I then went to see the market, which is held every Thursday on the open ground at the east side of the castle, close to the northern edge of the ridge. Though much better supplied than that near Kasr Jebel, it was yet extremely poor; only a single camel was offered for sale. This results from the mistrust of the inhabitants, who, in bringing their produce to the great market at Tripoli, are less exposed to vexations than here. When taking leave of the Kaimakám, we found the whole castle beset by litigants. I saw in the company of the governor the chief of the Haj caravan, the Sheikh el Rakeb, of whose grand entrance into the town I had been witness. The aghá, wanting to show us their little paradise, accompanied us into the Wady Rummána, which, in a direction from south-east to north-west, winds along the southern foot of the ridge on which the castle is situated. Though it looks rather wild and neglected, it is a charming retreat for the leisure hours of a governor of a place like this. It is irrigated by a very powerful spring issuing from the limestone rock in a channel widened by art, and then dividing into several little rills, which are directed over the terraces of the slope. These, of course, have been raised by art, and are laid out in orchards, which, besides the pomegranates which have given their name to the valley, produce sferéj (sfarájel)—the Malum Cydonium—of an excellent quality, figs, grapes, and almonds. A path, practicable even for horses, leads down from the castle to the spring. Before I left this charming spot, I made a sketch of the valley, with the castle on the cliffs. CHAPTER III. FERTILE MOUNTAIN REGION RICH IN ANCIENT REMAINS. It was past three in the afternoon of Thursday, February 14th, when we started from the dwelling of our host, in order to pursue our route in a south-easterly direction. We were agreeably surprised to see fine vineyards at the village called Jelíli; but the cultivation of olive-trees seemed almost to cease here, while the country became quite open, and afforded an unbounded prospect towards the distant southern range, with its peaks, depressions, and steep slopes. But the fine olive-groves of Sgáif proved that we had not yet reached the limit of this useful tree. We were just about to descend the slope into the broad valley called Wady Rán, when, seeing darkness approaching, and frightened by the black clouds rising from the valley, together with a very chilly stream of air, we began to look seriously about for some secure shelter for the night. To our right we had a pleasant little hollow with olive-trees; but that would not suffice in such weather as was apparently approaching, and we therefore descended a little along the cliffs on our left, where our shoush knew that there were caverns called Merwán. Scarcely had we pitched our tent on the little terrace in front of these, when the rain began to pour down, and, accompanied with snow, continued the whole night.