{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_5468/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_5468","id":"gutenberg_5468","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/5468","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Historical Novels","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","German fiction -- Translations into English","Palestine -- History -- Fiction"],"text":"This eBook was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net>\n\n\n\n[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the\nfile for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an\nentire meal of them.  D.W.]\n\n\n\n\n\nJOSHUA\n\nBy Georg Ebers\n\nVolume 2.\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nAt the same hour a chamberlain was ushering Hosea into the audience\nchamber.\n\nUsually subjects summoned to the presence of the king were kept waiting\nfor hours, but the Hebrew's patience was not tried long.  During this\nperiod of the deepest mourning the spacious rooms of the palace, commonly\ntenanted by a gay and noisy multitude, were hushed to the stillness of\ndeath; for not only the slaves and warders, but many men and women in\nclose attendance on the royal couple had fled from the pestilence,\nquitting the palace without leave.\n\nHere and there a solitary priest, official, or courtier leaned against a\npillar or crouched on the floor, hiding his face in his hands, while\nawaiting some order.  Sentries paced to and fro with lowered weapons,\nlost in melancholy thoughts.  Now and then a few young priests in\nmourning robes glided through the infected rooms, silently swinging\nsilver censers which diffused a pungent scent of resin and juniper.\n\nA nightmare seemed to weigh upon the palace and its occupants; for in\naddition to grief for their beloved prince, which saddened many a heart,\nthe dread of death and the desert wind paralyzed alike the energy of mind\nand body.\n\nHere in the immediate vicinity of the throne where, in former days, all\neyes had sparkled with hope, ambition, gratitude, fear, loyalty, or hate,\nHosea now encountered only drooping heads and downcast looks.\n\nBai, the second prophet of Amon, alone seemed untouched alike by sorrow,\nanxiety, or the enervating atmosphere of the day; he greeted the warrior\nin the ante-room as vigorously and cheerily as ever, and assured him--\nthough in the lowest whisper--that no one thought of holding him\nresponsible for the misdeeds of his people.  But when Hosea volunteered\nthe acknowledgment that, at the moment of his summons to the king, he had\nbeen in the act of going to the commander-in-chief to beg a release from\nmilitary service, the priest interrupted him to remind him of the debt of\ngratitude he, Bai, owed to him as the preserver of his life.  Then he\nadded that he would make every effort in his power to keep him in the\narmy and show that the Egyptians--even against Pharaoh's will, or which\nhe would speak farther with him privately--knew how to honor genuine\nmerit without distinction of person or birth.\n\nThe Hebrew had little time to repeat his resolve; the head chamberlain\ninterrupted them to lead Hosea into the presence of the \"good god.\"\n\nThe sovereign awaited Hosea in the smaller audience-room adjoining the\nroyal apartments.\n\nIt was a stately chamber, and to-day looked more spacious than when, as\nof yore, it was filled with obsequious throngs.  Only a few courtiers and\npriests, with some of the queen's ladies-in-waiting, all clad in deep\nmourning, stood in groups near the throne.  Opposite to Pharaoh,\nsquatting in a circle on the floor, were the king's councillors and\ninterpreters, each adorned with an ostrich plume.\n\nAll wore tokens of mourning, and the monotonous, piteous plaint of the\nwailing women, which ever and anon rose into a loud, shrill, tremulous\nshriek, echoed through the silent rooms within to this hall, announcing\nthat death had claimed a victim even in the royal dwelling.\n\nThe king and queen sat on a gold and ivory couch, heavily draped with\nblack.  Instead of their usual splendid attire, both wore dark robes, and\nthe royal consort and mother, who mourned her first-born son, leaned\nmotionless, with drooping head, against her kingly husband's shoulder.\n\nPharaoh, too, gazed fixedly into space, as though lost in a dream.  The\nsceptre had slipped from his hand and lay in his lap.