The day was now far spent. Three hours of hard riding were before us, and it was necessary to reach Nablous before sundown or the gates would be shut. Riding through ancient towns, over plantations of figs, and amid the most enchanting scenery, we passed, in less than half an hour, the hamlet of Sâwieh, perched on a lofty ridge on the left, and a short distance beyond we came to an old castle on the right, shaded by a noble oak, whose vast dimensions and majestic form recalled the famous oaks of Mamre. Descending into a deep valley running at right angles with the great northern route, on the north was Kubalân, and on the south Yetna, high up in the eternal hills, amid gardens of figs and olives, as if suspended in the air. Such a view is worth a pilgrimage to see. Toiling up the opposite side of the valley, in half an hour we gained the summit, and the beauties of Ephraim lay like a landscape of glory before us. Interjections were faint symbols of the joyous emotions awakened by the scene. The white limestone rocks and verdureless mountains of the south had given place to the vine-clad hills of the north, crowned with the benediction of the dying patriarch, “God make thee as Ephraim.”[476] At our feet lay the great plain of El-Mukhnah, unbroken by fence or tower, dotted with groves, and rich in fields of wheat and corn. Spreading out more than a mile and a half in breadth, and extending more than seven miles north and south, it is bounded on the east by a range of low, dark hills, and from its western border rise Gerizim and Ebal, the former crowned with a small white chapel reflecting the setting sun. Far away to the northeast, rising like a column of alabaster against the calm blue sky of Damascus, was Mount Hermon, the symbol of a purer world. Rapidly descending into the plain below and turning northward, we soon passed the large town of Hawâra, built on the mountain slope, and inhabited by a turbulent community. Just beyond the village the road branches; the path to the left, after winding round the base of Gerizim and crossing a mountain spur, enters the Vale of Shechem near Nablous; the other path, continuing up the plain, leads to the city by way of Jacob’s Well. Choosing the latter, we found it the best road in Palestine. After following the base of the mountain for a while, the path diverges to the centre of the plain and passes through the most enchanting scenery. Like a thing of beauty, the memory of that evening’s ride still lingers in my mind. The deepening shadows of Gerizim had thrown their lengthened forms over the plains; shepherds were returning with their flocks; peasants were plodding homeward their weary way; and in the dim twilight of departing day, and amid that solemn silence which awakens profound reflections, we reached the patriarchal well. Intending to visit this interesting spot again, we ascended the Vale of Nablous and entered the ancient city of Shechem just as the old gate-keeper was turning the ponderous key.