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[Page 47]

the streams and waddies might be arteries with networks of veins. Long since, traffic on the road has converted itself into mote like specks and still we climb heavenward. Almost before one realises - the flat plain is gone, and the country looks rough and broken. From our great height it appears as if some mighty thumb had pressed the earth and impressed it with its markings. These are the characteristic terraces formations of the Judean Hills. We are crossing the hills of Judea at 90 miles per hour and yet from our great height we appear stationary. Away on the horizon lays a dark streak which is rapidly enlarging. It is the dead sea. In a few minutes we are over it and gliding down in volplane. I am powerless

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