\n\nThe queen had been torn away from the corpse of her son, which was now\ndelivered to the embalmers, and it was not until she reached the entrance\nof the audience-chamber that she had succeeded in checking her tears.\nShe had no thought of resistance; the inexorable ceremonial of court\netiquette required the queen to be present at any audience of importance.\nTo-day she would gladly have shunned the task, but Pharaoh had commanded\nher presence, and she knew and approved the course to be pursued; for she\nwas full of dread of the power of the Hebrew Mesu, called by his own\npeople Moses, and of his God, who had brought such terrible woe on the\nEgyptians.  She had other children to lose, and she had known Mesu from\nher childhood, and was well aware how highly the great Rameses, her\nhusband's father and predecessor, had prized the wisdom of this stranger\nwho had been reared with his own sons.\n\nAh, if it were only possible to conciliate this man.  But Mesu had\ndeparted with the Israelites, and she knew his iron will and had learned\nthat the terrible prophet was armed, not alone against Pharaoh's threats,\nbut also against her own fervent entreaties.\n\nShe was now expecting Hosea.  He, the son of Nun, the foremost man of all\nthe Hebrews in Tanis, would succeed, if any one could, in carrying out\nthe plan which she and her royal husband deemed best for all parties,--a\nplan supported also by Rui, the hoary high-priest and first prophet of\nAmon, the head of the whole Egyptian priesthood, who held the offices of\nchief judge, chief treasurer, and viceroy of the kingdom, and had\nfollowed the court from Thebes to Tanis.\n\nEre going to the audience hall, she had been twining wreaths for her\nloved dead and the lotus flowers, larkspurs, mallow and willow-leaves,\nfrom which she was to weave them, had been brought there by her desire.\nThey were lying on a small table and in her lap; but she felt paralyzed,\nand the hand she stretched toward them refused to obey her will.\n\nRui, the first prophet of Amon, an aged man long past his ninetieth\nbirthday, squatted on a mat at Pharaoh's left hand.  A pair of bright\neyes, shaded by bushy white brows, glittered in his brown face--seamed\nand wrinkled like the bark of a gnarled oaklike gay flowers amid withered\nleaves, forming a strange contrast to his lean, bowed, and shrivelled\nform.\n\nThe old man had long since resigned the management of business affairs to\nthe second prophet, Bai, but he held firmly to his honors, his seat at\nPharaoh's side, and his place in the council, where, though he said\nlittle, his opinion was more frequently followed than that of the\neloquent, ardent second prophet, who was many years his junior.\n\nThe old man had not quitted Pharaoh's side since the plague entered the\npalace, yet to-day he felt more vigorous than usual; the hot desert wind,\nwhich weakened others, refreshed him.  He was constantly shivering,\ndespite the panther-skin which hung over his back and shoulders, and the\nheat of the day warmed his chilly old blood.\n\nMoses, the Hebrew, had been his pupil, and never had he instructed a\nnobler nature, a youth more richly endowed with all the gifts of\nintellect.  He had initiated the Israelite into all the highest\nmysteries, anticipating the greatest results for Egypt and the\npriesthood, and when the Hebrew one day slew an overseer who had\nmercilessly beaten one of his race, and then fled into the desert, Rui\nhad secretly mourned the evil deed as if his own son had committed it and\nmust suffer the consequences.  His intercession had secured Mesu's\npardon; but when the latter returned to Egypt and the change had occurred\nwhich other priests termed his \"apostasy,\" the old man had grieved even\nmore keenly than over his flight.  Had he, Rui, been younger, he would\nhave hated the man who had thus robbed him of his fairest hopes; but the\naged priest, who read men's hearts like an open book and could judge the\nsouls of his fellow-mortals with the calm impartiality of an unclouded\nmind, confessed that he had been to blame in failing to foresee his\npupil's change of thought.\n\nEducation and precept had made Mesu an Egyptian priest according to his\nown heart and that of the divinity; but after having once raised his hand\nin the defence of his own people against those to whom he had been bound\nonly by human craft and human will, he was lost to the Egyptians and\nbecame once more a true son of his race.  