Of paths one may make as many as one pleases in a country where no barbed wire and few walls prevent. The permanency of the old well-worn paths[[36]] is very noticeable, the best one always leading to a village or to a spring. There is such a thing as the tyranny of the path. It is very evident where railroads rule, and even in a country where the travel must be on the backs of animals, the little bridle-paths impose on one and, taking advantage of the inertia of human mentality, mark out one’s way with arbitrary exclusiveness. When one’s time is limited to just a sufficient number of days to allow one to see all the more notable places in the country, it is scarcely to be expected that one will sacrifice the surety of seeing a noted place for the chance of stumbling on a place of less popular interest. The paths and time required for seeing most places are almost as clearly indicated as any schedule of trips in countries possessed of time-tables. This accounts for the fact that, although thousands of travelers pass over the beaten paths, and scores of students go over the rarer paths, not one in the twenty or the thousand is likely to get off the paths.

One of the bits of country thus scantily known to foreigners is northern Judea, especially to the northwest of Jerusalem. Most travelers passing through it on the way to Jerusalem are in haste to reach the city, and once there, the fact that any place is a few hours farther distant than a day’s trip would allow forbids easy investigation.

One does not have to go far to reach the wilderness.[[37]] It is any uncultivated place. It is the pasture for flocks,[[38]] the wild of rocks and short, thorny bushes. The thorns[[39]] are gathered every other year to build fires in the lime-kilns, where the abundant lime-rock of the country is burned. When the men gather them for the lime-kilns the thorns are piled in great heaps with heavy stones on them to hold them down. When needed the heap is pierced with a long pole and carried over the shoulder as on a huge pitchfork. During the late winter and in spring only may one see green fields in anything like a Western sense. The Plain of el-Makhna presents a very lovely prospect from the height above it. Something like a small prairie effect is had in the Maritime and Esdraelon plains. Pasture privilege is commonly had anywhere if the land be not under actual cultivation. In the uplands the custom of leaving great tracts idle in alternate years[[40]] in lieu of dressing the ground permits wide pasturage. As the dry season advances the herdsmen seek the deep valleys with their flocks. There is little opportunity for new trees or shrubs to survive this universal browsing. So it comes about that, except where orchards are set out or scraps of ancient woods remain, trees are seldom seen.

A VINEYARD AT RÂM ALLÂH

Summer is the time of fierce heat, and yet through it all the grape-vines keep green and the luscious clusters grow larger and ripen under their heavy armor-plate of leaves. The peasants enjoy the tart taste of green fruit. Half-grown grapes are sometimes eaten with salt on them. Green almonds are eaten in the same way. Often it is hard to get ripe peaches, melons and other fruits because of the tendency of the peasants to pick them before they are ripe. But the time of the ripe grapes is the glad time of the year. Instead of saying “August” the peasants often use the expression “In grapes.” It is a season by itself to them. The vineyard owners build summer booths among the vines and sleep there through the season. In large vineyards it is common to employ a black man, perhaps a Moroccan, as a watcher. The Syrian peasant stands in peculiar awe of the black stranger. The watchers are provided with shotguns, for foxes and dogs like to eat grapes. All fruit must be guarded against thievishly disposed neighbors. One who knows his vineyard watches the progress of the choicest clusters, having covered some of them early to keep them from drying and to allow them to develop unplucked. Should any grapes be stolen he quickly notices the loss. He sets a thin row of fine stones along the top of his wall in such a way that a night marauder must necessarily rattle them down and thus awaken him. One of the heartless bits of meanness that a hostile peasant can perpetrate in order to pay a grudge is to cut the vine stocks of his enemy’s vineyard. Since it takes three years for a new vineyard to bear, such an act is a serious damage.

The finest grapes within reach of Jerusalem are those from Hebron and Râm Allâh. Large white clusters similar to the Malaga grapes are the favorites, though purple grapes are also grown. At Râm Allâh the vines lie flat on the ground. The vine is pruned back to leave three joints on every small branch that is spared in the rigorous treatment.[[41]] At Jifnâ the vines may be seen trained on stakes. At Zaḥleh, in the Lebanon, the growers have a way of propping up the main vine a few inches above the ground, so that a vineyard has the look of waves of green. In Jerusalem some of the grapes at the Greek Hospital and at the White Fathers’ near St. Stephen’s Gate are raised on arbors, and the clusters are covered with little bags. Thus protected the grapes ripen slowly and are enjoyed until late in the season. Vast quantities of fresh grapes are consumed as an article of daily food during August, September and October. The price, when cheap, is a cent a pound, and it gradually creeps up to the fancy price of six cents a pound late in the season. Grapes have been provided from the country vineyards as late as the first of December.

Trees need considerable soil, but the grape-vine will thrive with very little and will penetrate with its rootlets all the fissures of the lime-rock for yards about. Then, too, the luscious bunches lying on a pebbled ground do better than those on clear soil. Most of the grass and wild, weedy growth of the country is bulbous and clings in scanty soil, gathering as in a reservoir all the available moisture.

When the crop demands clear ground the native farmer piles the stones into walls, watch-towers or a huge heap in a less fertile spot of the field.[[42]] It is often a problem to find room for the waste stones. They may be tossed out into the roads and paths. A stranger says, “I don’t see why these people don’t clear these paths of stone; surely it would pay.” But the farmers prefer stones in the paths to stones in the garden patch. With their bare feet, or on their donkeys, they are able by a lifetime of practise to pick their way over such paths. Moreover, peasants are not nervous in Palestine. Stones always furnish a handy weapon,[[43]] or a reminder on the heels of a slow donkey. In going about through the country one often sees piles of little stones set up one on another. Sometimes these little piles are meant for scarecrows; sometimes they are used to mark a boundary; but there is a wider and more constant use for such loosely built little columns. They are set up in sight of holy spots. Apparently they are not only set up in the vicinity of shrines, wilys, etc., but also in places whence a distant view may be had of some holy place, as Jerusalem, which the natives call “el-Ḳuds esh-Sharîf” (The Noble Holy) or, for short, el-Ḳuds, which is practically equivalent to our expression “The Holy City.”[[44]] These little columnar piles may also be met in sight of the hill or mount called Neby Samwîl, which we usually identify with the Mizpeh of Samuel.[[45]]