As we were to sleep at Tantura, five hours distant, we were obliged to make a short visit, in spite of the invitation of the hospitable Fra Carlo to spend the night there.  In the afternoon we passed the ruins of Athlit, a town of the Middle Ages, and the Castel Pellegrino of the Crusaders.  Our road now followed the beach, nearly the whole distance to Jaffa, and was in many places, for leagues in extent, a solid layer of white, brown, purple and rosy shells, which cracked and rattled under our horses’ feet.  Tantura is a poor Arab village, and we had some difficulty in procuring provisions.  The people lived in small huts of mud and stones, near the sea.  The place had a thievish look, and we deemed it best to be careful in the disposal of our baggage for the night.

In the morning we took the coast again, riding over millions of shells.  A line of sandy hills, covered with thickets of myrtle and mastic, shut off the view of the plain and meadows between the sea and the hills of Samaria.  After three hours’ ride we saw the ruins of ancient Caesarea, near a small promontory.  The road turned away from the sea, and took the wild plain behind, which is completely overgrown with camomile, chrysanthemum and wild shrubs.  The ruins of the town are visible at a considerable distance along the coast.  The principal remains consist of a massive wall, flanked with pyramidal bastions at regular intervals, and with the traces of gateways, draw-bridges and towers.  It was formerly surrounded by a deep moat.  Within this space, which may be a quarter of a mile square, are a few fragments of buildings, and toward the sea, some high arches and masses of masonry.  The plain around abounds with traces of houses, streets, and court-yards.  Caesarea was one of the Roman colonies, but owed its prosperity principally to Herod.  St. Paul passed through it on his way from Macedon to Jerusalem, by the very road we were travelling.

During the day the path struck inland over a vast rolling plain, covered with sage, lavender and other sweet-smelling shrubs, and tenanted by herds of gazelles and flocks of large storks.  As we advanced further, the landscape became singularly beautiful.  It was a broad, shallow valley, swelling away towards the east into low, rolling hills, far back of which rose the blue line of the mountains—­the hill-country of Judea.  The soil, where it was ploughed, was the richest vegetable loam.  Where it lay fallow it was entirely hidden by a bed of grass and camomile.  Here and there great herds of sheep and goats browsed on the herbage.  There was a quiet pastoral air about the landscape, a soft serenity in its forms and colors, as if the Hebrew patriarchs still made it their abode.  The district is famous for robbers, and we kept our arms in readiness, never suffering the baggage to be out of our sight.