After six hours' exposure to the burning sun, the cool shades of Zebdane, its flowing waters and rich gardens had powerful inducements to stop us. In truth, we needed both rest and refreshment. We had set out early from Zahle, that we might cross the plain, and ascend the mountain before the heat of the day set in, intending to breakfast on or near the top of Anti-Lebanon; but when we reached the summit we found no water, and our muleteers had neglected to fill our leathern bags. There was no alternative but to go on. The burning sun on the top, added to the fatigue, made us all suffer for water; but none was found until we were close to Zebdane. When about to begin our descent, however, we met several muleteers with mules loaded with fruit, which they were carrying probably to Beyroot or Tripoli: in the fruit season, much fruit is brought from Damascus to Beyroot, Tripoli, and other places on the coast. Supposing that the mules had fruit in their packs, I was casting in my mind how we could induce them to let us have some, especially for quenching our thirst, when the foremost muleteer, while yet eight or ten yards from me, put his hand into his bosom, took out a handful of apples, and, with a kind salutation, handed them to me. I know not that the apples were better than usual, but I know that I have seldom eaten apples with a finer relish; they were most refreshing. Feeling much in need of our breakfast and rest, we passed through a part of Zebdane, hoping that we could find a cool and comfortable place for both these purposes. We wished, in short, to get into some one of the gardens, and under its trees loaded with fruit, and near the cool streams of water we saw flowing through them, take our rest; but no one invited us in; and to one or two applications we received a refusal. We stopped under a large tree in the street, and were about spreading our carpet, when a very good-looking female came out of a garden near us, and very kindly invited us in.