It was now about the first of June. The harvests of Phoenicia were ripe, plenty of provisions were in sight, and the country was beautiful as they marched down the seacoast from Antioch. To their left rose the mountains of Lebanon. On their right the blue waters of the Mediterranean flashed in the sunlight of an eastern sky. Between mountain and sea the valleys and plains were filled with orchards of olive, orange and pomegranate. Among the plants which were new to the Crusaders was the sugar cane of the Syrian lowlands. Returning pilgrims carried this plant to Italy; the Saracens introduced it into Grenada, whence it spread throughout all the Spanish colonial possessions; and to-day is the basis of the wealth of Cuba, and one of the chief productions of our own Southern States. The Crusaders marched amid plenty and under balmy skies, with time enough to contemplate the fearful sacrifice of human life which their expedition had already cost. Battle and famine, disease and despair had cut off more than two hundred thousand of their number. Tens of thousands had deserted and returned to Europe; other thousands remained in the cities and villages of Palestine and were lost in the mixed crowds of the native races. While yet a vast host, the fighting force was about fifty thousand, but it was a compact and vigorous body of warriors. It marched better and lighter. Its victories gave it courage; its defeats had taught it the value of discipline. The names of Crusader and Christian carried terror wherever spoken in the Infidel camps or cities. Their zeal increased as they drew near the end of their long and wasting marches. Often the weary columns refused to halt for the night, but tramped on until forced to rest by sheer fatigue. To their disordered vision luminous angels appeared to guide them on the way. Bending away from the sea and passing Lydda, they soon gained the Heights of Ephraim, only sixteen miles from Jerusalem. Here their ranks were broken up as they entered these jagged ravines and narrow, lonesome valleys scorched by the rays of a summer sun, riddled by gullies and choked by great fragments of rock fallen from the precipitous sides of the mountains. Had they been attacked from the heights above by even a few resolute Mussulmen while in such disorder, fearful loss might have been inflicted; but no enemy appeared as the more ardent and faithful souls advanced barefooted, carrying with them the banner of the Prince of Peace to plant on the recaptured walls of the Holy City of God.