they approached. They were bee-catchers, bright-colored birds of the swallow kind. A strong north wind soon carried the rain clouds and the birds far away, and cooled the air, which had been very sultry.
On September 11th, Miss Creasy—who had long been resident in Jerusalem-took me to see Philip's Fountain, which is about two hours south-west by west of Jerusalem. We started early, with one kawass, and rode over the rocky hills to the Convent of the Cross before the dew had disappeared. We met large companies of "fellahîn "—peasant women—flocking to the city with fruit and vegetables. Most of them wore blue linen shirts, white cotton vails, which fell over their shoulders, and crimson girdles fastened very low. The foremost were carrying a great variety of cucumbers and vegetable marrows, and the fruit of the dark egg-plant, which is pear-shaped, of a deep violet-red color, and very glossy. A group of girls, who balanced on their heads baskets of grapes from the Greek gardens, made a beautiful picture; trailing branches and tendrils of the vine were hanging over their shoulders. We went down a narrow valley, newly planted with mulberries and vines by the enterprising monks of the Greek convent. On the summit of a steep hill, on our right, we saw the picturesque little village of Mâlihah, and large kilns for preparing charcoal were burning on the rock ledges or terraces below it.
We entered the Wady-el-Werd, or Valley of Roses—well named; its broad bed, for above a mile, is like a thicket of rose-bushes, cultivated for making rose-water and conserves. Beyond this garden, which attracted thousands of birds to feast on its crimson berries or hips, we found fig-orchards, blackberry-bushes, and walnut-trees. On our left hand we saw the remains of an ancient building, large hewn stones, excavations in the native rock, a few fallen columns, and a small stone fountain called Ain Yalo, or the Spring of Ajalon. We were following the course of the ancient road "which goeth down from Jerusalem to Gaza." Long ago,
