CHAPTER LIII. 
A SERIOUS CHARGE. 
At Tantura an incident occurred which any gentleman of 
respectable standing in society might well he excused for pass¬ 
ing over in silence. I do not believe a similar case is to he 
found in all the records of Syrian travel, though, doubtless, 
many a traveler has had personal experience of the same 
kind. It was an unpleasant charge, to say the least of it; 
a provoking and unmerited charge ; one that touches the very 
soul of an honorable man in the tenderest part. Fain would 
I proceed on the journey, and leave Tantura to future trav¬ 
elers ; but a desire to maintain that spirit of candor and 
truthfulness by which it has been my constant endeavor to 
distinguish this narrative from all others, induces me to give 
a full exposition of the facts. 
Tantura is a small village by the sea-side; the houses are 
also small and very dirty, like all the houses in Palestine. 
Such a thing as a hotel is not known in Tantura, or even a 
common tavern, or the remotest approach to any thing like 
it. There ought to be a Khan there; the traveling public 
require it, and would patronize such an establishment, but 
Tantura is Khanless ; there is not even a can of milk to be 
had for love or money. The only place we could find to stop 
at was a small hut, situated in a pond of green and stagnant 
water. There was room for improvement all about the house, 
but not much room inside ; at all events, not any to spare, 
considering that the occupants for the single apartment of 
which it consisted were already two mules, four goats, sev¬ 
eral dozen of chickens, and the owner and his wife. Add to 
this our party of Howadji, servants and muleteers, and there 
