I had long looked forward to a visit to the Sea of Galilee (Lake Tiberias), and eventually, late in October, my ambition was fulfilled, for, taking advantage of "Damascus week," when leave was easy to get, I slipped off from Ludd one morning at 8.30, and arrived at Samakh, on the southern shores of the sea, at 2 o'clock in the afternoon.

My first peep of the Lake, as it stretched out before me and melted away in the purple haze to the north, was delightful. The colouring was superb and, as I sat on the edge of the rickety pier, I drank in my novel surroundings with all the enthusiasms of a rapturous pilgrim.

The Lake glistened and glinted in the brilliant sunshine, the abrupt arid-looking hill-sides deepened the silent mystery that seemed to hang over it. Away to the right was the spot where the Gadarene swine, possessed of the evil spirit, rushed down to the sea and destroyed themselves.

Peering through my glasses straight north, I could see in the shimmering distance the dense groves of evergreens which told me that this was the place where the Jordan plunged down from "the waters of Merom" through a rocky gorge, and entered the Lake. Away to the left I caught a glimpse of a few trees and houses, and I realized that I was looking at Capernaum, the place in which it will be remembered the worthy Roman Centurion built a synagogue. Glancing further west, and somewhat nearer to me, I saw the site of Bethsaida; sweeping further westward and yet nearer, the round towers and rectangular walls of Tiberias itself stood revealed, while close to my left hand, at the south-west corner of the Lake, the thriving Jewish colony of Kinnereth overlooked the spot where the Jordan rushed out of the Lake on its way to the Dead Sea.

Round about me were children revelling in the limpid water, and even a few discreetly-veiled damsels displayed a fair share of their neat limbs, while paddling along the sandy shore in the shade of the cliffs.

Suddenly, into all this old-world scenery, there dashed a lively motor-boat, which had come from Tiberias to collect passengers. We scrambled down from the crazy pier, and within an hour found ourselves climbing up the rickety gangway leading to Tiberias, a city which stands to-day much as King Herod Antipas, the builder, left it, although, in the meantime, it has been much devastated by earthquakes.

I was agreeably surprised to find a clean and fairly comfortable hotel, most capably managed by Frau Grossmann. It was still hot at Tiberias, and yet, by some mysterious means, Frau Grossmann always managed to produce a bottle of cold beer for dinner, a most grateful drink in this thirsty valley.

In the early morning, I hired a boat with a good-humoured Arab crew of three, and made an expedition across to Capernaum. Fish are still as plentiful here as they were in the days of Simon Peter, and the Capernaum fishermen still cast their nets as they did in apostolic times, and wear just as little clothing.

As I wandered among the ruins, I met a striking Franciscan, Father Vendelene, who was hospitality itself. He was a venerable German, a very fine-looking man, standing over six feet high, full of Christian charity, and apparently resigned to the blow which had fallen upon his nation. Besides being a monk he was also an architect and had built many monasteries, convents, and churches for the Franciscans in many parts of the world; but he had been a soldier before he became a monk, and I noticed, as he smoked a pipe and related to me his varied career, that his eyes glowed, and his broad shoulders were thrown back, as he described how he charged at the head of his squadron of Hussars in one of the battles of the Franco-Prussian War. The good Father took me round what was left of the synagogue built by the worthy Centurion whose servant was healed. It must have been a fine piece of architecture in its day, and it is a thousand pities that it has been levelled to the ground by an earthquake.

On my return to the hotel I found that two Nursing Sisters had arrived from Egypt to spend a few days at Tiberias, and at dinner I suggested that they should join me in my boat on a voyage of discovery which I intended to make across the Lake on the following morning, and to this they readily agreed.

The Military Governor of Tiberias had very kindly arranged for a mounted escort and a horse to be ready for me at the north end of the Lake where the Jordan enters it, as I wished to make an exploring expedition as far as possible up the river towards Lake Merom.

