As we descended into a deep glen between verdant hills, the partridges were clucking in multitudes, and so unaccustomed to intrusion, that sometimes they came running up towards us; magpies were flying about, and we were told that the glen abounds in wild beasts, which there seemed no reason to doubt. For hours we wound round and round within this cool and refreshing labyrinth of arbutus, bellota or evergreen oak, aspen, clematis, broom, and what looked like the sloe, besides other and unknown vegetation. The bellota was often respectable-sized timber in girth, though of no considerable height; sometimes our path was overshadowed by their branches stretching across, and we had to stoop beneath them. On the sides of the hills were many fires of the charcoal burners. As evening came on, we could see our lofty green prison walls tipped with the setting sun. At length the glen seemed to be terminated by a fine round hill, crowned with a village standing across the passage. The appearance improved as we drew nearer; inhabitants were not few; large flocks and herds were winding by several ways towards it. The people named it _Khirbet Sellim_, (Sellim in ruin) but how could all this cheerful scene belong to a ruin? The sun set and we had another hour of the lovely glen to thread by starlight. At last we emerged by a gently inclined plain, which gradually became rougher, and we mounted the steep hill on which _Tibneen_ is built. There we determined to halt for the night, as our cattle were unable to hold on to _Bint el Jebail_. We pitched on the threshing floor between the village and the castle. This castle is the citadel of all the Belad Besharah, from the Leontes to Safed, and Ahhmad Bek, its owner, is called by his people "the Shaikh of Shaikhs;" by the Turkish government he is recognised as Kaimakam of the province. The people were of ill behaviour, and talked about quarantine, but the population of the district are at all times a churlish race, being of the Sheah or 'Ali sect of Moslems; they curse and loathe our Mohammedans, and oppress the sparse families of Christians within their reach. They are called the Mutawaleh. At first they refused to let us have anything, till the governor, on ascertaining who we were, sent us down some lemonade; still we got but few articles of food, and our horses were left without water. My kawwas Salim was then taken ill from the effect of having slept the preceding night with his head uncovered, and with reluctance our own people put up the small tent that travelled with us, on purpose for them; they always prefer sleeping in open air, only covering the head well with the cloak. This was Saturday night, and we had not an agreeable prospect for a Sabbath rest on the morrow. The wind was strong all night on that lofty situation, but there was no dew.