Atlit

About one hour's riding, the Sheikh and myself hurried on in order to mark out a proper spot for our encampment.

Atlit, the place to which we were going, had been in sight from the time we quitted Tontura.

When we were within about a mile of it, the road became still more picturesque.

On our left was a vast pool of water, about which were flocks of storks.

Before us, on a promontory jutting into the sea, were the ruins of the castle of Atlit, the Castel Pellegrino of the Venetians, and, on the right, lofty mountains which crowned the whole view with their majestic appearance.

We arrived at the walls of the place and entering by the south gate crossed a bare space, the site of the ancient city, but now entirely covered with turf and mold.

Then passing to the northwest angle, we ascended for a few yards a road both rough and uneven and strewed with hewn stones of a vast size.

Accordingly, on the arrival of the camels, Lady Hester having stopped, as usual, on the road, the tents were pitched and everything was made comfortable for the night.