Beyond Nebbee Moussa, we came out upon the last heights overlooking the Dead Sea, though several miles of low hills remained to be passed.  The head of the sea was visible as far as the Ras-el-Feshka on the west; and the hot fountains of Callirhoe on the eastern shore.  Farther than this, all was vapor and darkness.  The water was a soft, deep purple hue, brightening into blue.  Our road led down what seemed a vast sloping causeway from the mountains, between two ravines, walled by cliffs several hundred feet in height.  It gradually flattened into a plain, covered with a white, saline incrustation, and grown with clumps of sour willow, tamarisk, and other shrubs, among which I looked in vain for the osher, or Dead Sea apple.  The plants appeared as if smitten with leprosy; but there were some flowers growing almost to the margin of the sea.  We reached the shore about 2 P.M.  The heat by this time was most severe, and the air so dense as to occasion pains in my ears.  The Dead Sea is 1,300 feet below the Mediterranean, and without doubt the lowest part of the earth’s surface.  I attribute the oppression I felt to this fact and to the sultriness of the day, rather than to any exhalation from the sea itself.  Francois remarked, however, that had the wind—­which by this time was veering round to the north-east—­blown from the south, we could scarcely have endured it.  The sea resembles a great cauldron, sunk between mountains from three to four thousand feet in height; and probably we did not experience more than a tithe of the summer heat.

I proposed a bath, for the sake of experiment, but Francois endeavored to dissuade us.  He had tried it, and nothing could be more disagreeable; we risked getting a fever, and, besides, there were four hours of dangerous travel yet before us.  But by this time we were half undressed, and soon were floating on the clear bituminous waves.  The beach was fine gravel and shelved gradually down.  I kept my turban on my head, and was careful to avoid touching the water with my face.  The sea was moderately warm and gratefully soft and soothing to the skin.  It was impossible to sink; and even while swimming, the body rose half out of the water.  I should think it possible to dive for a short distance, but prefer that some one else would try the experiment.  With a log of wood for a pillow, one might sleep as on one of the patent mattresses.  The taste of the water is salty and pungent, and stings the tongue like saltpetre.  We were obliged to dress in all haste, without even wiping off the detestable liquid; yet I experienced very little of that discomfort which most travellers have remarked.  Where the skin had been previously bruised, there was a slight smarting sensation, and my body felt clammy and glutinous, but the bath was rather refreshing than otherwise.