The name of no other river is known so far away as that of the Jordan. And why should not Christians of all ages love to read and talk about it? Thousands of Christians all over the world, and of every nation, have made pilgrimages to Palestine expressly to stand on the banks of the river, or, better yet, to bathe in its waters. It was enough for us to stand on its banks, to see the trees in full leaf, and to sit upon the beautiful green grass and partake of the good things of earth. [Illustration: _River Jordan._] The picture which you see is a good representation of the river, and unless you view the stream itself you will never see a more perfect picture. We left the banks of the sacred stream after luncheon and rode back to our camp at Jericho. While riding along the Arab guards entertained us by showing how wonderfully well they managed their horses. A motion of the hand gave the horse to understand that a circle was to be made, and with surprise we watched them make it. The horse and rider understood each other well. Our dragoman joined in the ride, and it seemed an easy matter for him to outride his Arab friends. He had a swift-footed Arabian horse, and at times it seemed that its feet scarcely touched the grass as it moved along. A gentleman of our party joined the ride, and it was plain to see that he was not used to managing a horse as well as the rest. When near a small village women were seen carrying upon their heads great stacks of wood and brush. What drudges! we thought; and while watching them walk along we wondered whether the poor creatures ever became discouraged with their lot, whether they would be willing to exchange the life of drudgery for one of comfort and ease if a way were opened to them. Down deep in my heart I felt wonderfully blessed in being allowed to live in a land where women are on an equality with men and not beneath them, as is the case in Palestine.