On the 16th of August we left Nâblus and moved the camp northwards to the village of Jeb’a. The district thus entered is very rich, the villages large and flourishing, with good stone houses in them, and the olives and corn very fine. It is called the “Eastern District of the Jerrâr,” from the name of a famous family of native chiefs, once the governors of all the hills from the Great Plain to Nâblus on the south. The Sheikh of the village at which we camped was one of this family, and we were treated by its members with much courtesy, although this politeness may not have been altogether disinterested. The village of Jeb’a was on the east of our camp, on a hillside, and well built of stone, with olives around it; on the north we looked across a narrow plain to Remeth of Issachar, and other ancient villages perched on heights; behind us the hills rose suddenly and stretched westwards in the long spur from Mount Ebal. East of Jeb’a stands the strong fortified village of Sânûr, on an isolated hill guarding the pass into a small plain, called the “Drowned Meadow,” which has no natural drainage, and thus becomes a marsh in the winter, drying up only in May or June. This fortified village has often been supposed identical with the Bethulia of the Book of Judith, a place which was near Dothan; but Sânûr does not fulfil one of the main requisites for the site, as it does not command a view of the Plain of Esdraelon. It is curious that the village of Mithilia, a little farther north, has been overlooked, the name of which approaches closely to that of Bethulia, whilst the plain is seen from the ridge near the village. The head of the house of the Jerrâr lived at Sânûr, his nephew was Sheikh of Jeb’a; the younger members of the family were innumerable, and we were plagued with endless visits from them all. The Jeb’a family invited us to dinner, and we were thus able to witness a phase in peasant life not often seen by Europeans. About six in the evening a man was sent to the camp to escort us, and we walked through the village to the highest house, that of the Sheikh. The inhabitants are wonderfully fine men, and used to be famous for their feuds with the men of ’Arrâbeh, some miles to the north; they are still redoubtable thieves, but in 1868 the Government came down on them after a riot, killed some thirty or forty, fined the village heavily, and took most of the young men for soldiers. The Sheikh’s house was well built and new; the reception-room, on an upper floor, had a raised daïs, with a low wooden rail, about six inches high, on the step. It was carpeted, and pillows arranged against the walls at the upper end in the corners, where we were requested to sit. The walls were covered with plaster very brown and cracked. A gallery for sleeping was built at the lower end of the room.