Some authorities identify this region as the place where was the "wood of Ephraim." That being true, it is the place where Absalom lost his life. Certain it is, even to-day, that to leave the little path that we are following would mean to become hopelessly entangled in jungles of prickly oak and other growth. Even in the path it is with difficulty that I keep my garments from being torn from me. If this be the location of the "wood of Ephraim," then here the forces of Absalom under Amasa and the armies of David under Joab fought in those trying days of David's exile. Only a few miles away, at Mahanaim, David sent out his men, commanding that they touch not the young man. Then he waited for the news of the conflict. In the thickets of Gilead the first "battle of the wilderness" was fought. It was a decisive engagement. Joab's veterans of many wars were too strong for the rebel's army. Absalom sought safety in flight, but in trying to ride hurriedly through the wild tangle his head caught in the branches of a great oak, and before he could extricate himself, Joab had found him and thrust him through the heart; then Joab's ten armor-bearers encompassed the unfortunate victim and finished the deadly work. And then, though Absalom had reared for himself a beautiful monument in the king's dale at Jerusalem, they took his body from the tree and threw it into a pit near by and made a great heap of stones over it. There was no weeping at the grave of Absalom. With the death of Absalom the rebellion was at an end; but David's heart was broken. He waited at the gate of the city, more interested in the welfare of his son than in the success of his army. Swift runners approach! In answer to his question, "Is the young man safe?" he hears reply that pierces his heart like a dagger. Up to his chamber over the gate the king slowly passed weeping and bent with grief, and as he went he said, "O my son Absalom! my son, my son Absalom! Would God I had died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my son!" A poet's conception of David's great grief on hearing of the death of his son is portrayed in the following lines of N. P. Willis: Alas! my noble boy! that thou shouldst die! Thou, who wert made so beautifully fair! That Death should settle in thy glorious eye, And leave his stillness in thy clustering hair! How could he mark thee for the silent tomb? My proud boy, Absalom! Cold is thy brow, my son! and I am chill, As to my bosom I have tried to press thee How was I wont to feel my pulses thrill, Like a rich harp-string, yearning to caress thee, And hear thy sweet "MY FATHER!" from these dumb And cold lips, Absalom! But death is on thee. I shall hear the gush Of music, and the voices of the young; And life will pass me in the mantling blush, And the dark tresses to the soft winds flung; But thou no more, with thy sweet voice, shalt come To meet me, Absalom!