one had nothing to do in the world. Sit down and rest and let
us look at it."

"And I have got some luncheon for you, Mr. Dinwiddie. I should
have missed all this if you had not been with me. Papa would
never have come here."

There were many places in front of the cells where seats had
been cut out in the rock; and in one of these Mr. Dinwiddie
and I sat down, to eat fruit and biscuit and use our eyes; our
attendant Arab no doubt wondering at us all the while. The
landscape in view was exceedingly fine. We had the plains of
Jericho, green and lovely, spread out before us; we could see
the north end of the Dead Sea and the mouth of the Jordan; and
the hills of Moab, always like a superb wall of mountain
rising up over against us.

"Do you know where you are?" said Mr. Dinwiddie.

"Partly."

"The site of old Jericho is marked by the heaps and the ruins
which lie between us and our camp."

"Yes. That is _old_ Jericho."

"Over against us, somewhere among those Moab hills, is the
pass by which the hosts of the 'sons of Israel' came down,
with their flocks and herds, to the rich plains over there, -
the plains of Moab."