the plains
of Palestine. There were purple, white and scarlet poppies; the rich
crimson larkspur; the red anemone; the golden daisy; the pink convolvulus;
and a host of smaller blooms, so intensely bright and dazzling in their
hues, that the meadows were richer than a pavement of precious jewels. To
look towards the sun, over a field of scarlet poppies, was like looking on
a bed of live coals; the light, striking through the petals, made them
burn as with an inward fire. Out of this wilderness of gorgeous color,
rose the tall spires of a larger plant, covered with great yellow flowers,
while here and there the snowy blossoms of a clump of hawthorn sweetened
the morning air.

A short distance beyond Kuembeh, we passed another group of ancient tombs,
one of which was of curious design. An isolated rock, thirty feet in
height by twenty in diameter, was cut so as to resemble a triangular
tower, with the apex bevelled. A chamber, containing a sarcophagus, was
hewn out of the interior. The entrance was ornamented with double columns
in bas-relief, and a pediment. There was another arched chamber, cut
directly through the base of the triangle, with a niche on each side,
hollowed out at the bottom so as to form a sarcophagus.

Leaving these, the last of the Phrygian tombs, we struck across the valley
and ascended a high range of hills, covered with pine, to an upland,
wooded region. Here we found a summer village of log cabins, scattered
over a grassy slope. The people regarded us with some curiosity, and the
women hastily concealed their faces. Mr. H. rode up to a large new house,
and peeped in between the logs. There were several women inside, who
started up in great confusion and threw over their heads whatever article
was most convenient. An old man, with a long white beard, neatly dressed
in a green jacket and shawl turban, came out and welcomed us. I asked for
_kaimak_, which he promised, and immediately brought out a carpet and
spread it on the ground. Then followed a large basin of kaimak, with
wooden spoons, three loaves of bread, and a plate of cheese. We seated
ourselves on the carpet, and delved in with the spoons, while the old man
retired lest his appetite should be provoked. The milk was excellent, nor
were the bread and cheese to be despised.

While we were eating, the Khowagee, or schoolmaster of the community, a
genteel little man in a round white turban, came op to inquire of Francois
who we were. "That eff