Ameen was evidently a treasure (and such he afterwards proved himself to be), and must be secured, so we plunged at once into business, and for the next half-hour discussed routes and other minutiæ. The bargain was concluded by Ameen agreeing to take us for a four days' trip to Jericho, and a five or seven days' trip to Tiberias. The charges were to be a pound a day each. He was to provide everything, including good horses, and saddles, a muleteer, and when necessary an armed escort, which a thoughtful government--with an eye to _backsheesh_--insisted upon, lest the confiding traveller should fall among thieves. As the escort was invariably chosen from a tribe of raiders, the moral was obvious. We considered these terms very moderate for this time of the year, especially so, as the party was to consist only of Elizabeth and myself. We further stipulated for the horses and saddles to be brought round for our inspection the evening before we started on our journey. Everything being now satisfactorily settled, we partook of coffee, said good-bye to the little wife, kissed the baby, who resented deeply the familiarity, and, preceded by our picturesque guide, who had already assumed an air of proprietorship, made our way into the city, where we dismissed him and continued our prowl unattended. On one of our excursions we took part in an adventure which might have ended seriously to one of the party. Looking back now, it seems like a modern version of the story of the Good Samaritan. It was a hot afternoon in April when Elizabeth and I, accompanied by Elias, Miss K.'s native servant, carrying a tea-basket, set out for Neby Samwîl, the ancient Mizpeh, where we intended picnicking. As we were riding slowly down the hill in the direction of Jerusalem, we noticed afar off an unusual cloud of dust, out of which there presently emerged a horseman riding furiously. Almost before we could exclaim he had turned the sharp corner by the Pool of Hinnom and was tearing madly on towards us. In another moment the horse wheeled suddenly round and, flinging its rider to the earth, galloped back to the city gate. We reined up near the unfortunate man, who lay stretched out unconscious in the middle of the road, a tropical sun beating fiercely on his uncovered head, and the blood slowly trickling from a nasty wound in the temple. In an incredibly short space of time a crowd collected. White-sheeted women, like flocks of seagulls, scudded down the hill slopes, and were joined by dark-faced men, who seemed to spring from nowhere. They stared with much curiosity at the little group below, but neither signs nor talking could induce them to approach nearer than the stone wall which bounded the road. They answered our appeals by jabbering among themselves like so many monkeys, pointing at us and gesticulating excitedly. Clearly we were each unintelligible to the other.