There are two sorry-looking fig-trees in the grounds, the fruit of which is said to be free to all comers. Here and there in the country these traditionally free fruit-trees are seen. I remember one on the valley road to Bayt ‛Ur et-Taḥtâ. The whole property, otherwise, is _ḥarâm_, that is, sacrosanct. The dwellers in Palestine have a very vivid sense of that ecclesiastical or religious quality that attaches to a place once acknowledged as devoted to religious purposes. Despite all encroachments, persecutions of hostile governments or religions, the mind of the people persists in returning again and again to the subject of the sacred nature of any such spot, and this obstinate tradition sooner or later gets that piece of property back under the care of the church. The Râm Allâh people tell a story which illustrates how the _powers_ assist in preserving devoted things. “One day a man was digging in the ground when his pickaxe (_fass_) struck against the lid of a copper vessel (ṭunjereh) containing treasure,[202] but as he began to clear away the soil so as to come at the find, his hands became, as it were, bound together with cords and his feet were likewise powerless.” ----- ----- Out beyond the enclosing walls of the Greek property are fine olive-trees and many heaps of old building stone, with other evidences of a former habitation of men. The land and olives west of the Ṣalâ‛t eṭ-Ṭîreh are owned by a well-to-do Râm Allâh family, Dâr Abu Firmand. The view of Râm Allâh from this place is very good, impressing one with the fact that it is indeed situated on a rise of ground, which effect one does not get in coming to it from the higher ground to the south and east of the village. A vague story is told of a former prosperous settlement of Christians at eṭ-Ṭîreh and of their massacre.