"Dark has fallen, and the stars shine bright in a velvet sky. At
length we approach the little Village of Bethany,[16] 'the town of
Mary and Martha'; near which we dismount and breathe our horses for
a space; finding a little shop close at hand, we buy some fruit and
'take a pull' at the water-bottle.

"Leaving our last link with civilization we begin our long weary
descent to the Jordan Valley. Before we have covered a mile, it is
obvious that the road is falling steeply. 'Take a good breath now
of the fresh air,' say those who have already experienced the
Jordan Valley, 'for it's the last you'll get for many a day!'

"The road now enters a valley, or more rightly passes between two
lines of rocky hills, and for a time, as it is pitch dark, we
stumble along to keep our places in the column. But soon, the
eastern crest is silhouetted by the rising moon, and as the silver
light pours down the slope we see the road before us, zig-zagging
its way 'into the depths,' and there, a mile in front, the head of
the Brigade worming its way, like a great black snake.

"So steep is it now, and so sharp the 'hairpin' turns, that
although one hears the voices and sees the heads of troops on the
winding road forty yards below, yet these are possibly half a mile
ahead in the column! 'Down' and 'down' we go, _hotter and hotter it
grows_, dustier and dustier the atmosphere!

"Great difficulty is now experienced in keeping touch with the
regiment in front, for in such cases it is always the Machine-Gun
Squadron that is in rear of the column and 'enjoys' the dust. In
action or danger--quite another thing; up, then, just behind the
leading regiment....

"Arrived at Talat-ed-Dumm, too tired now to eat or drink (having
fed our animals) we lie, or rather, fall down on a blanket. In two
minutes we are dreaming that we are back in the 'old country,'
sitting in that cool breeze under the great sycamore tree; drinking
that fine old 'home-brewed,' and talking to the sweetest of all
women. Far away in the distance is the rumbling of a coach; round
the corner it comes into sight, the horses' hoofs thudding on the
hard old Roman road! The guard raises his long coaching horn to his
lips and blows a stirring call. Someone shakes us from behind! Lo!
we open our eyes and--