etching across, and we had to stoop beneath them. On
the sides of the hills were many fires of the charcoal burners.

As evening came on, we could see our lofty green prison walls tipped with
the setting sun.

At length the glen seemed to be terminated by a fine round hill, crowned
with a village standing across the passage. The appearance improved as
we drew nearer; inhabitants were not few; large flocks and herds were
winding by several ways towards it. The people named it _Khirbet
Sellim_, (Sellim in ruin) but how could all this cheerful scene belong to
a ruin?

The sun set and we had another hour of the lovely glen to thread by
starlight. At last we emerged by a gently inclined plain, which
gradually became rougher, and we mounted the steep hill on which
_Tibneen_ is built. There we determined to halt for the night, as our
cattle were unable to hold on to _Bint el Jebail_.

We pitched on the threshing floor between the village and the castle.

This castle is the citadel of all the Belad Besharah, from the Leontes to
Safed, and Ahhmad Bek, its owner, is called by his people "the Shaikh of
Shaikhs;" by the Turkish government he is recognised as Kaimakam of the
province.

The people were of ill behaviour, and talked about quarantine, but the
population of the district are at all times a churlish race, being of the
Sheah or 'Ali sect of Moslems; they curse and loathe our Mohammedans, and
oppress the sparse families of Christians within their reach. They are
called the Mutawaleh.

At first they refused to let us have anything, till the governor, on
ascertaining who we were, sent us down some lemonade; still we got but
few articles of food, and our horses were left without water.

My kawwas Salim was then taken ill from the effect of having slept the
preceding night with his head uncovered, and with reluctance our own
people put up the small tent that travelled with us, on purpose for them;
they always prefer sleeping in open air, only covering the head well with
the cloak.

This was Saturday night, and we had not an agreeable prospect for a
Sabbath rest on the morrow.

The wind was strong all night on that lofty situation, but there was no
dew.

In the morning, the people would not supply us with milk, even for the
horses, and so it was impossible to stay there; we marched on towards
Bint el Jebail, about three hours' distant, a considerable place, which
often contests with Tibneen for supremacy in th