There were nine sleeping tents, and each person had an iron bedstead with mattress, two linen sheets, one blanket, a white spread and one pillow with a case upon it; and every one of the tents was numbered. The number of ours was nine. All of the party seemed to have enjoyed the good, warm meal, and a little time was spent in talking of what had been seen during the day. But bedtime came and each one retired to his tent. After tying the baggage to our bedsteads, placing boots, shoes and clothing under our head and feet, we crawled into the little beds. Sleep overcame us, and in a little while we were in dreamland. My sleep was broken, for every movement outside of the tent caused my eyes to open wide, and much time was wasted in looking for the thieving Arab who never put in an appearance. Hyenas and jackals are numerous in that country, and during the nights they bark long and loud. Sometimes they seemed not very far from the camp. Very likely they would have ventured into camp; but a bright fire was kept burning, and seated around it were the watching servants. Early the next morning all hands were aroused by the rattling of tin pans which were in the hands of the servants. The banging noise was distressing to listen to, and we wished the pans were far enough away. Some were slow to rise, even with such deafening noise. But they soon learned that it was useless to even think of taking a second nap after the first banging of pans. Every morning from that on the deafening music was heard. Breakfast was always ready for us, and no time was wasted in waiting. Our meals were usually very good. There was tea, coffee, bread, butter, eggs and omelette,—composed of eggs, milk and salt. Condensed milk was used for coffee; the butter was canned too; it was never fresh, but always very soft. A little of it went a great ways. Indeed, many times it was left untouched by us. We did not tarry very long after breakfast on the camp ground, for our horses were saddled and the dragoman waiting to take the party to the Dead Sea and the Jordan. The modern village of Jericho was passed through, and not a house was to be seen; nothing but Bedouin Arab tents. You know Jesus passed through Jericho on his way to Jerusalem. There Zaccheus lived, and you remember he was small of stature. He wanted to see Jesus when he passed by, but the crowd was so great that there was no chance for him; so he ran ahead of the crowd and climbed up a tree, and there he could see all who passed. Our riding was usually done single file, for all through that country the roads are bad. The sun was extremely hot, and a nice shade would have been agreeable to all; but we could not choose the path, so we journeyed on and on. The people in that part of the country are not very thrifty,—more inclined to be lazy. They never plant trees, and I presume never think of gardening.