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Product Description The Jebel es Zubleh is a mountain fifty miles and more in length, and so narrow that its tracery on the map gives it a likeness to a caterpillar crawling from the south to the north. Standing on its red-and-white cliffs, and looking off under the path of the rising sun, one sees only the Desert of Arabia, where the east winds, so hateful to vinegrowers of Jericho, have kept their playgrounds since the beginning. Its feet are well covered by sands tossed from the Euphrates, there to lie, for the mountain is a wall to the pasture-lands of Moab and Ammon on the west-lands which else had been of the desert a part. The Arab has impressed his language upon everything south and east of Judea, so, in his tongue, the old Jebel is the parent of numberless wadies which, intersecting the Roman road-now a dim suggestion of what once it was, a dusty path for Syrian pilgrims to and from Mecca-run their furrows, deepening as they go, to pass the torrents of the rainy season into the Jordan, or their last receptacle, the Dead Sea. Out of one of these wadies-or, more particularly, out of that one which rises at the extreme end of the Jebel, and, extending east of north, becomes at length the bed of the Jabbok River-a traveller passed, going to the table-lands of the desert. To this person the attention of the reader is first besought. |
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Product Details (Paperback) : 224 Pages Release Date: January 01, 2008 Label: Barbour Publishing Distributed By: Barbour Publishing Publisher: Barbour Publishing Language: Category: CHRISTIAN FICTION Product Grade Level: 04 - 07 ISBN: 1597899704 EAN / ISBN-13: 9781597899703 Product Code: 328914 |
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Lew Wallace He'd rather be known as a hero of combat, but Lew Wallace is best known for his novel Ben Hur, one of the most popular novels of the 19th century. |
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Editorial Review The Jebel es Zubleh is a mountain fifty miles and more in length, and so narrow that its tracery on the map gives it a likeness to a caterpillar crawling from the south to the north. Standing on its red-and-white cliffs, and looking off under the path of the rising sun, one sees only the Desert of Arabia, where the east winds, so hateful to vinegrowers of Jericho, have kept their playgrounds since the beginning. Its feet are well covered by sands tossed from the Euphrates, there to lie, for the mountain is a wall to the pasture-lands of Moab and Ammon on the west-lands which else had been of the desert a part. The Arab has impressed his language upon everything south and east of Judea, so, in his tongue, the old Jebel is the parent of numberless wadies which, intersecting the Roman road-now a dim suggestion of what once it was, a dusty path for Syrian pilgrims to and from Mecca-run their furrows, deepening as they go, to pass the torrents of the rainy season into the Jordan, or their last receptacle, the Dead Sea. Out of one of these wadies-or, more particularly, out of that one which rises at the extreme end of the Jebel, and, extending east of north, becomes at length the bed of the Jabbok River-a traveller passed, going to the table-lands of the desert. To this person the attention of the reader is first besought. |
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