We left Tiberias at dawn and had a most delightful trip across the Lake, breakfasting in the boat on the way. Sister Cook, who was blessed with a charming voice, was moved to song, and the time passed so pleasantly that before we knew where we were, we found ourselves stuck on a sandbar in the Jordan River itself. Our boatmen hopped out, pushed the boat over the bar into deep water, and off we paddled again up the famous river. Great fields of ripe maize stretched away on either hand, and it was curious to see dusky youths perched aloft on stagings, armed with a sling, doing slaughter among any birds that dared to settle on their crops. We shoved the nose of our boat into the bank, took a stroll along a path through the tangled undergrowth, and soon met a crowd of Bedouins who presented us with some delicious maize cobs. In this manner we pleasantly meandered up the Jordan, now landing on this bank, and now on that, as it took our fancy, until at last a point was reached where the river was so shallow that the boat could go no further, and here I found my pony and escort awaiting me.

The latter was composed of local mounted Arab gendarmerie, under the command of a Jewish corporal, who had at one time served in the 40th Battalion Royal Fusiliers, and I noticed with pleasure that the Jew and the Arabs seemed to be on excellent terms.

I charged the boatman to take the Sisters to Capernaum, where I told them to call on Father Vendelene, who I knew would give them a warm welcome.

Having seen the boat safely started on the way, and with strict injunctions to the sailors to return for me in good time, I mounted my pony and started my exploration of the Upper Jordan.

My escort (who were also supposed to be guides) often got completely lost in the dense oleander jungle that here abounds, but after many trials and tribulations, in the course of which I came upon a submerged herd of buffalo sleeping peacefully in a marshy backwater, I emerged torn and bleeding at the entrance of the black rocky gorge down which the Jordan rushes. Riding here became impossible, so I went on foot until the westering sun warned me it was time to return.

On the way back, which was by another and much easier route, we came across a stalwart Bedouin hunter who, only five days before, had shot a splendid leopard on the hillside.

I asked him if there was any chance of my being able to do likewise. He replied that it was possible, but I might have to wait a month before I got a shot; I could, however, have other good hunting any day I liked, for the thickets were alive with wild boar. This man knew every track round about, and, as we were still shut in by dense thickets, he volunteered to come with me as a guide to the Lake. On parting he refused all offers of money, but later I sent him some tobacco, which I hope he received safely. My escort, when we reached open level country, raced and chased each other on their ponies, pulling up suddenly, or darting to the right or left in wild career. Both rode thoroughbred Arab mares and were immensely proud of their steeds, and their own prowess thereon.

On reaching the Lake, I espied the boat coming along, and as the water was shallow I urged my mount into it and rode out to meet the little vessel. The Arab boatmen, singing some quaint chorus, came alongside and I slipped off the saddle on to the gunwale, waved good-bye to my friends of the gendarmerie, and headed the boat for Capernaum to pick up the Sisters. Here I found that they had had a great time. Just as they were in the midst of a mild flirtation with Father Vendelene, who was showing them round his demesne, who should walk in but the Papal Legate, Cardinal Filippo Giustini, just arrived from Rome on a tour of inspection! The good cardinal was not horrified, however, for he insisted on the ladies coming into the Refectory, where he himself poured them out a cup of tea.

On the way back from Capernaum we hugged the west coast of the Lake and made a call at Migdal, an up-to-date Jewish fruit farm on the site of the ancient Magdala, the birthplace of that romantic figure in the New Testament, Mary Magdalene. Unfortunately, the manager, Mr. Glickin, was away, but his representative gave us a delightful tea in the open, under the shade of an enormous fig tree. Here fruits and flowers of all kinds were showered upon us, oranges, pomegranates, bananas, nuts, almonds, etc., all of the most delicious flavour. Our boatmen had much ado in carrying all our gifts down to the shore.

We then skirted the Lake, and when nearing Tiberias saw the caves where the famous Jewish philosopher Maimonides, and the two famous Rabbis, Meir and Ben Akiba, are buried.

Not very far from Tiberias is the pit of Joseph, which old Arabian geographers maintain is the identical one into which the favourite son of Jacob was cast.

Darkness was now swiftly coming on and, as we neared Tiberias, in the twinkling of an eye, a sudden squall burst upon us, and we were glad to reach the little haven in safety.

