Two points required to be made clear as to the episode of David’s battle with Goliath; one was the meaning of the expression Gai or “ravine;” the other was the source whence David took the “smooth stones.” A visit to the spot explains both. In the middle of the broad open valley we found a deep trench with vertical sides, impassable except at certain places--a valley in a valley, and a natural barrier between the two hosts; the sides and bed of this trench are strewn with rounded and water-worn pebbles, which would have been well fitted for David’s sling. Here, then, we may picture to ourselves the two hosts, covering the low rocky hills opposite to each other, and half hidden among the lentisk bushes; between them was the rich expanse of ripening barley and the red banks of the torrent with its white shingly bed; behind all were the distant blue hill-walls of Judah, whence Saul had just come down. The mail-clad champion advanced from the west, through the low corn, with his mighty lance perhaps tufted with feathers, his brazen helmet shining in the sun; from the east, a ruddy boy, in his white shirt and sandals, armed with a goat’s-hair sling, came down to the brook, and, according to the poetic fancy of the Rabbis, the pebbles were given voices, and cried: “By us shall thou overcome the giant.” The champion fell from an unseen cause, and the wild Philistines fled to the mouth of the valley, where Gath stood towering on its white chalk cliff, a frontier fortress, the key to the high-road leading to the corn-lands of Judah, and to the vineyards of Hebron. The Survey work round Beit Jibrîn was unusually heavy, for, on an average, three or four ruined sites were found to every two square miles, and the number of names was very large. The storms also interrupted us, and thus it was only on the 1st of April, or three weeks from the date of our arrival in the district, that we could move on. The spring flowers, including the delicate cyclamens, were now in full bloom, the hoopoes and storks had arrived, and Palestine was at its best. The work had extended over 180 square miles in the three weeks, and 424 names, only 50 of which were previously known, had been collected, including more than 200 ruins. There was always some difficulty in ascertaining names; suspicion, ignorance and fanatical feeling were against us, but we here found a new difficulty, for the peasantry were convinced that the Franks knew the old names better than they did themselves. One guide, pointing out the ruin of Horân, said that the real name was Korân. I asked why, and he answered that a European had told him. Thus, also, at Kefr Saba we were told that the Frank name was Antifatrûs; and at Adullam one man refused to tell me the name of the place, saying that the Franks knew it best.