an ancient city and fortress, which appeared to us to be Roman. We made our way through a wild shrubbery, formed chiefly of ilex, arbutus, hawthorns, and rue. Now and then from the rising ground we had a wide view of the sea, which was as yet only partially illuminated by the sun. Lines of light traversed its smooth surface, gleaming through the openings and breaks in the cliffs.
We had reached the melon-growing district, and a lively picture of Arab life was before us. Up to the very edge of the cliffs, all along the coast as far as we could see, there were beds of various kinds of melons; and groups of dusky peasants, in white shirts and white turbans, were busily engaged gathering them, counting them, and building them up in pyramids. Hundreds of camels were there too, some walking away well laden, others kneeling down patiently, while their panniers were being filled with the bulky fruit. We passed several mud-built villages. White tents were pitched in the midst of the gardens—I was told that they were the tents of the tax-gatherers, who had come to claim the tribute on the melon harvest.
We alighted in the midst of these scenes, near to the flourishing village of Um Khalîd. It was half-past seven. We rested for a little while under a large solitary tree. Looking westward, we could see a broad strip of the now sunlit Mediterranean beyond the melon-gardens, which are by no means picturesque. The large rough melon-leaves lie flat on the level ground, which looks as if it were strewed with great green and yellow marbles, fit for giants to play with. There were no hedges or trees to break the monotony of the view, but the busy laborers gave life to it. The plots of ground are divided by furrowed lines, where thorns and thistles flourished. I sketched the scene for the sake of its singularity and simplicity. We wished to buy a few melons, but the overseer of the laborers told us that we might take as many as we liked, but he could not sell them except by hundreds. After a refreshing rest, we remounted and rode through miles and miles of melon-ground. Wher-
