Lynch says: “Unstirred by the wind, the lake lay smooth and unruffled. The great evaporation enveloped it in a thin, transparent vapor, its purple tinge contrasting strangely with the extraordinary color of the sea beneath, and, where they blended in the distance, giving it the appearance of smoke from burning sulphur. It seemed a vast caldron of metal, fused but motionless.”
Count de Bertou, who visited the Dead Sea in April, 1835, thus writes: “In attempting to describe the scenes which we had yesterday beheld, I feel the utter inadequacy of words to express my feelings. I had wandered through the Alps, the Pyrenees, and many other mountains. I had seen countries blasted by the curse of the Almighty, the plains of Moab and the land of Ammon, but had hitherto seen nothing to compare with the mountains of Zoarah and Esdrom. Here is desolation on the grandest scale, and beyond what the imagination of man could conceive; it must be seen — to describe it is impossible. In this striking and solemn waste, where nature is alike destitute of vegetation and inhabitants, man appears but an atom; all around is enveloped in the silence of death — not a bird, not even an insect is seen! The regular step of our camels returned a dull sound as if the ground were hollowed beneath their feet; the monotonous chant of the camel driver accompanied at times the step of this inhabitant of the desert, but was suddenly stopped, as if he feared to awaken nature. Three Bedouins went before us to examine the road, for we have to fear meeting with Arabs, who might be enemies to our tribe. The sun concealed itself by thick clouds, and seemed unwilling to shine upon the land cursed by the Almighty. We saw the traces of several wolves. Everything seemed to combine to make the landscape a scene awfully sublime.”