hundred yards from the water's edge, which begins to be covered over with a border of huge reeds, exactly similar to those we observed a month since, on our arrival at the Ayn-el-Rhoueir. By sixteen minutes past three, the side of the mountain becomes hollowed on our right, and forms a kind of circus in which I fancy I can recognise a crater. Two vast mounds of gray sand conceal the entrance to this crater. Beyond these appear again some ruins, which we pass through, to reach, by forty minutes past three, the spot where we find our camp already pitched. Two hundred yards beyond, and due south of our tents, is the hot salt-water spring, called Ayn-el-Fechkhah. The beach is here about two hundred yards wide, and the vicinity of the spring has increased the vegetation of the tall reeds, which form a dense thicket extending to the edge of the Sea. Lastly, a little to the north of our camp, between it and the lake, there are ruins just above ground, but sufficiently apparent, and belonging unquestionably to the most remote antiquity. They are known to the Arabs under the name of Kharbetel-Yahoud.

And here we are encamped once more, but for the last time, on the shore of this sea which has become so dear to us, now we can estimate at their correct value the fantastic fables so long invented to represent it as a place of malediction and death. I must confess, however, that on this particular occasion, the attractions of the neighbourhood are materially qualified, owing to the swarms of mosquitoes by which we are assailed. Not content with assaulting such

parts of our bodies as are exposed to their sting, these persevering enemies contrive to get within our clothing, and stab us even through cloth, linen, and flannel, with venom enough to drive us out of our senses.

Another comfort to be found in the vicinity of the Ayn-el-Fechkhah, I have already mentioned, namely, that the water of the spring is brackish, although, in the absence of better, it may be drank. We are obliged to use it for our broth and coffee, unquestionably the worst I ever tasted; but as we have no choice, we must even make wry faces and content ourselves with what we cannot remedy.

In spite of the mosquitoes, the Abbé and myself commence our usual hunt for ruins, plants, and shells, during the few hours that remain, before darkness sets in, and our welcome dinner is announced. The Abbé has selected the beach, making his way through the border of reeds; he has picked up, at the water's edge, some dead white shells which he exhibits to me in triumph, as a produce of the Asphaltic lake itself; but I soon induce him to abandon his conceit, by drawing his attention to the fact that these shells are mere melanopsides, nourished in the half-sweet water of the Ayn-el-Fechkhah; then, after their death, having been carried down into the lake, they have been cast back again on the beach, where time and weather and the bitter salt water by which they have been incessantly washed, have altered their outer shell and changed its original black colour to a brownish white. Just as the Abbé did, other travellers who have preceded us on these shores, have picked up dead shells thrown back

I shall not even venture on the discussion. I shall merely remark that in a building, most probably used for religious purposes, and which I discovered some time after in the midst of the ruins of Hazor, and likewise in the temple of Mount Gerizim, I found pavilions similar in every respect to these, disposed in exactly the like manner, at the angles and in the centre of each front of the square space forming the sacred enclosure.

Delighted with our archæological discovery, we returned to our tent, with the satisfaction of people who feel that they have not lost their time. Whilst at work, we had forgotten the mosquitoes; as soon as we are doing nothing, we again feel the stings which we had disregarded for the moment, and begin once more to tear our skin from the flesh, in futile attempts to relieve their consequences. But setting aside the mosquitoes, our evening passed most agreeably, arranging our acquisitions of the day; map, drawings, notes, plants, shells, everything has been attended to, and we have much enriched our stores during the few hours which have just passed over.

February 7th.

The night has been calm and pleasant; we were rather tired, and slept ten hours without waking. Perhaps the smoke of our tchibouks proved distasteful to the mosquitoes of the Ayn-el-Fechkhah ; but this is certain, they ceased to persecute us during our slumbers.

The Rev. Dr. Robinson gives, in his excellent book, a description of the Ayn-el-Fechkhah, which he

visited on his way from Ayn-Djedy to Jericho (on the 12th May, 1838). It was not possible that so attentive an observer could allow the fact of the presence of ruins situated so near the fountain to escape his notice. Accordingly he says: Near the fountain are the foundations of a small square tower and of other small buildings; whether ancient or not, we could not tell." It is much to be regretted that the learned traveller should not have spared, as we did, a portion of his time for the investigation of these interesting ruins. Had he done so, I am certain he would have satisfied himself that they were neither small nor of trifling importance.

Our plan to day is to encamp near the Mussulman convent of Naby-Mousa, a short march; but it offers this advantage, that we shall be able to make a more accurate survey of the country we are travelling through, having time at our disposal. We do not set out before a quarter-past eight, and then proceed north-north-east, leaving the Kharbet-el-Yahoud on our right. Twenty-five yards off to our left, the steep cliffs of the Djebel-Fechkhah begin to arise, whilst the sea is two hundred yards from our right, bordered by a dense thicket of gigantic reeds. By twenty-five minutes past eight, the foot of the mountain is concealed by a hill covered with fragments of ruins, and our road itself passes over similar vestiges, which only a practised eye can distinguish. A little further on, we are exactly in front of the summit of the Djebel-Atarous, which is most likely identical with the Mount Nebo of scripture.

By half-past eight, we notice, about fifty yards off,

on our left, a circular cavity, resembling a crater, having in front two high mounds of sand, which might very easily be taken for volcanic ashes. Ruins are apparent everywhere, and the Arabs give them the name of Kharbet-Fechkhah. The beach keeps constantly widening, and spreads out four hundred yards on our right, when we are in front of the Ayn-Araout, which flows along the edge of the reedy border. By thirtyfive minutes past eight, we intersect a boundary ditch, five yards wide, evidently constructed by human labour.

The foot of the mountain bears away from our course, which has not changed, and is now one hundred yards from the road. Almost immediately after having crossed the ditch I have just named, ruins appear again in much greater quantities, and these are unquestionably the skeleton of a large city, of which the vestiges we descried on the opposite side of the ditch. formed perhaps a suburb. We have now in sight, thirty yards off on our right, a ditch, lined with stones, which we follow in a parallel direction to a considerable extent. This is most probably the same boundary ditch that we crossed a moment since; and has made an elbow in the direction of the north-north-east. portion of these ruins through which we are now proceeding is still called by our Arabs, Kharbet-Fechkhah. By forty-one minutes past eight we are five hundred yards from the water's edge, and between our road and the foot of the mountain we descry the piled-up remains of a ruined tower. The border of reeds continues following the windings of the beach. Six minutes later we arrive opposite the northern extremity of a long

The