Judaea (4)

Preparing to head out into the Negev Desert, hopefully this
would be the last time I will have to ride atop a camel. No
matter how many times I have been astride the beast, I have
never come to love him. Oh well, at least--thus far--he has
not yet bit me!

The camel has a web-like foot, hence he doesn't sink down
into the sand as much--even with his weight. Also, as is well
known, this creature can gulp down gallons of water at one
shot and then retain it for several weeks. The camel also has
special protective eye coverings, enabling it to work through
dusty air. And if there are sand storms, a reclining animal can
protect its rider. Enough said about my nemesis, the camel.
I give credit where credit is due.

Our camels took us through the desert safely, and at last we
reached Masada and Lake Asphalt. Some of the Fretensis
legionaries immediately wanted to take a quick dip into that
oily dead sea. They bobbled around like corks. It has been
said that it is nearly impossible to drown in that water. Maybe
so, but I decided against plunging-in. I did put my hand into
the lake's water, and indeed it was oily!

Looking back at nearby Masada, it seemed a sheer high
cliff. On the lake side, the mountain rose very high; but on
another side it sheered down to a much smaller height.
And it's here that the Fretensis Legion from times past, more
than fifty years ago, painstakingly built an attack rampart in
order to scale Masada and reach the top.

The legion, then, was pursuing the remnants of the Jewish
Zealots who had led the revolt that led to the destruction
of Jerusalem and the dispersion of many Jews from the land.
It took the legion nearly three years to build this huge ramp,
slowly piling up rock and earth along the lower side of Masada.
Once the legions reached the top, where the Zealots had
withstood attack for such a long time, they stood stock still
in shock. All the Zealots and their families were dead! It
was thought that they decided to kill one another, up to the
last man, rather than be captured by the Romans.

Now little more than a half-century later, here we stood once
again. It was deadly quiet. We managed to ride carefully
up the ramp. And by foot we even more carefully walked a
slim serpetine path up to the top. Once there, I looked out
on a flat terrace where Herod the Great's Palace once stood.
There were numerous water catch-basins. Yet I could not
figure how the Zealots managed to resist for such a long time.
The catch-basins might hold water, but in that hot region I
would not imagine indefinitely. As for food, surely this was
always in short supply.

Viewing all this, thinking about the tragedy at Masada, I felt
keenly the ghosts that must still wander in this place. Upon
my leave, in a quiet corner, I raised my arm in a strong Roman
salute--giving honor to an enemy of Rome, who nonetheless
were heroic in their determination to remain a free people!

Following Masada I bade farewell to the Province of Judaea.
As my ship pushed off from Caesarea, I left behind the "Land
of Ghosts" and headed for Rome.