Ben Hur: A Tale of the Christ, a novel by: Lew Wallace

chapter 1-5 The Jebel es Zubleh is a mountain fifty miles and much in length, and so narrow that its tracery on the map gives it a similitude to a caterpillar crawling from the south to the north. Standing on its red-and-white cliffs, and looking aside under the mode of the rising sun, wiz sees only the Desert of Arabia, where the eastern hemisphere winds, so hateful to vinegrowers of Jericho, beget kept their playgrounds since the beginning. Its feet are well c over by littoral zone 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 surrender a part. The Arab has impressed his language upon everything south and east of Judea, so, in his tongue, the old Jebel is the mention of numberless wadies which, intersecting the Roman road--now a dim suggestion of what once it was, a insensate path for Syrian pilgrims to and from Mecca--run their furrows, deepening as they go, to pa ss the torrents of the rainy quieten 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 traveler passed, going to the table-lands of the desert. To this somebody the attention of the reader is first besought. Judged by his appearance, he was sort of forty-five years old. His beard, once of the deepest black, flowing broadly over his breast, was streaked with white. His face was brown as a parched coffee-berry, and so hidden by a red kufiyeh (as the kerchief of ! the boost is at this day called by the children of... If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com

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