This was the first plague-stricken person I had seen; and as we were compelled to pass close by her, I had an opportunity of observing the unfortunate creature closely.  She was bound on an ass, appeared resigned to her fate, and turned her sunken eyes upon us with an aspect of indifference.  I could see no trace of the terrible disease, except a yellow appearance of the face.  The soldier who accompanied her seemed as cool and indifferent as though he were walking beside a person in perfect health.

As the plague prevailed to a considerable extent throughout the valleys of the Lebanon, we were frequently obliged to go some distance out of our way to avoid the villages afflicted with the scourge; we usually encamped for the night in the open fields, far from any habitation.

On the whole long distance from Balbeck to the cedars of Lebanon we found not a human habitation, excepting a little shepherd’s hut near the mountains.  Not more than a mile and a half from the heights we came upon small fields of snow.  Several of our attendants dismounted and began a snow-balling match,—­a wintry scene which reminded me of my fatherland.  Although we were travelling on snow, the temperature was so mild that not one of our party put on a cloak.  We could not imagine how it was possible for snow to exist in such a high temperature.  The thermometer stood at 9 degrees Reaumur.

A fatiguing and dangerous ride of five hours at length brought us from the foot to the highest point of Mount Lebanon.  Here, for the first time, we can see the magnitude and the peculiar construction of the range.

Steep walls of rock, with isolated villages scattered here and there like beehives, and built on natural rocky terraces, rise on all sides; deep valleys lie between, contrasting beautifully in their verdant freshness with the bare rocky barriers.  Farther on lie stretched elevated plateaux, with cows and goats feeding at intervals; and in the remote distance glitters a mighty stripe of bluish-green, encircling the landscape like a broad girdle—­this is the Mediterranean.  On the flat extended coast several places can be distinguished, among which the most remarkable is Tripoli.  On the right the “Grove of Cedars” lay at our feet.

For a long time we stood on this spot, and turned and turned again, for fear of losing any part of this gigantic panorama.  On one side the mountain-range, with its valleys, rocks, and gorges; on the other the immense plain of Caelosyria, on the verge of which the ruins of the Sun-temple were visible, glittering in the noontide rays.  Then we climbed downwards and upwards, then downwards once more, through ravines and over rocks, along a frightful path, to a little grove of the far-famed cedars of Lebanon.  In this direction the peculiar pointed formation which constitutes the principal charm of these mountains once more predominates.

The celebrated Grove of Cedars is distant about two miles and a half from the summit of Lebanon; it consists of between five and six hundred trees:  about twenty of these are very aged, and five peculiarly large and fine specimens are said to have existed in the days of Solomon.  One tree is more than twenty-five feet in circumference; at about five feet from the ground it divides into four portions, and forms as many good-sized trunks.