"The guide repeatedly called our attention to places of scriptural or other interest. We tried to look at them, but I fear we were more concerned about the weather than with what lay around us. But we remember among other things that the route from Jerusalem to Jericho has the same character now that it had eighteen centuries ago, and we had an escort to protect us from falling among thieves. We halted a few minutes at the ruined khan which is said to be the site of the inn to which the good Samaritan carried the wounded and plundered traveller whom he found by the way-side.
"The guide told us that a few years ago an English traveller was robbed by the Arabs at this very spot, and the scriptural description will exactly cover his case: 'They stripped him of his raiment, and wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead.'
THE VILLAGE OF BETHANY.
"Our road was steadily upward, as Jerusalem is nearly three thousand seven hundred feet higher than the Dead Sea, and we were not far above the level of that body of water when we started from Jericho. At several points we were on the old road built by the Romans; we went by Bethany, which we did not stop to look at, and wound around the Mount of Olives, and down through the Valley of the Brook Kedron, which we crossed near Gethsemane. Then we entered Jerusalem by the Gate of the Tribes, and rode along the nearly deserted streets to the door of the hotel.
"We were all so benumbed and stiff with the cold that we needed assistance to descend from our horses, and we could not keep our steps straight as we entered the building. A good fire and a hot dinner brought us to ourselves again, and we laughed over our troubles and began to think they did not amount to much, after all.
"It is very unpleasant to be soaked with rain and chilled with the cold, but somehow when you get dry and warm again you don't feel so badly. We shall forget all about the storm and its disagreeable features, but we'll remember the Dead Sea, the Valley of the Jordan, the site of Jericho, Bethany, the inn of the good Samaritan, and a dozen other historic things we have seen since we left our camp at Mar Saba and descended into the deepest valley in the world. Anyway we'll try to forget the storm, but I can't help shuddering just a little when I think of it—it was so cold, and the rain was so wet!
"The rain and snow are still falling as I write in my journal in the public room of the hotel at Jerusalem. We've sent our clothes to the kitchen to be dried, and we're dressed in such things as we've been able to borrow in the house, and a funny-looking group we are. The Doctor has put on a coat much too short in the sleeves, and says he feels as though he had gone into a ready-made clothing store and been served with the first garment that came to hand. Fred is nicely gotten up in an Arab costume, fez and all; he's trying to speak the language, but isn't very successful. I'm in part of a suit belonging to one of the gentlemen of the Palestine Exploration Fund, who happens to be stopping here; but the most conspicuous garment of my wardrobe is a large blanket, with the word 'Tigre' on the outside in big letters. It once belonged to the French steamer of that name, and was left here by a traveller; I may be placarded as a tiger while wearing this blanket, but feel very far from what that beast is supposed to be."