We found matters sadly changed since our visit of the year before. It was now almost harvest-time, and there was little to reap, for little had been planted. Many of the colonists had fallen sick, and not a few had laid their bones under the strange soil to mingle with the dust of ages. Some had been assisted to return to their Western home by a benevolent member of the party whose pilgrimage is immortalized by Mark Twain in the _Innocents Abroad_. Some who had privately and wisely retained a small sum for a "rainy day" had gone off, abandoning their interest in the common weal. But many had, in the inception, with unquestioning faith, placed their all in the common stock, and were unable to extract any part thereof from the custody of Adams, who not only did not account for the funds, but by this time had taken to drink, and was generally to be seen (when to be seen at all) in a state either of maudlin piety or of morose defiance of all questions and demands. Of course, under these circumstances the business-affairs of the colony went to rack and ruin. The small number of his disciples who remained were suffering from want of comforts and from malaria, home-sickness and disappointment. One or two of the women had taken to themselves Syrian husbands, and one or two of the men, with Yankee readiness and adaptation where a penny was to be turned, had taken to "guiding" travellers to Jerusalem or trading in horseflesh; but nearly all of those who were left were longing for "home," and would be glad to get there on any terms.