MARITIME CITIES OF PALESTINE.
with stars, the south wind was strong and filled the sails, and by fits and starts I dozed till
dawn of day. Then I roused myself and watched the little group around me-the hooded
monks sleeping soundly, my brother at my feet leaning against a hamper, and Katrine
enveloped that I could not distinguish her head from her heels.
The favourable wind had ceased, and the sailors were busy taking in sail. By the time
the sun appeared above the low coast hills the wind had shifted to the west, and we were in
danger of being driven on to the rocks. It then suddenly veered to the north, and blew
violently that the captain was obliged to cast anchor, and we were tossed on a heavy sea near
to a desolate coast where there was no possibility of landing. By nine o'clock the sun was very
powerful. An awning made of the now useless sails was thrown over the hold. We found
our quarters far from comfortable, but we were determined to make the best of them, and
fortunately we were all good sailors. By noon the heat was intense and suffocating in the hold,
so I climbed on to the deck and sat on a coil of rope, clinging to the mast. The strong wind
and the sea spray revived me. We were still at anchor. The coast opposite to us, which was
every now and then concealed by the high waves, was a range of drifted sand-hills, traversed
by flocks of goats feeding on the scanty patches of pasture. Not a human habitation, not even
a human being was visible, and not a boat or ship was seen all day.
In the afternoon the wind ceased, but the little ship rocked lazily from the effect of the
sea-swell, which had not yet subsided. My brother read St. Paul's voyage to me, as it is
recorded in the twenty-seventh chapter of the Acts of the Apostles. It seemed to me more
interesting than ever. We were not far from Caesarea, the port from which St. Paul em
barked (see page 108).
At sunset " the south wind blew softly." The sails were soon set, and in better spirits we
sat down to our evening meal, and shared our chickens and preserved soup with the monks ot
Mount Carmel, who proved to be very pleasant fellow-travellers.
We passed a dreamy, restless night, " sailing slowly," and in the morning were nearly
opposite Tanturah. The wind had changed to the north-east, so my brother insisted on
landing. We tacked about, put out to sea, and then allowed the strong wand to drive us
towards the picturesque coast (see page 105). Little islands of rock and mounds of ancient
masonry stood out before it, beaten by the waves. With some manoeuvring the boat was
brought safely to the beach, where there were plenty of Tanturah men to meet us and carry us
through the surf to the smooth yellow sands.
I was delighted to find myself on firm land again, and I shall always remember St. Paul's
advice to the centurion, and vote against sailing in the Levant in an Arab boat during the
The custom-house officer, Abu Habib (an intelligent and very well-informed man, who
was afterwards our neighbour at Haifa), came to meet us. He guided us to his house, which
consisted of one large square room lined with clay, and roofed with tree-branches blackened
with smoke. One half of the ceiling was concealed by matting, and the other half was