April 1859.

The usual way by ’Ain Sa’adeh, Beled esh Shaikh and Yajoor; the woody sides of Carmel diversified in colour at this season of spring; there was the dark green of the bellota oak, the yellow of the abundant broom, the dark red-brown of the sprouting terebinth and the pale green of young-leafed trees of many other kinds. There was, moreover, the fragrance of an occasional pine, and of the hawthorn, (Za’aroor,) which is of stronger scent than in England; and the ground was sprinkled with purple and yellow crocuses; also with anemones of every shade of purple and white, besides the scarlet, which alone are found in JudÆa, but there in profusion.

Turning off from the road to Jeneen, I rose upon high ground, and came to Umm ez ZeenÂt, (mother of beauties.) Our people were of opinion that this name did not apply so much to the daughters of the village as to the landscape scenery, for near it we commanded an extensive prospect, including Hermon with its snows one way, and the “great and wide sea” in the opposite quarter.

We lost our way for a time, leaving Rehhaneeyeh on our left, and straying as far as DÂliet er Rohha; on recovering the right road we arrived at Cuferain, (the “double village”) and to Umm el Fahh’m, marching among silent woods often tangled by neglected growth, and abounding in a variety of unknown trees, besides the Seringa and the oaks with much broader leaves than are ever seen in the south; also, for a long period we had frequent recurring views of snowy Hermon in the N.E.

The considerable village of ’Aneen we found almost entirely broken up, by the recent warfare between the partisans of Tokan and ’Abdu’l Hadi. At length our repeated calls and promises echoing among the apparently forsaken houses, brought out an old man, and he promised to procure a guide to take us within sight of ’ArÂbeh, after which several women peered out of their miserable dwellings.

The guide conducted us through large woods on heights and in depths, among fragrant herbs and blossoming trees growing wild, till some time after sunset, when we stopped for the night at a poor village called Harakat; we were all tired, but especially the two women of a Christian party going to Jerusalem, who had attached themselves to us all the day for the benefit of our protection.

The ground on which the tent was set up was wet, as there had been some rain at the place that day, and springs of water were running to waste near us; the village people served as guards around us, on being fed at our expense; the pilgrims spread their beds in one direction outside the tent, and the kawwÂses in the opposite.

By the light of a brilliant morning we marched forwards to ’ArÂbeh, which was being besieged by the Turkish government, in force of infantry, cavalry, and artillery.