We saw several encampments of Bedouins on the plain. Their tents are said to be made of goats' hair. They are black--"black as the tents of Kedar," thought I. There were many flocks of sheep and goats about their tents. The Bedouins look almost as black as their tents. They are a dirty-looking set. We spoke to several of them, and tried to get a drink of milk. They, however, were so indifferent and slow, and showed so little inclination to serve us, that we passed on. I noticed before one of their tents, a huge skin, suspended on forks. It either had been taken off the animal nearly whole, or had been sewed up. It was full of milk, which they were shaking, and thus churning it, making butter, or something of that sort. I did not much envy the eaters of it--but every man to his liking. The whole plain lay open; and as far as we could see, without any landmarks to point out the special property-rights, which particular persons may have to parts of it. There are no fences, nor hedges, nor even ditches, for the purpose of designating property. There are, it is true, channels cut in different directions through the plain for the purpose of irrigation; but only for that purpose. The flocks that wander over the plain, are under the care of keepers; whose business it is not to allow them to commit trespass on spots under cultivation; except there, the flocks go pretty much where they please, and eat whatever they can find; and really they appear to have a poor chance to find much; the above spots excepted. The Anti-Lebanon lies on the south-east side of this plain; and is very much such a mountain as Lebanon. It is, perhaps, as a general thing, not quite so high. Still, to the south of us it attains to a great elevation, and its upper part in that direction has much snow upon it. These two mountains, the Lebanon and Anti-Lebanon, are nearly of the same appearance; and are nearly parallel to each other, having between them the plain, nearly level, of an average width of from six to ten miles, in the part that I have seen. Our road, which was but a path for mules and donkeys, led us directly up the mountain, winding and crossing a hollow, that ran up to the top. The ascent was steep and fatiguing, and took us about three hours. There were a few thin bushes, and as we got up into the mountain we found a good many oak-trees--a few of them of the size of a small apple-tree, but most of them were only six or eight feet high. As we approached the top, these were discontinued; and over the whole of the upper part of the mountain, there was almost a total want of vegetation. A few stunted thistles and bunches of furze were almost the only vegetable growth to be seen.