ead the rugs for our
noontide rest by the ruined south gate of the city. At our feet lies the
wide, level, green valley where the mighty host of Ben-hadad, King of
Damascus, once besieged the starving city and waited for its surrender.
(II Kings vii.) There in the twilight of long ago a panic terror
whispered through the camp, and the Syrians rose and fled, leaving their
tents and their gear behind them. And there four nameless lepers of
Israel, wandering in their despair, found the vast encampment deserted,
and entered in, and ate and drank, and picked up gold and silver, until
their conscience smote them. Then they climbed up to this gate with the
good news that the enemy had vanished, and the city was saved.

IV

DOTHAN AND THE GOODNESS OF THE SAMARITAN

Over the steep mountains that fence Samaria to the north, down through
terraced vales abloom with hawthorns and blood-red poppies, across
hill-circled plains where the long, silvery wind-waves roll over the sea
of grain from shore to shore, past little gray towns sleeping on the
sunny heights, by paths that lead us near flowing springs where the
village girls fill their pitchers, and down stony slopes where the
goatherds in bright-coloured raiment tend their flocks, and over broad,
moist fields where the path has been obliterated by the plough, and
around the edge of marshes where the storks rise heavily on long
flapping wings, we come galloping at sunset to our camp beside the
little green hill of Dothan.

Behind it are the mountains, swelling and softly rounded like breasts.
It was among them that the servant of Elisha saw the vision of horses
and chariots of fire protecting his master. (II Kings vi: 14-19.)

North and east of Dothan the plain extends smooth and gently sloping,
full of young harvest. There the chariot of Naaman rolled when he came
down from Damascus to be healed by the prophet of Israel. (II Kings v:
9.)

On top of the hill is a spreading terebinth-tree, with some traces of
excavation and rude ruins beneath it. There Joseph's envious brethren
cast him into one of the dry pits, from which they drew him up again to
sell him to a caravan of merchants, winding across the plain on their
way from Midian into Egypt. (Genesis xxxvii.)

Truly, many and wonderful things came to pass of old around this little
green hill. And now, at the foot of it, there is a well-watered garden,
with figs, oranges, almonds, vines, and tall, trembling poplars,
surr