And where this man of the\nstrong will and lofty soul led the way, others could not fail to follow.\n\nRui knew likewise full well what the renegade meant to give to his race;\nhe had confessed it himself to the priest-faith in the one God.  Mesu had\nrejected the accusation of perjury, declaring that he would never betray\nthe mysteries to the Hebrews, his sole desire was to lead them back to\nthe God whom they had worshipped ere Joseph and his family came to Egypt.\nTrue, the \"One\" of the initiated resembled the God of the Hebrews in many\nthings, but this very fact had soothed the old sage; for experience had\ntaught him that the masses are not content with a single invisible God,\nan idea which many, even among the more advanced of his own pupils found\ndifficult to comprehend.  The men and women of the lower classes needed\nvisible symbols of every important thing whose influence they perceived\nin and around them, and the Egyptian religion supplied these images.\nWhat could an invisible creative power guiding the course of the universe\nbe to a love-sick girl?  She sought the friendly Hathor, whose gentle\nhands held the cords that bound heart to heart, the beautiful mighty\nrepresentative of her sex--to her she could trustingly pour forth all the\nsorrows that burdened her bosom.  What was the petty grief of a mother\nwho sought to snatch her darling child from death, to the mighty and\nincomprehensible Deity who governed the entire universe?  But the good\nIsis, who herself had wept her eyes red in bitter anguish, could\nunderstand her woe.  And how often in Egypt it was the wife who\ndetermined her husband's relations to the gods!\n\nRui had frequently seen Hebrew men and women praying fervently in\nEgyptian temples.  Even if Mesu should induce them to acknowledge his\nGod, the experienced sage clearly foresaw that they would speedily\nturn from the invisible Spirit, who must ever remain aloof and\nincomprehensible, and return by hundreds to the gods they understood.\n\nNow Egypt was threatened with the loss of the laborers and builders she\nso greatly needed, but Rui believed that they might be won back.\n\n\"When fair words will answer our purpose, put aside sword and bow,\" he\nhad replied to Bai, who demanded that the fugitives should be pursued and\nslain.  \"We have already too many corpses in our country; what we want is\nworkers.  Let us hold fast what we seem on the verge of losing.\"\n\nThese mild words were in full harmony with the mood of Pharaoh, who had\nhad sufficient sorrow, and would have thought it wiser to venture unarmed\ninto a lion's cage than to again defy the wrath of the terrible Hebrew.\n\nSo he had closed his ears to the exhortations of the second prophet,\nwhose steadfast, energetic will usually exercised all the greater\ninfluence upon him on account of his own irresolution, and upheld old\nRui's suggestion that the warrior, Hosea, should be sent after his people\nto deal with them in Pharaoh's name--a plan that soothed his mind and\nrenewed his hopes.\n\nThe second prophet, Bai, had finally assented to the plan; for it\nafforded a new chance of undermining the throne he intended to overthrow.\nIf the Hebrews were once more settled in the land, Prince Siptah, who\nregarded no punishment too severe for the race he hated, might perhaps\nseize the sceptre of the cowardly king Menephtah.\n\nBut the fugitives must first be stopped, and Hosea was the right man to\ndo this.  But in Bai's eyes no one would be more able to gain the\nconfidence of an unsuspicious soldier than Pharaoh and his royal consort.\nThe venerable high-priest Rui, though wholly unaware of the conspiracy,\nshared this opinion, and thus the sovereigns had been persuaded to\ninterrupt the mourning for the dead and speak in person to the Hebrew.\n\nHosea had prostrated himself before the throne and, when he rose, the\nking's weary face was bent toward him, sadly, it is true, yet graciously.\n\nAccording to custom, the hair and beard of the father who had lost his\nfirst-born son had been shaven.  Formerly they had encircled his face in\na frame of glossy black, but twenty years of anxious government had made\nthem grey, and his figure, too, had lost its erect carriage and seemed\nbent and feeble, though he had scarcely passed his fifth decade.  His\nregular features were still beautiful in their symmetry, and there was a\ntouch of pathos in their mournful gentleness, so evidently incapable of\nany firm resolve, especially when a smile lent his mouth a bewitching\ncharm.