The Hauran lies in the shadow of the Jebel Druz (known in Roman times as "Jebel Hauran," and more recently as "Jebel Arab.") The mountain is an extinct volcano. In fact, the surrounding region resembles a moonscape, dotted with strange-looking lava flows and cinder cones. Lava is responsible for the Hauran's fertile soil and snow melt from the mountain flowing down water courses or seeping through the earth, augments stored rainwater to provide ample water for cultivation and for the growth and prosperity of the small cities and towns that dot the Hauran.

East of the lava flows and out beyond the cultivated fields and vineyards that surround Bostra, a herd of ibex grazes on the open plain. A wisp of dust blows across the surface of the vast, empty expanse of land. A buck, leader of the herd, raises his head nervously to test the air and to scan the horizon. Apparently satisfied that no danger approaches, he returns to grazing.

Suddenly, without warning, a streak of yellow and black explodes from the cover of rocks and small shrubs near the herd, With lightning speed a cheetah is in their midst. The panicked ibex, bolt directly toward a party of hunters who wait in the near distance.

"Zobeid is in fine form today," smiles my cousin, Rabbel, as he notches his arrow.

"Yes," I agree. "She loves hunting. See, she already has one of them down! That will be her prize." I prepare to shoot as well. We spur our horses to come abreast of the fleeing ibex as they pass and we make our kills. It will be a fine feast tonight.

We are accompanied by some of the members of the Boule (the city council), as well as other leading citizens of the city of Bostra and surrounding area. Among them are visitors from the city of Shabha (later known as "Phillipopolis"), on the edge of the lava field, known at "Traconitis," on the western slopes of Jebel Druz. The couple, Lord Julius Marinus and his Lady, are wealthy members of the Equestrian class and leading citizens of Shabha. As we ride back to our camp, Lady Marinus, as any proud mother would do, regales me with countless stories of the exploits and accomplishments of her two sons, Iulius Philippus, and his brother, Iulius Priscus, who have both entered the Imperial service. I promise her that I will "keep my eye on them because they certainly have bright futures ahead of them."

At last, I am rescued from further tales of these two paragons by the Decurio of Bostra, who wishes to discuss the recent situation developing in the East and of its possible effect on Bostra. His chief concern is the possibility that refugees from Dura Europos may arrive in Bostra and the Hauran and our ability to take care of them.

"Of course, Syria will absorb most of the refugees." I, agree with him, thinking, "Most of them will probably remain in Palmyra. Some will follow the trade routes as far as Damascus or the Orontes River. Perhaps some of them will come as far as Bostra and the Hauran so we must be prepared."

I tell him, "We must be sure that the city's grain supply will be adequate for a possible influx of refugees. And once the inns and caravansaries are filled, we will need places where the newcomers will be able to camp. In some ways, it is fortunate that they are arriving in the Spring. There will be adequate meat because all of the new lambs being born this time of year. However, grain will be short because we have nearly depleted our winter supply. It will take months before the new wheat will be ready for harvest. Check the city's grain supply. If you think that it will be inadequate, we will arrange for extra supplies from the southern part of the province."

As evening approaches, we all gather at the huge tent that Malichus and the servants have raised for us. We,lounge on soft carpets and play at being Bedouin as we feast on roast ibex, wheat pilaf, bread and hummus, yoghurt, and spring herbs. All of it washed down with an excellent local wine. Just outside the tent, Zobeid happily gnaws on what remains of her own kill.