“In the afternoon of March 23d, they commenced the slow and toilsome ascent along the narrow defile, between blackened, shattered, cliffs of granite, some eight hundred feet high, and not more than two hundred and fifty yards apart, which seemed ready at any moment to fall upon their heads. The whole pass was filled with large stones and rocks, the debris of those cliffs. As they advanced the sand was occasionally moist, and on digging into it with the hand, the whole was soon filled with fine sweet water.

At half past three o’clock they reached the top of the defile, from which the Convent was two hours distant. The interior and loftier peaks of the great circle of Sinai soon began to open upon them,—black, rugged, and desolate summits; and as they advanced, the dark and frowning front of Sinai itself (The Horeb of the Monks) began to appear. They were still gradually ascending, and the valley was gradually opening; but as yet all was a naked desert. Afterwards, a few shrubs were sprinkled round, and a small encampment of black tents was seen on their right, with camels and goats browsing. The scenery was uncommonly wild and desolate, strikingly resembling the mountains around the Merde Glace, in Switzerland.

As they advanced, the valley still opened wider and wider, with a gentle ascent, and became full of shrubs and tufts of herbs, shut in on each side by lofty granite ridges, with rugged shattered peaks a thousand feet high, while the face of Horeb rose directly before them, when they involuntarily exclaimed, ‘Here is room enough for a large encampment.’ Reaching the top of the ascent, a fine broad plain lay before them, sloping down gently towards the south-southeast, enclosed by rugged and venerable mountains of dark granite, stern, naked, splintered peaks and ridges of indescribable grandeur; and terminated at the distance of more than a mile, by the bold and awful front of Horeb, rising perpendicularly in frowning majesty, from twelve to fifteen hundred feet in height. It was a scene of solemn grandeur, wholly unexpected, and of overwhelming interest. On the left of Horeb, a deep and narrow valley runs up South-Southeast, between lofty walls of rocks, as if in continuation of the southeast corner of the plain. In this valley, at the distance of near a mile from the plain, stands the convent. The deep verdure of its fruit trees and cypresses is seen as the traveller approaches, an oasis of beauty amid scenes of the sternest desolation. The whole plain is called Wady er-Rahah; and the valley of the convent is known to the Arabs as Wady Shu’ eib, that is, the ‘Vale of Jethro.’

Still advancing, the front of Horeb rose like a wall before the travellers. One can approach quite to the foot and touch the mount. As they crossed the plain, their feelings were deeply affected, finding here, so unexpectedly, a spot perfectly adapted to the Scriptural account of the giving of the Law. No one has hitherto described this plain, nor even mentioned it, except in a slight and general manner; probably because most travellers have reached the convent by a different route, without passing over it. Another reason may be the fact, that neither the highest point of Sinai, (now called Jebet Musa,) nor the loftiest summit of St. Catharine, is visible from any part of it. The breadth of the plain, at a particular point, was [p. 917]