It was among these hills and valleys that the Survey was extended during the months of July and August, 1872. The land was stony and colourless, dried up by the sun, the flowers long dead, and the glare from the white rock very trying; between the ledges the little owls stared out on us; the huge grey lizards lifted their tails like race-horses, scampering across the path, or nodding angrily behind a stone with a sort of mimicry of Moslem prayer-attitudes which causes them to be killed by the Mohammedans whenever caught. In the olive-groves the hoopoes were strutting with their crests lifted, on the rocks the gazelles now and then bounded past, or a stray jackal was to be seen gazing from a safe distance. Herds of black long-eared goats, tended by the ragged shepherd boys, roamed over the uncultivated hills; by the springs the little red cattle, scarcely larger than an English calf, were huddled in the shade, flipping off the flies; and processions of blue-robed women came down from the dust-coloured villages to fetch back water. The slabs of rock were slippery from the smooth feet of the great camels which came swinging along the highway, led by men on diminutive brown donkeys. All was grey and dusty under a sky of lead in the east wind, or deep blue when it came from the west. At the villages the corn was being threshed and winnowed with instruments as old as the time of Abraham, in their peculiarities of form. Palestine was in fact at its worst as far as picturesqueness is concerned; but all was novel and strange, and the interest had scarce time to subside before the fine changes of autumn set in. On one of our rides we visited the little village of Kuriet Jît, west of Nâblus, in which there was a very high house fitted for a point in the triangulation. It was generally better to choose a mountain-top, as the curiosity of the villagers is often annoying. They were, however, here unaccustomed to travellers, and behaved with the solemn courtesy which used to be distinctive of the peasantry before European vulgarity and European “backsheesh” had spoiled them. They stared hard at the theodolite, which was variously conjectured to be a watch, a compass, a telescope, or a combination of all three. At noon we retired into the room which is kept especially for chance guests in every village. Here we consumed breakfast, the Sheikh and elders sitting opposite to see us feed, and afterwards invited to share the remains with our native followers. The scene in colouring was almost equal to that of Rembrandt’s interiors, the bright light through the little door touching here and there the outlines of the swarthy figures in their mantles of tawny camel’s-hair, striped with darker brown. The Sheikh was glad of our escort back, as he was carrying the taxes to Nâblus. He inquired, as he rode with us, how soon the English were coming to take the country and “build it up again.” [Illustration: GUEST HOUSE, KURIET JIT.]