\n\nThe languid indolence of his movements scarcely impaired the natural\ndignity of his presence, yet his musical voice was wont to have a feeble,\nbeseeching tone.  He was no born ruler; thirteen older brothers had died\nere the throne of Pharaoh had become his heritage, and up to early\nmanhood he had led a careless, joyous existence--as the handsomest youth\nin the whole land, the darling of women, the light-hearted favorite of\nfortune.  Then he succeeded his father the great Rameses, but he had\nscarcely grasped the sceptre ere the Libyans, with numerous allies,\nrebelled against Egypt.  The trained troops and their leaders, who had\nfought in his predecessor's wars, gained him victory, but during the\ntwenty years which had now passed since Rameses' death, the soldiers had\nrarely had any rest.  Insurrections constantly occurred, sometimes in the\nEast, anon in the West and, instead of living in Thebes, where he had\nspent many years of happiness, and following the bent of his inclination\nby enjoying in the splendid palace the blessing of peace and the society\nof the famous scholars and poets who then made that city their home, he\nwas compelled sometimes to lead his armies in the field, sometimes to\nlive in Tanis, the capital of Lower Egypt, to settle the disturbances of\nthe border land.\n\nThis was the desire of the venerable Rui, and the king willingly followed\nhis guidance.  During the latter years of Rameses' reign, the temple at\nThebes, and with it the chief priest, had risen to power and wealth\ngreater than that possessed by royalty itself, and Menephtah's indolent\nnature was better suited to be a tool than a guiding hand, so long as he\nreceived all the external honors due to Pharaoh.  These he guarded with a\ndetermination which he never roused himself to display in matters of\ngraver import.\n\nThe condescending graciousness of Pharaoh's reception awakened feelings\nof mingled pleasure and distrust in Hosea's mind, but he summoned courage\nto frankly express his desire to be relieved from his office and the oath\nhe had sworn to his sovereign.\n\nPharaoh listened quietly.  Not until Hosea confessed that he was induced\nto take this step by his father's command did he beckon to the high-\npriest, who began in low, almost inaudible tones:\n\n\"The son who resigns great things to remain obedient to his father will\nbe the most loyal of the 'good god's' servants.  Go, obey the summons of\nNun.  The son of the sun, the Lord of Upper and Lower Egypt, sets you\nfree; but through me, the slave of his master, he imposes one condition.\"\n\n\"What is that?\"  asked Hosea.\n\nPharaoh signed to Rui a second time and, as the monarch sank back upon\nhis throne, the old man, fixing his keen eyes on Hosea, replied:\n\n\"The demand which the lord of both worlds makes upon you by my lips is\neasy to fulfil.  You must return to be once more his servant and one of\nus, as soon as your people and their leader, who have brought such\nterrible woe upon this land, shall have clasped the divine hand which the\nson of the sun extends to them in reconciliation, and shall have returned\nto the beneficent shadow of his throne.  He intends to attach them to his\nperson and his realm by rich tokens of his favor, as soon as they return\nfrom the desert to which they have gone forth to sacrifice to their God.\nUnderstand me fully!  All the burdens which have oppressed the people of\nyour race shall be removed.  The 'great god' will secure to them, by a\nnew law, privileges and great freedom, and whatever we promise shall be\nwritten down and witnessed on our part and yours as a new and valid\ncovenant binding on our children and our children's children.  When such\na compact has been made with an honest purpose on our part to keep it for\nall time, and your tribes have consented to accept it, will you promise\nthat you will then be one of us again?\"\n\n\"Accept the office of mediator, Hosea,\" the queen here interrupted in a\nlow tone, with her sorrowful eyes fixed imploringly on Hosea's face.\n\"I dread the fury of Mesu, and everything in our power shall be done to\nregain his old friendship.  Mention my name and recall the time when he\ntaught little Isisnefert the names of the plants she brought to him and\nexplained to her and her sister their beneficial or their harmful\nqualities, during his visits to the queen, his second mother, in the\nwomen's apartments.  