scenery,
sparkling torrents, neighing horses, the sea's deep roar, and a joy-