Leaving Upper Bethhoron, our path lay for some time along the old Roman road, sections of which remain as perfect as when the chariot of the proud Cestius was driven over it. Turning to the southeast, in two hours we reached the celebrated city of Gibeon. Like most Oriental towns, it crowns the summit of a conspicuous hill, which, being separated from the surrounding hills, rises in isolation from a noble plain. The encircling plains are unsurpassed in Southern Palestine for the richness of their soil, and their meadow-like smoothness and verdure. Covering many acres are vineyards, olive-groves, and almond orchards. Such is the peculiar formation of the hill on which the town is built, that the rocks protruding from the sides serve the double purpose of steps and terraces. Over the summit are scattered the small stone buildings of El-Jib, which in part are composed of materials of great antiquity. Without walls and gates, the city is destitute of fortifications, and the crooked, unpaved streets are accessible to all. The present inhabitants are an illustration that character, like names, is transmitted from one generation to another. In their address and shrewdness they resemble their ancestors. The Sheikh of Gibeon is a man of medium height, and, unlike his countrymen, is emotional, communicative, and exceedingly gracious. Pressing us to enter his khan,[423] he refreshed us with coffee, and, failing to persuade us to remain during the night, he accompanied us through the village, and received our gifts with flowing eyes and many bows. Nor are the children less crafty. Boys kissed our hand for paras, and for a piastre the maidens at the fountains let down their pitchers from their heads that we might drink. Reading the story of their ancestral cunning on the spot, we could easily fancy their fathers gathering together the emblems of deception to decoy the Israelites into an alliance that brought protection to themselves, but war to their allies; and with less difficulty their descendants could collect tattered garments, clouted shoes, rent wine-skin bottles, musty bread, and jaded asses, and with equal confidence declare themselves to be “embassadors from a far country.” Illustration: GIBEON.