The wounds he has dealt our hearts shall be pardoned\nand forgotten.  Be our envoy.  Hosea, do not deny us.\"\n\n\"Such words from royal lips are a strict mandate,\" replied the Hebrew.\n\"And yet they make the heart rejoice.  I will accept the office of\nmediator.\"\n\nThe hoary high-priest nodded approvingly, exclaiming:\n\n\"I hope a long period of blessing may arise from this brief hour.  But\nnote this.  Where potions can aid, surgery must be shunned.  Where a\nbridge spans the stream, beware of swimming through the whirlpool.\"\n\n\"Yes, by all means shun the whirlpool,\" Pharaoh repeated, and the queen\nuttered the same words, then once more bent her eyes on the flowers in\nher lap.\n\nA council now began.\n\nThree private scribes took seats on the floor close by Rui, in order to\ncatch his low tones, and the scribes and councillors in the circle before\nthe throne seized their writing-materials and, holding the papyrus in\ntheir left hands, wrote with reed or brush; for nothing which was debated\nand determined in Pharaoh's presence was suffered to be left unrecorded.\n\nDuring the continuance of this debate no voice in the audience chamber\nwas raised above a whisper; the courtiers and guards stood motionless at\ntheir posts, and the royal pair gazed mutely into vacancy as though lost\nin reverie.\n\nNeither Pharaoh nor his queen could possibly have heard the muttered\nconversation between the men; yet the Egyptians, at the close of every\nsentence, glanced upward at the king as if to ensure his approbation.\nHosea, to whom the custom was perfectly familiar, did the same and, like\nthe rest, lowered his tones.  Whenever the voices of Bai or of the chief\nof the scribes waxed somewhat louder, Pharaoh raised his head and\nrepeated the words of Rui: \"Where a bridge spans the stream, beware of\nswimming through the whirlpool;\" for this saying precisely expressed his\nown desires and those of the queen.  No strife!  Let us live at peace\nwith the Hebrews, and escape from the anger of their awful leader and his\nGod, without losing the thousands of industrious workers in the departed\ntribes.\n\nSo the discussion went on, and when the murmuring of the debaters and the\nscratching of the scribes' reeds had continued at least an hour the queen\nremained in the same position; but Pharaoh began to move and lift up his\nvoice, fearing that the second prophet, who had detested the man whose\nbenedictions he had implored and whose enmity seemed so terrible, was\nimposing on the mediator requirements impossible to fulfil.\n\nYet he said nothing save to repeat the warning about the bridge, but his\nquestioning look caused the chief of the scribes to soothe him with the\nassurance that everything was progressing as well as possible.  Hosea had\nonly requested that, in future, the overseers of the workmen should not\nbe of Libyan birth, but Hebrews themselves, chosen by the elders of their\ntribes with the approval of the Egyptian government.\n\nPharaoh cast a glance of imploring anxiety at Bai, the second prophet,\nand the other councillors; but the former shrugged his shoulders\ndeprecatingly and, pretending to yield his own opinion to the divine\nwisdom of Pharaoh, acceded to Hosea's request.\n\nThe divinity on the throne of the world accepted, with a grateful bend of\nthe head, this concession from a man whose wishes had so often opposed\nhis own, and after the \"repeater\" or herald had read aloud all the\nseparate conditions of the agreement, Hosea was forced to make a solemn\nvow to return in any case to Tanis, and report to the Sublime Porte how\nhis people had received the king's proposals.\n\nBut the wary chief, versed in the wiles and tricks with which the\ngovernment was but too well supplied, uttered the vow with great\nreluctance, and only after he had received a written assurance that,\nwhatever might be the result of the negotiations, his liberty should not\nbe restricted in any respect, after he had proved that he had used his\nutmost efforts to induce the leader of the Hebrews to accept the compact.\n\nAt last Pharaoh extended his hand for the warrior to kiss, and when the\nlatter had also pressed his lips to the edge of the queen's garments, Rui\nsigned to the head-chamberlain, who made obeisance to Pharaoh, and the\nsovereign knew that the hour had come when he might retire.  He did so\ngladly and with a lighter heart; for he believed that he had done his\nbest to secure his own welfare and that of his people.