They had climbed to the summit of a high hill. Before them stretched the plain of the Jordan. To the north a silver thread ran through a vast tapestry of green. To the south was the Sea of Salt, like a shield of bronze inlaid with variegated precious stones, so many were the hues which the soft and cloud-flecked light painted upon its surface. The plain of Jordan lay thousands of feet beneath them, a picture bordered on the east by the cliffs of Moab, whose many-colored rocks gleamed like piled fragments of a rainbow, and to the north by the white shoulders of Hermon, like those of a maiden who has not yet learned to shun the eyes of men. Midway the scene were the gray walls and flattened white domes of Jericho. Scattered here and there, as far as the eye could reach, were clusters of tents. In one group were hundreds of awning-like structures made of black camel's hair. In another group were pyramidal tents, some white, some striped with orange or blue. In the distance these flaxen towns, with green fig orchards or dusky forests of olive for the background, gleamed like dewdrops on outspread leaves. Deborah's cry had been evoked partly by the magnificent vision. Had Emir's big eyes detected the tents of his master in the distance? Nadan pointed out to Deborah the various camps. The Jordan valley had become the rendezvous of the warriors of many tribes, waiting the decision of the Council of the Sheikhs for their contemplated raid upon the Maccabæans. "The camps will not break up to-morrow, as had been planned, of that I am sure," said the guide. "There has been much division of opinion among the Sheikhs. Some distrust the Greeks more than they hate the Jews; and the news from Jerusalem that the Greeks have broken faith with those who, like yourself, have gone over to them, will destroy all zeal for helping the foreigners, as the dead water of the Sea of Salt yonder kills the bushes on the shore. I would rather make alliance with Judas, for every Bedouin loves a hero." Nadan instantly repented this last sentence of his speech, for he knew that the Hellenizing sect of the Jews, to which he assumed that his companion belonged, hated the Maccabæans. He glanced at her face to meet her displeasure with apology. But no frown was there. She even put her hand on Nadan's shoulder as he stood by her saddle. He thought he detected in her look a tender passion astir for himself; for was he not a hero too?