[Illustration: At the Tomb of Lazarus there are always natives waiting to be photographed—for _backsheesh_] [Illustration: His back hurts him, and he is rubbing it against the healing stone on the way to Jordan, believing this will work a cure] A little farther on I stopped for a bottle of ginger pop and a cracker at the Good Samaritan Inn, which stands on the traditional site where lay the man who fell among thieves when the priest and the Levite passed him by on the other side. It is right on the road about half way between Jerusalem and Jericho. There was a crowd in the inn while I waited, among them a Syrian peasant who had been robbed by a party of Bedouins. The man was covered with wounds, and was crying and sobbing as he told how he had been attacked and robbed of the money which he had just received from the sale of some sheep. Much of this country is unsafe, and no one who has money dares travel alone. All the way to the Jordan I met little caravans on their way to Jerusalem. In every party there were some men with guns on their backs. The guns were often old-fashioned flintlock muskets. I passed some donkey trains taking bags of charcoal from beyond the Jordan, and a caravan of camels each of which bore two great bags of wheat slung over his back. The drivers of both donkeys and camels were armed. They had come from the land of Moab, and were now going up through Judea. Before starting on my way to the Jordan I spent several hours on the Mount of Olives. This mountain is two hundred feet higher than the hills upon which Jerusalem stands. It is directly opposite the city, being separated from it by the Valley of Jehoshaphat or Kedron, and it can be easily reached. There are good roads up the Mount of Olives, and one can now ride to most of the holy places. With the prosperity which is coming to Palestine the Mount of Olives is rapidly changing. Its slopes are cultivated, the rocks are being picked up and laid in stone fences, and the cleared spots planted to crops and to orchards. There were many olive orchards on this mount in the days of the Saviour, who came here frequently to get away from the crowds of the city. The soil seems fertile, and the crops upon the mountain grow luxuriantly. There are green patches of wheat, barley, and oats, while here and there are carob trees, with pods like those which furnished the food for the prodigal son when he ate with the swine.