\n\nA sunny expression flitted across his handsome, worn features, and when\nthe queen also rose and saw his smile of satisfaction it was reflected on\nher face.  Pharaoh uttered a sigh of relief as he crossed the threshold\nof the audience chamber and, accosting his wife, said:\n\n\"If Hosea wins his cause, we shall cross the bridge safely.\"\n\n\"And need not swim through the whirlpool,\" the queen answered in the same\ntone.\n\n\"And if the chief succeeds in soothing Mesu, and induces the Hebrews to\nstay in the land,\" Pharaoh added:\n\n\"Then you will enrol this Hosea--he looks noble and upright--among the\nkindred of the king,\" Isisnefert interrupted.\n\nBut upon this Pharaoh drew up his languid, drooping figure, exclaiming\neagerly:\n\n\"How can I?  A Hebrew!  Were we to admit him among the 'friends' or\n'fan-bearers' it would be the highest favor we could bestow!  It is no\neasy matter in such a case to choose between too great or too small a\nrecompense.\"\n\nThe farther the royal pair advanced toward the interior of the palace,\nthe louder rose the wailing voices of the mourning women.  Tears once\nmore filled the eyes of the queen; but Pharaoh continued to ponder over\nwhat office at court he could bestow on Hosea, should his mission prove\nsuccessful.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\nHosea was forced to hurry in order to overtake the tribes in time; for\nthe farther they proceeded, the harder it would be to induce Moses and\nthe leaders of the people to return and accept the treaty.\n\nThe events which had befallen him that morning seemed so strange that he\nregarded them as a dispensation of the God whom he had found again; he\nrecollected, too, that the name \"Joshua,\" \"he who helps Jehovah,\" had\nbeen received through Miriam's message.  He would gladly bear it; for\nthough it was no easy matter to resign the name for which he had won\nrenown, still many of his comrades had done likewise.  His new one was\nattesting its truth grandly; never had God's help been more manifest to\nhim than this morning.  He had entered Pharaoh's palace expecting to be\nimprisoned or delivered over to the executioner, as soon as he insisted\nupon following his people, and how speedily the bonds that held him in\nthe Egyptian army had been sundered.  And he had been appointed to\ndischarge a task which seemed in his eyes so grand, so lofty, that he was\non the point of believing that the God of his fathers had summoned him to\nperform it.\n\nHe loved Egypt.  It was a fair country.  Where could his people find a\nmore delightful home?  It was only the circumstances under which they had\nlived there which had been intolerable.  Happier times were now in store.\nThe tribes were given the choice between returning to Goshen, or settling\non the lake land west of the Nile, with whose fertility and ample supply\nof water he was well acquainted.  No one would have a right to reduce\nthem to bondage, and whoever gave his labor to the service of the state\nwas to have for overseer no stern and cruel foreigner, but a man of his\nown blood.\n\nTrue, he knew that the Hebrews must remain under subjection to Pharaoh.\nBut had not Joseph, Ephraim, and his sons, Hosea's ancestors, been called\nhis subjects and lived content to be numbered among the Egyptians.\n\nIf the covenant was made, the elders of the tribes were to direct the\nprivate concerns of the people.  Spite of Bai's opposition, Moses had\nbeen named regent of the new territory, while he, Hosea, himself was to\ncommand the soldiers who would defend the frontiers, and marshal fresh\ntroops from the Israelite mercenaries, who had already borne themselves\nvaliantly in many a fray.  Ere he had quitted the palace, Bai had made\nvarious mysterious allusions, which though vague in purport, betrayed\nthat the priest was cherishing important plans and, as soon as the\nguidance of the government passed from old Rui's hands into his, a high\nposition, perhaps the command of the whole army, now led by a Syrian\nnamed Aarsu, would be conferred on him, Hosea.\n\nBut this prospect caused him more anxiety than pleasure, though great was\nhis satisfaction at having gained the concession that every third year\nthe eastern frontiers of the country should be thrown open to his people,\nthat they might go to the desert and there offer sacrifices to their God.