The Arabs preserve the pedigree of their horses with great care, and for several ages back. They distinguish the races by different names, and divide them into three classes; the first is that of the nobles, the ancient breed, and unadulterated on either side; the second, that of the horses of the ancient race, but adulterated; and the third the common and inferior kind: the last they sell at a low price, but those of the first class, and even of the second, amongst which are found horses of equal value to the former, are sold extremely dear. They know, by long experience, the race of a horse by his appearance; they can tell the name, the surname, the colour, and the marks properly belonging to each. When the mare has produced the foal, witnesses are called, and an attestation signed, in which are described the marks of the foal, and the day noted when it was brought forth. These attestations increase the value of the horse, and are given to the person who buys him. The most ordinary mare of this race sells for five hundred crowns; there are many that sell for a thousand, and some of the very finest kinds for fourteen or fifteen hundred pounds. * * * * * Eighty or one hundred piastres are given for an ordinary horse, which is in general less valued than an ass or mule; but a horse of a well known Arabian breed will fetch any price. Abdallah, pacha of Damascus, had just given three thousand piastres for one. The history of a horse is frequently the topic of general conversation. When I was at Jerusalem, the feats of one of these steeds made a great noise. The Bedouin, to whom the animal, a mare, belonged, being pursued by the governor’s guards, rushed with her from the top of the hills that overlooked Jericho. The mare scoured at full gallop an almost perpendicular declivity without stumbling, and left the soldiers lost in admiration and astonishment. The poor creature, however, dropped down dead on entering Jericho, and the Bedouin, who would not quit her, was taken weeping over the body of his companion. This mare has a brother in the desert, who is so famous, that the Arabs always know where he has been, where he is, what he is doing, and how he does. Ali Aga religiously showed me, in the mountains near Jericho, the footsteps of the mare that died in the attempt to save her master,—a Macedonian could not have beheld those of Bucephalus with greater respect. * * * * *