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Rh the minaret close by, so I rejoined my brother; and we retired, to allow our Moslem friends to enjoy their evening meal. I went several times afterward, to sketch from the minaret, and to see the women.

On Sunday morning, July 6th, I sat alone in the window seat of my home, on Mount Olivet, and watched the funeral of a Moslem woman. The procession issued from the St. Stephen's Gate. Some soldiers and other men carried the open bier. The body, covered with a sheet, was lying down flat, but the head was very much raised, and the face concealed by a mundîl. The open grave was close by the wayside. A number of men were grouped around it, and some women were watching from the slope above, wailing wildly, swaying their bodies to and fro, and throwing up their arms, as if pleading passionately. The clumsy bier was propped against a rock, and the dead body fell into an awkward sitting posture. Two men went down into the grave, and quite disappeared. The corpse was then removed from the bier, the sheet was taken off, and disclosed a figure just like an Egyptian mummy. It was handed, not very gently or reverently, to the men below, and then eight men held the sheet over the opening. After a minute or two the sheet was withdrawn, the men who had been covering up the body appeared above ground, and the grave was quickly closed. The crowd dispersed, and in a short time all was quiet again.

It was a very hot day, and I was quite alone, for I had been persuaded not to venture into the town to church. At about three o'clock, I saw a large body of irregular Turkish troops issuing from the St. Stephen's Gate. They rode in single file down into the valley, and then rose up the sides of Olivet, along the path toward the village  above. They all carried guns, and most of them had long spears. They were dressed with no attention to uniformity, but nearly every one wore a red and yellow silk kefia, or fringed shawl head-dress. I counted fifty-two in the first detachment, but others followed in small parties, took the road