once to be "St. George's Mount." A fine-looking Arab, "with a long black beard," who saluted and joined us before we reached the city, seemed a perfect personification of "El Hakim" on his way to the pavilion of Richard. The ruined bastion before us cailed to my mind the story of that awful day, when the "Cursed Tower" fell before the engines of Islam, and the last hope of Christendom, the valiant Templars and their comrades, were trampled beneath the feet of two hundred thousand Moslems, "and the last vestige of the Christian power in Syria was swept from the face of the earth.”

On entering the town, we perceived that these overturn. ed ramparts bore the marks of some recent attack, and the ruined houses, which most severely felt the effects of the enemy's projectiles, told of the last conqueror of Palestine, who still wields the iron sceptre of Egypt over this ever devoted land.

This place, from its having been the most secure harbour in the Levant, and its easy access from all parts of the inte. rior, is truly the "Key" of Syria, and hence the frequent struggles for the possession of it in all ages.

As I passed the gates I experienced a shudder, which made my head feel as if it sat but lightly on my shoulders, caused by the sudden recollection of the atrocities here committed by that barbarous "Blue Beard," Djezzar Pacha.

The present governor had again left the place previous to our arrival; we therefore were spared the necessity of paying our respects to him. Like all the Arab towns I have yet seen, Acre is a miserable, filthy place, inhabited, apparently, only by troops and lazzaroni. Therefore, without dismounting from our horses, we went through its principal streets (lanes), and soon found ourselves again in the open country, on our road to Nazareth.

At this point we left the coast, and east, towards the mountains of Galilee.

proceeded directly After a few hours'

ride over one of the most fertile plains I ever saw, without

meeting with a village or house, we entered the defiles of the tribe of Zebulon.

At noon we halted near another of those wells, to which, three or four thousand years ago, the shepherd drove his flocks to slake their thirst, and repose during the heat of the day. We spread our carpets on the ground, under the shade of some fig-trees, in a large orchard; after which we rode several hours through a narrow defile. The luxuriance of the vegetation here was equal to anything I had ever before

seen.

Beyond this defile we came to a beautiful plain, extending about four miles in length by two in breadth, as level as a floor, and surrounded by high hills on every side, except the narrow pass by which we entered, formerly the outlet of one of those post-diluvian reservoirs, which, bursting its barriers, permitted its waters to drain off into the ocean. The deep alluvion of this plain shows plainly that it was the bed of a lake at no distant period previous to its occupation by the tribe of Zebulon. The whole of it was one grain-field, and the waving corn was as luxuriant as anything I had seen on the fertile banks of the Nile.

A small strip of pasture was reserved at the base of the southern range of hills, which was partly occupied by several caravans that had encamped there for the night. Darkness overtook us at this place very unexpectedly, for we intended to arrive at Nazareth yesterday. We had an adventure last night, which, now that it is over, affords us much amusement; but, for the time, we were much puzzled, and myself not a little alarmed.

On leaving Acre, we left Giovanni and François to make purchases of some fresh provisions. Abdallah remained with them as guide. They were to overtake us before evening. In this we were disappointed. When in the defile, we mistook our way, and rode for an hour up a lateral valley, which took us some distance from our road. This, to VOL. II.-D

gether with several halts, in order that our rear guard might come up, caused us to be overtaken by night before we arrived at the place of our destination.