Altogether it had been a very full day and the Sisters assured me that they would look upon it as one of the red-letter days of their lives.

Before leaving the Sea of Galilee, I made an excursion to the wonderful hot sulphur baths, about three miles to the south of Tiberias, and saw the boiling water gushing out of the cleft in a rock. There is a bathhouse close by where people afflicted with rheumatism dip in these medicinal waters and are made whole again.

On the way back from these springs I passed through the ruins of the old city of Tiberias, with its columns all awry and prostrate, and mounds of dÉbris covering a considerable extent. On a hill, just above the modern Tiberias, stand the ruins of Herod's Palace, and I there saw what is reputed to be the chamber where Herodias' daughter danced for the head of John the Baptist.

In enterprising hands, Tiberias could be made to flourish exceedingly as a winter resort. There one can have excellent boating, fishing, boar-hunting, explorations on horseback through the exceedingly interesting country which surrounds it, and at the same time cure all one's ills in the wonderful hot baths.

Beautiful Palestinian lace is made in this old Hebrew city by industrious Jewish girls, and I brought away some very fine examples of their work.

There is an old synagogue near the Hot Springs where the celebrated Rabbi Meir expounded the law to Israel.

Before I left Galilee I met my old friend, Captain Trumpeldor, who had served under me in the Zion Mule Corps in Gallipoli. I was delighted to see this gallant officer once more, and we had a long chat over old times. Trumpeldor had only just returned from Russia, where he had been organizing a Jewish Legion for service in Palestine. The Bolsheviks, however, interfered with his plans, and he was lucky to escape from their clutches. Sad to relate, a few months after our meeting in Galilee, Captain Trumpeldor met his death there, while defending a Jewish Colony from a raiding party of Bedouins. He directed the defence for two hours after he had been mortally wounded, and then died, fighting to the last. He was one of the most gallant men I have ever met, and his loss is keenly felt by all his friends and comrades.

The Sea of Galilee is bound to have an enormous influence on the economic life of Palestine. Here we have stored up practically an unlimited supply of latent energy. This great mass of water is situated some 700 feet above the level of the Dead Sea, into which its overflow, the Jordan runs.

A canal constructed from the south-west corner of Lake Tiberias, and graded along the Jordan Valley, would, in the length of a few miles, give a vertical fall of over 300 feet. A suitable hydro-electric plant erected at the site of the falls would produce enough energy to revolutionise every phase of life in the Holy Land.

It must be remembered that so far neither coal nor oil have been found in the country, while forests do not exist; consequently the cost of all kinds of fuel is very high, and industrial undertakings, where cheap power is a factor, are out of the question.

What a Heaven-sent boon then is this stored-up energy of the blessed Jordan. Cheap light, heat, and power can be had from it throughout the length and breadth of Palestine. Touch a switch in summer and a whirling fan will keep one's house delightfully cool, while in the winter electrical fires will provide warmth in the chilly evenings on the hill-tops. Evil smelling paraffin lamps and stoves will be a thing of the past, for, of course, electricity will provide all that is necessary in the way of fuel and light.

Ample power is available for the electrification of the existing railways, and, of course, light tramways could be operated all over the country.

Great areas of land now lying fallow could be irrigated and made fruitful and capable of sustaining a large population.

If Palestine is to become a home for any large number of the Jewish people, this great source of economic life must be turned to account, and all the land blessed by the amazing benefits which electricity can shower upon it.

Jewish brains, Jewish capital, and Jewish workers will undoubtedly carry out this scheme, and gradually the country, which is now arid and neglected, will be turned once more into a land flowing with milk and honey. The hills will again be terraced and crowned with fig and olive trees, and the valleys and plains will abound with ripening corn.

The country which for hundreds of years has been at a standstill, lends itself to all kinds of industrial enterprises, such as fruit-farming, olive oil and soap factories, fishing and canning, etc.

The trade and commerce that will flow through Palestine is not to be measured by the paltry revenue returns now shown. When the country is developed, the old trade routes with the hinterland reopened, and the ports at Haifa and Jaffa improved, its importance, commercially, will be enhanced beyond all recognition.