on the ground, and, what was more curious,
several pieces of glass.

Masada was the last of the fortresses of
Judæa to withstand the arms of Rome. Its
naturally strong position had been lately
rendered almost impregnable by Herod the Great,
when, after the destruction of Jerusalem, it
was attacked by Silva, the imperial general.
At first repulse followed repulse; even the
flames he destined to destroy the works of
the besieged, consumed the engines of the
besieger. At length an adverse wind arose,
and the defences were burnt. For that day
the Romans withdrew, and the garrison knew
that on the morrow they would have to yield
to a terrible fate. They determined that it
should not be at the hands of their merciless
conquerors. Their number was reduced to
about one thousand, including women and
children. First they collected their treasure,
and set it on fire, and then the men plunged
their daggers into the breasts of their wives
and families. Ten of the garrison were now
selected by lot to despatch the rest, and when
this horrible carnage was complete, one of the
survivors was similarly chosen, who first slew
his nine comrades, and then fell on his own
sword.

As we stood on the brink of the precipice to
the east, 1300 feet* above the level of the lake,
the walls and forts of two Roman camps on the
plain below were very evident, while on the
heights to the west the line of the wall of
circumvallation was also visible. It is impossible
for any pen to do justice to the magnificence of
the view. To the far north the eye could distinguish
the dark green thread which marks the
course of the Jordan through the plains of
Jericho; while the sandy district to the south of
the lake was equally clear. In fact, the whole of the
Dead Sea, and its peninsula, bounded by walls
of burning rock, and glaring under the rays of an
Eastern sun, lay stretched as a panorama below.
As we sat and gazed on this splendid scene of
desolation we noticed an ibex, one of the wild
goats of Scripture, which frequent this wilderness.†
For a moment the graceful creature
stood and looked at us; but one of the Bedouin
raised his gun, and the next instant the animal
was bounding down the sides of the frightful
precipice to the plain beneath. The ibex is hunted
on the plains of Damascus with the assistance of
falcons. These birds are trained to alight on
the creature's horns, and to flap their wings
before its eyes till it is so bewildered as to be
easily overtaken.

* The summit of the cliff of Masada is about on
a level with the Mediterranean.
† "Ain Jidy" signifies the "Fountain of the
kid."

The sun had passed the zenith for many hours
ere we regained our horses; the heat was more
oppressive than ever, and we longed for the
shelter of the slowly approaching shadows from
the mountains on the west. Happily we had
found water for ourselves at Sebbeh; but the
animals had had none since the robbery on the
previous day. For two and a half hours we
crossed masses of clay, chalk, and gravel,
intersected as before by deep wadys. Thus we
reached the coast where the mountains approach
the lake. Here is the Birket el-Khûlîl (Abraham's
Pool), which has been said to afford a
specimen of the old slime-pits of Sodom. It
is a mere depression of the ground, covered,
when we saw it, with an incrustation of salt.
Beyond this, the coast became very narrow, and
is strewed, as usual, with large quantities of
drift-wood. For three or four miles northward
the stench of sulphur is overpowering, reminding
one of the pestilential miasma which arises,
from the brook crossing the Campagna of Rome,
immediately below Tivoli. During the course
of the afternoon we observed, what has often
been mentioned, the glassy smoothness of the
surface of the lake. The cause of this extraordinary
stillness is in all probability the great
specific gravity of the water, which renders it
less liable to be ruffled by every current of air.
No mirror could have reflected the outline of
the Moab mountains more sharply than did the
waters of the sea. Nor could we wonder that
the changing tints of that frowning range at
the hour of sunset should have formed a subject
of especial study to an eminent artist of modern
times. The north of the peninsula had long
been passed, and we were rapidly approaching
Ain Jidy, when we observed a well-defined bank,
some eight or ten feet above the level of the
sea, along which we were glad to ride. It was
as firm and compact a mass of gravel as any
carriage-drive in England.

Before leaving the coast, we bathed and found
the temperature of the water 75 deg. Fahrenheit.
A curious circumstance was noticed here—the
existence of a current running in a northerly
direction along the shore; we had only to throw
ourselves on the surface of the sea to be carried
sensibly along. It is not improbable that the
stream is a backwater caused by the influx of
the Jordan.

It was dark before the loiterers of the party
commenced the steep ascent to the grove. The
moon was shining, and added considerably to
the wild aspect of the rocks. In about twenty
minutes a thicket of tropical-looking trees was
reached, amongst whose shades swarmed
countless fire-flies. Here were our tents, and,
what was still more delightful, a warm brook also,
which rippled through the encampment. Horses
and men alike plunged in. The prolonged
drought rendered it indescribably charming. It
is on such occasions as these, when travelling
in the East, that the imagery to which we have
been accustomed from childhood is realised in,
all its force. Henceforth the priceless value of
"streams in the desert" will be a sentiment
appreciated by us all. Those of our companions
who had already arrived were found calmly
seated in the stream luxuriating in its benignant
effects, and affording a spectacle which at other
times would have been as irresistibly absurd as
it was now inviting. We found a few Bedouin