We

It was fortunate for us that we found a well. Our three principal servants had not yet joined us, and we had some difficulty in getting our tent pitched. To this dilemma suc. ceeded another. We found that, after a thirteen hours' ride, our appetites began to demand the usual attentions of Monsieur François. After waiting for some time longer, we gave him up for the night, and set about catering for ourselves. Here was another trouble; the keys of the cooking department and larder were snugly stowed away in the belt of our little Frenchman. What was to be done? could get neither light, fire, nor provisions. A keen appetite sharpens the wits, and we discovered that it was possible to break the locks. A light was soon procured; but, alas! only to disclose to our view a "beggarly account of empty boxes" in the larder department. Our salted stores were now broken in upon, and, when we were hunting up something in which to cook our dinner, we accidentally found at the bottom of a casserole a pair of fowls. Our lamentation was now turned into rejoicing, only to revert again into farther disappointment. I will make a long story very short, by merely transcribing for you my short-hand notes as they stand in my tablets. "Raw chickens, raw ham, and no fuel wherewithal to cook them. Mr. H. recollected having seen before night a dry tree, due south from our tent; took lantern, hatchet, and pocket-compass, and navigated to the spot through an ocean of wheat, breast high. First attempt upon a dry limb, hatchet flew over the top of the tree; returning in despair, stumbled over an old wooden watertrough. Some dry thorns and a canteen box soon reduced the same to a good bed of coals. Gridiron put in requisition; also Mr. R.'s culinary talents, acquired among the prairie bivouacs; the latter busy basting and turning chick.

ens, while Mr. H. was fully occupied in beating off a troop of hungry jackals, which seemed determined to lay main basse upon our dinner. Well deep; first attempt for water, lost our pail. Sent down our urn; it would not sink; tied a stone to it; got water; when well boiled, overset. Second edition more successful. Tea made.

"Two hours' hard work, after thirteen of hard riding, a little too much for one day. Enjoyed this meal more than the best of Very's or Grignon's productions."

Notwithstanding our fatigue and the lateness of the hour, we determined not to omit our usual reading of the good book; but, after puzzling ourselves some time with the geographical lore of Joshua (xix., 10, 16), and endeavouring to follow him on all our ancient and modern maps, we renounced the fruitless endeavour of defining precisely "the inheritance of the children of Zebulon."

We now retired for the night, before which we made an extra inspection of our arms, all of which were double loaded for this occasion. The gentlemen took turns in standing sentinel, as our man of war and his lieutenant were not on duty in the camp, and we imagined ourselves to be among bad neighbours.

At one time in the night the gentleman on guard heard footsteps stealthily approaching our tent. Waking the other without noise, they both sallied out, doubly armed with their hair triggers and percussion locks, as ready to do battle in my defence as erst did valiant knights of old in honour of their ladye fair. As they proceeded in the direction of the advancing foe, his footsteps fell heavier and heavier until he approached almost to the muzzles of their guns. They hailed, but no response; when, just as they were about to fire over his head, in order to intimidate him, a huge camel gave a loud bray close to their ears, which sent them back to their tent with lighter hearts than when they left it. In the mean time the noise awoke me, when, calling out

repeatedly and receiving no answer, I found I was alone. My first impulse was to seize my pistols from under my pillow, and the next to make a light. At this moment my ready champions returned from their reconnoitring, and relieved me from my trepidation.

Nothing more occurred until the bell summoned me to breakfast this morning at the late hour of eight.

Three hours after brought us to where I am now writing, where we found that our missing servants had arrived last evening.

They had passed by us when we took the wrong path yesterday, and, riding on, reached this place at dark, and, finding that we had not arrived, they sent scouts in every direction to look for us. Being unsuccessful, they took up their quarters with Giovanni's old friends, the monks in the convent of Nazareth.

Yesterday we passed by a town built among the ruins of the ancient Sephoris, once the principal city of Galilee, and "the native place of Joachim and Anna, the parents of the Virgin Mary."

The whole country through which we rode yesterday was filled with delicious flowers. Those which are peculiar to our own country here attain a greater size, and their colours are more brilliant than with us. I collected some fine specimens of these for my herbarium, as well as of those which are peculiar to this locality. The thistle is found here in endless variety, and extremely beautiful. myrtle is very abundant and of great size. The valleys near Nazareth are exceedingly rich, the soil consisting of decomposed limestone, formed from the abrasions of the rocks on each side.

The

The nearer we approached to Nazareth, the greater became our anxiety to see it. As firm believers in the narrative of the important events which occurred during the sojournment of the blessed Jesus upon earth (the scene of