his place is literally, "the shepherd's village."

We passed an ancient sepulchre cut in the rock by our wayside, with small
niches in it to the right and left; the material was coarse, and so was
the workmanship, compared to ours about Jerusalem.

The moon rose--a jackal crossed a field within a few yards of us. We
passed through a large village called _Fahh'mah_, _i.e._, charcoal, with
fragments of old buildings and one palm-tree. Forwards over wild green
hills, along precipices that required extreme caution. The villages
around were discernible by their lights in the houses. At length 'Arabeh
appeared, with numerous and large lights, and we could hear the ring of
blacksmiths' hammers and anvils--we seemed almost to be approaching a
manufacturing town in "the black country of England." {217}

Arrived on a smooth meadow at the foot of the long hill on which the
place is built, I fired pistols as a signal to our people should they be
there to hear it, and one was fired in answer. To that spot we went, and
found the tents and our people, but neither tents set up nor preparations
for supper. Village people stood around, but refused to give or sell us
anything, and using defiant language to all the consuls and pashas in the
world.

Till that moment I had not been aware that this was the citadel of the
'Abdu'l Hadi's factions, and a semi-fortification. [Since that time, I
have had opportunities of seeing much more of the people and the place.]

Sending a kawwas to the castle, with my compliments to the Bek, I
requested guards for the night, and loading my pistols afresh, stood with
them in my hand, as did my second kawwas with his gun, and we commenced
erecting the tents.

Down came the kawwas in haste to announce that the Bek was coming himself
to us, attended by his sons and a large train.

First came his nephew from his part, to announce the advent; then a
deputation of twenty; and then himself, robed in scarlet and sable fur,
on a splendid black horse of high breed. I invited him to sit with me on
my bed within the tent, widely open. The twenty squatted in a circle
around us, and others stood behind them; and a present was laid before me
of a fine water-melon and a dozen of pomegranates.

Never was a friendship got up on shorter notice. We talked politics and
history, which I would rather have adjourned to another time, being very
tired and very hungry.

He assured me that when my pistols were heard a