"We must dismount here, Daisy," said papa the next minute. And
he set me the example. "Our own feet will do this next piece
of road most satisfactorily."

We scrambled down, over the loose stones and rock, the very
steep pitch just below Bethany. I do not know how deep, but
hundreds of feet certainly. Our mules and horses came on as
they could.

"Is this to be taken as a specimen of Palestine roads, Daisy?"

"I believe they are pretty bad, papa."

"How do you like it?"

"Oh, papa," said I, stopping, "I like it. Look - look yonder -
do you see that glimmer? do you know what that is, papa?"

"It is water -"

"It is the Dead Sea."

"Thirty-six hundred feet below. We have a sharp ride before
us, Daisy."

"Not quite so much below us - we have come down some way.
Papa, don't you enjoy it?"

"I enjoy _you_," he said, smiling. "Yes, child, I enjoy it; only
I don't enjoy such villainous roads."