of bows and arrows. It would take a
determined army today to force itself through the wadys and
winding water-courses that guard that old citadel of Romans
and crusaders.

We approached from the Northwest corner, where a tower stands
that they call Burj-ez-Zahir. There were lions carved on it. It
looked as if the battlements had been magnificent at one time;
but whatever the Turks become possessed of always falls into
decay, and the Arabs seem no better.

Beside the Burj-ez-Zahir is a tunnel, faced by an unquestionable
Roman arch. Outside it there were more than a dozen armed men
lounging, and a lot of others looked down at us through the
ruined loop-holes of the wall above. Their leader challenged
our numbers at once, and refused admission. Judging by Anazeh's
magnificently insolent reply it looked at first as if he
intended fighting his way in. But that turned out to be
only his diplomatic manner--establishing himself, as it were,
on an eminence from which he could make concessions without
losing dignity.

The arrangement finally agreed to was Anazeh's suggestion, but
showed diplomatic genius on both sides. The old man divided up
his party into sets of three, and asserted that every set of
three was independent. There were twenty-two of us all told,
including Ahmed, but he described Ahmed as a prisoner, and
offered to have him shot if that would simplify matters.

There was a great deal of windy discussion about Ahmed's fate,
during which his face grew the color of raw liver and he joined
in several times tearfully. Once he was actually seized and
half-a-dozen of the castle guards aimed at him; but they
compromised finally by letting him go in with hands tied. Nobody
really wanted the responsibility of shooting a man who had
smuggled stolen cartridges across the Dead Sea, and might do it
again if allowed to live.

We rode for eighty or a hundred paces through an echoing tunnel
into a city of shacks and ruined houses that swarmed with armed
men, and it was evident that we were not the only ones who had
ignored the rule about numbers. Anazeh explained in an aside
to me that only those would obey that rule who did not dare
break it.

"Whoever makes laws should be strong enough to enforce them," he
said sagely. "And whoever obeys such a law is at the mercy of
those who break it," he added presently, by way of afterthought.
To make sure that I understood him he repeated that remark
three times.