For about an hour and a half we rode through an enormous waste covered with trailing weeds, towards the verdant banks of the Jordan, which are known from a distance by the beautiful blooming green of the meadows that surround it.  We halted in the so-called “Jordan-vale,” where our Saviour was baptised by St. John.

The water of the Jordan is of a dingy clay-colour; its course is very rapid.  The breadth of this stream can scarcely exceed twenty-five feet, but its depth is said to be considerable.  The moment our Arab companions reached the bank, they flung themselves, heated as they were, into the river.  Most of the gentlemen followed their example, but less precipitately.  I was fain to be content with washing my face, hands, and feet.  We all drank to our hearts’ content, for it was long since we had obtained water so cool and fresh.  I filled several tin bottles, which I had brought with me for this purpose from Jerusalem, with water from the Jordan, and had them soldered down on my return to the Holy City.  This is the only method with which I am acquainted for conveying water to the farthest countries without its turning putrid.

We halted for a few hours beneath the shady trees, and then pursued our journey across the plain.  Suddenly a disturbance arose among our Arab protectors; they spoke very anxiously with one another, and continually pointed to some distant object.  On inquiring the reason why they were so disturbed, we were told that they saw robbers.  We strained our eyes in vain; even with the help of good spy-glasses we could discover nothing, and already began to suspect our escort of having cried “wolf” without reason, or merely to convince us that we had not taken them with us for nothing.  But in about a quarter of an hour we could dimly discern figures emerging, one by one, from the far, far distance.  Our Bedouins prepared for the combat, and advised us to take the opposite road while they advanced to encounter the enemy.  But all the gentlemen wished to take part in the expedition, and joined the Bedouins, lusting for battle.  The whole cavalcade rode off at a rapid pace, leaving Count Berchtold and myself behind.  But when our steeds saw their companions galloping off in such fiery style, they scorned to remain idly behind, and without consulting our inclinations in the least, they ran of at a pace which fairly took away our breath.  The more we attempted to restrain their headlong course, the more rapidly did they pursue their career, so that there appeared every prospect of our becoming the first, instead of the last, among the company.  But when the enemy saw such a determined troop advancing to oppose them, they hurried off without awaiting our onset, and left us masters of the field.  So we returned in triumph to our old course; when suddenly a wild boar, with its hopeful family, rushed across our path.  Away we all went in chase of the poor animals.  Count Wratislaw succeeded in cutting down one of the young ones with his sabre, and it was solemnly delivered up to the cook.  No further obstacles opposed themselves to our march, and we reached our resting-place for the night without adventure of any kind.