DERAT. 81 



of grain. Wliat we saw later in tlie day explained the 

 mystery, and proved how far preconceived ideas may lead 

 a writer into misrepresentation. It was interesting to 

 watch the long train defiling endlessly over the deAvy plain. 

 The camels were attached, head to tail, in batches of about 

 twenty each, headed by their drivers ; and lively little 

 donkeys, bestridden by boys, trotted alongside the great 

 solemn beasts. As the sun rose the mists rolled away, and 

 before we started, the long snowy ridge of Hermon stood 

 out bright and clear against the blue sky. It looked 

 very imposing, though at a distance of at least fifty 

 miles. 



Our track led in a north-easterly direction, over a chain 

 of low hills, where we encountered another train of laden 

 camels, and in a short two hours from Er-Remtheh, we 

 approached Derat, a large inhabited village of black basalt 

 houses, each surrounded by a high wall — the lower six feet 

 of solid masonry, the upper part built of loosely-piled 

 stones. Dead animals — dogs, horses, and mules — lay about 

 the streets in every stage of decomposition, offending equally 

 the senses of sight and smell. 



The principal ruin at Derat is that of a Christian church. 

 A large quadrangle, surrounded by cloisters, leads into a 

 low-roofed edifice supported by numerous columns. Archi- 

 tecture there is none, but the building is quite a museum 

 of capitals stolen from older edifices. Derat is a good 

 specimen of the modern architecture of the Hauran. The 

 houses are mere piles of ruins. Having passed, jjerhaps 

 by a stone door, through the high outer wall, you find 

 yourself in a small open space, whence steps lead down- 

 wards into sundry burrows, half excavated in the earth, 

 half built up and roofed in with unhewn stones. Anything 

 more sombre and unhomelike than these piles of black 

 basalt boulders it is impossible to conceive. It would be 



