It passed under rocks and between rocks to the very brink of the precipice as it descended towards the bridge that spanned the brook some hundreds of feet lower down. Already our asses scent a stable, Jesus said; he called after them to stop, and the obedient animals stopped and began to seek among the stones for a tuft of grass or a bramble. I see no place here for a hermitage, Joseph said, only roosts for choughs and crows. There have been hermits here always, Jesus answered. We shall pass the ruins of ancient hermitages farther down on this side above the bridge. The bridge was built by hermits who came from India, Jesus said. And was destroyed, Joseph interjected, by the Romans, so that they might capture the robbers that infested the caves. But the Essenes must have repaired the bridge lately, Jesus replied, and he asked Joseph how long the Essenes had been at the Brook Kerith. My camel-driver did not say, Joseph answered, and Jesus pointed to the ledge that the Essenes must have chosen for a dwelling: it cannot be else, he said; there is no other ledge large enough to build upon in the ravine; and behind the ledge thou seest up yonder is the large cave whither the ravens came to feed Elijah. If the brethren are anywhere they are on that ledge, in that cave, and he asked Joseph if his eyes could not follow the building of a balcony: thine eyes cannot fail to see it, for it is plain to mine. Joseph said he thought he could discern the balcony. But how do we reach it? We aren't angels, he said. We shall ascend, Jesus answered, by a path going back and forth, through many terraces. Lead on, Joseph answered. But stay, let us admire the bridge they have built and the pepper-trees that border it. I am glad the Romans spared the trees, for men that live in this solitude deserve the beauty of these pepper-trees. Jesus said: yonder is the path leading to the source of the brook; fledged at this season with green reeds and rushes. They have built a mill I see! turned by the brook and fed, no doubt, by the wheat thy camels bring from Moab. But the Essenes seem late at work this morning. As he spoke these words an old man appeared on the balcony, and Joseph said: that must be Hazael, but his beard has gone very white. It is Hazael, our president, Jesus answered. Let us go to him at once, and still driving the asses in front of them and carrying the puppies in their arms they worked their way up through the many terraces; not one is more than three feet wide, yet in every one are fig-trees, Jesus remarked, and there seem to be vines everywhere, for though the Essenes drink no wine, they sell their grapes to be eaten or to be turned into wine, Joseph. Our rule is not to kill, but we sell our sheep, and alas! some go to the Temple and are offered in sacrifice. I used to weep for my sheep, he muttered, but in this world----