mounted and armed with sabres and long guns. Our man, Mustapha, had charge
of the baggage-mule, carrying our tent and the provisions for the trip. It
was a dull, sultry morning; a dark, leaden haze hung over Jerusalem, and
the _khamseen_, or sirocco-wind, came from the south-west, out of the
Arabian Desert. We had again resumed the Oriental costume, but in spite of
an ample turban, my face soon began to scorch in the dry heat. From the
crest of the Hill of Offence there is a wide view over the heights on both
sides of the valley of the Brook Kedron. Their sides are worked into
terraces, now green with springing grain, and near the bottom planted with
olive and fig trees. The upland ridge or watershed of Palestine is
cultivated for a considerable distance around Jerusalem. The soil is light
and stony, yet appears to yield a good return for the little labor
bestowed upon it.

Crossing the southern flank of Mount Olivet, in half an hour we reached
the village of Bethany, hanging on the side of the hill. It is a miserable
cluster of Arab huts, with not a building which appears to be more than a
century old. The Grotto of Lazarus is here shown, and, of course, we
stopped to see it. It belongs to an old Mussulman, who came out of his
house with a piece of waxed rope, to light us down. An aperture opens from
the roadside into the hill, and there is barely room enough for a person
to enter. Descending about twenty steps at a sharp angle, we landed in a
small, damp vault, with an opening in the floor, communicating with a
short passage below. The vault was undoubtedly excavated for sepulchral
purposes, and the bodies were probably deposited (as in many Egyptian
tombs) in the pit under it. Our guide, however, pointed to a square mass
of masonry in one corner as the tomb of Lazarus, whose body, he informed
us, was still walled up there. There was an arch in the side of the vault,
once leading to other chambers, but now closed up, and the guide stated
that seventy-four Prophets were interred therein. There seems to be no