The view from the top of the principal tower is quite extensive; it is shut in on the north by the higher mountains, but is open at the south in the direction of the Valley of the Jordan. An opening in the mountains of Bashan reveals the Huleh morass, with patches of water, and the lake beyond it, while the chain of the mountains of Galilee closes the view. Farther down is the depression of the Sea of Galilee; and the spectator, whose imagination is easily set at work, can follow the tortuous course of the Jordan till he reaches its termination over the buried cities of the plain. From Banias to Damascus, direct, is a ride of twelve hours. It was thought to be too great an undertaking for the party to make the entire distance in a single day, and therefore they decided to camp at Artuz, which would shorten the journey to nine hours, and leave the remaining three hours for the next morning. It is a good plan to arrange one's journey so as to arrive in these Eastern cities early in the day, and not at night. There is a good deal in favor of a pleasant impression of a city, and certainly this is not to be had in the hours of darkness, and when you are thoroughly fatigued by a long ride. There was nothing of special interest on the route, with the exception of the spot where Paul was converted, as we read in the ninth chapter of the Acts of the Apostles. It is at the place where the traveller from Tiberias gets his first view of Damascus, with its domes and minarets rising from the fertile plain--dotted with villages set in rich orchards, and gardens watered by the Pharpar and Abana, flowing down from the mountains which guard them. The life-giving power of water is seen nowhere in all Syria to better advantage than from this point, and it is no wonder that Naaman exclaimed, "Are not Pharpar and Abana, rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel?" There was little sleep in the tent of Frank and Fred that night, as the youths were impatient to be in Damascus, the wonderful city of the East, about which they had read and dreamed, but until quite recently had never expected to see. Here they were at last, beneath the shadows of Hermon, the lofty ridge of Anti-Lebanon, and amid the gardens of Artuz, which are the promises of the richness of the plain before them. The desert and the mountains are behind them, while in front is one of the oldest existing cities of the world, and one that has been little changed during the centuries of its existence. As was Damascus two thousand years ago, so almost is the Damascus of to-day. It is no wonder that the youths were sleepless that night; nor that they rose before the dawn, that they might see the rays of the rising sun gilding the minarets of Damascus and spreading its effulgence over the fertile land. [Illustration: A STREET IN DAMASCUS.] CHAPTER XXXI. SIGHTS AND SCENES IN DAMASCUS.