After a hurried lunch, eaten in the tent of an Arab, I prepare for,—­I know not what.  I put on my leggings and head-gear.  Then I give over my luggage, which consists of a suit-case, hand-grip, umbrella, and alpenstock, to Haleel.  I keep my overcoat, not because the weather is cold,—­it is hot,—­but because I think I may possibly need it as a kind of cushion for my saddle before the day is over.  The need was felt, and sorely felt quite early in the afternoon; but most of the time we rode too rapidly for my overcoat to supply the need,—­it just would not stay where I had hoped it might serve me well.  So it happened that I was destined to experience on that ride such misery as I had scarcely thought one could endure.  But, I anticipate.

We are ready.  I am anxious to be going.  I am delighted when my horse, a beauty, indeed, and of pure Arabian stock, is led up by two dusky sons of the desert.  Surely my long trip to Jerusalem will be one of pleasure when I am mounted on such a steed!  At half-past twelve o’clock we mount, and, facing to the south, we set off at a brisk pace for Gerasa, (known to the Arabs as Jerash,) where it has been planned that we shall spend the night.  Several of the natives accompany us a short distance on foot, one running on either side of my horse and holding to the bridle; but soon, with interesting and graceful salaams, they leave us to pursue our hot and dusty way alone.

There are just three of us, and we proceed in the following order:  my dragoman, who is guide and interpreter, leads the way; I follow next after him; bringing up the rear is our muleteer, who takes charge of all luggage, cares for the horses, and especially for,—­ me.  Why should I not be happy?  For the first time in my life I have two men engaged to look after my wants.  They did their duty well,—­were almost painfully attentive at times.  But to-day I thank them for their kind severity.

Not having spent more than a few hours on horse-back in the previous ten years, I found, after riding a few miles, that it required more than a beautiful horse to make riding comfortable to an inexperienced rider.  But our way led through such a beautiful valley, and on either hand were mountains so suggestive of Bible narrative that there was much in the earlier part of the afternoon to divert my attention from any physical discomfort.  Where we were riding there was no road,—­simply bridle-paths, and frequently not even a path.

After we had been riding for an hour a young Arab on camel-back joined us.  I did not like his searching looks from a face almost hidden in his head-garment.  But he stayed with us for a half-hour, and in that time had raced his camel with our horses; then he suddenly turned from us toward the near mountains of Gilead.  We met a number of caravans in the earlier part of the afternoon, and I noted that every man that I saw carried a gun, or some sort of sword, or large knife.  They were ready for defense, if occasion should arise.