generally speaking, all objects in the landscape are twice the distance and twice the size they actually appear. So now, on coming into view of the convent and its surroundings, in the valley below us, though these objects looked so close as to be only within two or three hundred yards off, they were all miniature representations, and so reduced in size that it seemed as though we were beholding a model of the reality. The effect was extremely pretty. We could see over the whole exterior of the building, with its high massive walls, loopholed turrets, and the church rising above the flat roof of the building. Behind were the fruitful gardens, with the neat vine-yards, beds of vegetables, and fruit trees, amongst which several tall cypresses rose high into the air. All this we could see as if so close that a few strides would place us in their midst; but it took us a good half hour to clamber down the cliff, and cross the slopes to the walls of the building, which is capable of affording accommodation for 200 inmates.
We remained three nights in the camp of the Wâdy es Sheikh. Never shall I forget the discomfort of these nights. I was attacked by a small insect,[1] almost invisible to the eye, which covered the body with little pimples of the most irritating kind, making sleep impossible, and life a burden. The warmth of the bed rendered these bites almost intolerable; and I had frequently to rise in order to sponge myself with cold water, or with diluted carbolic acid, which gave only temporary relief. For some time I could discover no cause for this irritation, but the insect was at length discovered by the dragoman.[1] Though loth to do so, I naturally attributed the presence of this insect to my Arab, whom I had allowed to ride on my camel while I was walking; and orders were issued that the camel drivers were not, for the future, to ride on the camels of the travellers. This gave much dissatisfaction, but the comfort of the travellers was considered of more importance than the convenience of the Arabs. Some time afterwards, when referring to the matter, I discovered who the real offender was. It appears that during the first night of our camping a vagabond Arab arrived, and, the nights being cold, he took possession of my camel-saddle, with which he wrapped himself round, and thus passed the night, no doubt, comfortably to himself. The legacy he left behind next morning was the insect. My Arab was therefore really not to blame, and he was naturally indignant when the dragoman hinted that he was the offender,
