We marched the whole night of the 10th over a plain country, and reached early the next morning Hamsin, a village situated at nine hours march from Antakia, on the right bank of the Orontes. We passed the river in a ferry boat: its banks on both sides are about forty feet high at this place; its breadth is near fifty yards, the depth no where more than five feet. On a little eminence a few hundred paces from the ground on the river’s side where we encamped, rises a spring of excellent water; my companions however, drank of the muddy water of the Orontes, in preference to taking the trouble of filling their flasks at the spring. One of the merchants had a tent with him, under the shade of which we passed the whole day. In the evening the village youths kindled a large fire, and amused themselves with music and dancing. The next day we passed a chain of calcareous mountains planted here and there with olives; on the top of one of these mountains lives a custom-house officer, who exacted a toll from each individual, as it was said, in the name of the Grand Signior. The descent on the eastern side is steep, but the mules walked with the greatest firmness. In the valley into which we descended lies the town of Ermenaz (ارمناز,) watered by several streams. Though small, it is one of the best towns in this part of Syria; its gardens are cultivated with great care, and its inhabitants are industrious, because they are out of the immediate reach of rapacious Pashas and Janisaries. They work a glass manufacture which supplies Aleppo. The olives of the country round Aleppo are, next to those of Tripoly, the best in Syria: its grapes are likewise much esteemed. As we rode by, I saw lying on the right hand side of the road near the town, a broken ancient column of about four feet in diameter, and I was told afterwards in Aleppo, that many like remains of antiquity are to be met with in the neighbourhood of Ermenaz. At half an hour’s distance from this latter place we again began to mount, and the path became difficult and tiresome for the beasts, from the number of detached rocks with which it is overspread. After nearly eight hours march (meaning the whole day’s work), we descended into the eastern plain of Syria, and encamped at the foot of the mountains, round a large tree in the vicinity of a copious spring. Whenever the beasts were unloaden, it was with much difficulty that I could prevent my luggage from being thrown upon the ground. The caravan people in this country, and I should suppose every where else in the East, are accustomed to loads of bales of goods, which do not receive any injury from letting them fall to the ground. The loads on each side of the beast are tied together over its back, by a cord. Arrived at the halting place, the first thing the muleteer does, is to go from mule to mule to unloosen that cord; the loads then fall to the ground. This mode of unloading, and the great carelessness of these