"Like an arrow from the quiver,
To the sad and lone Dead Sea,
Thou art rushing, rapid river,
Swift, and strong, and silently,
Through the dark green foliage stealing,
Like a silver ray of light."

Descending from the hill we may follow James and John in their rambles
in the region near their home. On the northern extremity of the lake,
among the colossal reeds, and meadow grass and rushes, they watch the
little tortoises creeping among them; and the pelicans which make them
their chosen home; and the blue and white winged jays that have strayed
from the jungles through which the Jordan has pushed its way; and the
favorite turtle-doves; and the blue birds so light that one can rest on
a blade of grass without bending it; and the confiding larks and storks
which, not fleeing, seem to welcome the visitors to their haunts. Here
grow oleanders of such magnificence as is seen nowhere else in the
country, twenty feet high, sometimes in clumps a hundred feet in
circumference; and "masses of rosy red flowers, blushing pyramids of
exquisite loveliness."

Our ramblers follow the western shore to the shallow hot stream, where
boy-like,--or manlike as I did--they burn their hands in trying to
secure pebbles from its bottom. They rest under the shade of an olive or
a palm. They gather walnuts which are in great abundance; and grapes and
figs, which can be done ten months in the year; and oranges and almonds
and pomegranates.

They wander through meadows rich in foliage, and gay with the brightness
and richness of flowers which retain their bloom in Galilee when they