\nMoses had seemed to lay the utmost stress upon this privilege, and\naccording to the existing law, no one was permitted to cross the narrow\nfortified frontier on the east without the permission of the government.\nPerhaps granting this desire of the mighty leader might win him to accept\na compact so desirable for his nation.\n\nDuring these negotiations Hosea had again realized his estrangement from\nhis people, he was not even aware--for what purpose the sacrifice in the\ndesert was offered.  He also frankly acknowledged to Pharaoh's\ncouncillors that he knew neither the grievances nor the requirements of\nthe tribes, a course he pursued to secure to the Hebrews the right of\nchanging or revising in any respect the offers he was to convey.\n\nWhat better proposals could they or their leader desire?\n\nThe future was full of fresh hopes of happiness for his people and\nhimself.  If the compact was made, the time had arrived for him to\nestablish a home of his own, and Miriam's image again appeared in all\nits loftiness and beauty.  The thought of gaining this splendid maiden\nwas fairly intoxicating, and he wondered whether he was worthy of her,\nand if it would not be presumptuous to aspire to the hand of the\ndivinely-inspired, majestic virgin and prophetess.\n\nHe was experienced in the affairs of life and knew full well how little\nreliance could be placed upon the promises of the vacillating man, who\nfound the sceptre too heavy for his feeble hand.  But he had exercised\ncaution and, if the elders of the people could but be won over, the\nagreement would be inscribed on metal tables, sentence by sentence, and\nhung in the temple at Thebes, with the signatures of Pharaoh and the\nenvoys of the Hebrews, like every other binding agreement between Egypt\nand a foreign nation.  Such documents--he had learned this from the\ntreaty of peace concluded with the Cheta--assured and lengthened the\nbrief \"eternity\" of national covenants.  He had certainly neglected no\nprecaution to secure his people from treachery and perjury.  Never had he\nfelt more vigorous, more confident, more joyous than when he again\nentered Pharaoh's chariot to take leave of his subordinates.  Bai's\nmysterious hints and suggestions troubled him very little; he was\naccustomed to leave future anxieties to be cared for in the future.  But\nat the camp he encountered a grief which belonged to the present;\nsurprised, angry, and troubled, he learned that Ephraim had secretly left\nthe tent, telling no one whither he was going.  A hurried investigation\ndrew out the information that the youth had been seen on the road to\nTanis, and Hosea hastily bade his trusty shield-bearer search the city\nfor the youth and, if he found him, to order him to follow his uncle to\nSuccoth.\n\nAfter the chief had said farewell to his men, he set off, attended only\nby his old groom.  He was pleased to have the adone--[Corresponding to\nthe rank of adjutant.]--and subaltern officers who had been with him, the\nstern warriors, with whom he had shared everything in war and peace, in\nwant and privation, show so plainly the pain of parting.  Tears streamed\ndown the bronzed cheeks of many a man who had grown grey in warfare, as\nhe clasped his hand for the last time.  Many a bearded lip was pressed to\nthe hem of his robe, to his feet, and to the sleek skin of the noble\nLibyan steed which, pressing forward with arching neck only to be curbed\nby its rider's strength, bore him through the ranks.  For the first time\nsince his mother's death his own eyes grew dim, as shouts of farewell\nrang warmly and loudly from the manly breasts of his soldiers.\n\nNever before had he so deeply realized how firmly he was bound to these\nmen, and how he loved his noble profession.\n\nYet the duty he was now fulfilling was also great and glorious, and the\nGod who had absolved him from his oath and smoothed the way for him to\nobey his father's commands as a true and upright man, would perhaps bring\nhim back to his comrades in arms, whose cordial farewell he still fancied\nhe heard long after he was out of reach of their voices.\n\nThe greatness of the work assigned to him, the enthusiasm of a man who\ndevotes himself with devout earnestness to the performance of a difficult\ntask, the rapturous joy of the lover, who with well-founded hopes of the\nfulfilment of the purest and fairest desires of his heart, hastens to\nmeet the woman of his choice, first dawned upon him when he had left the\ncity behind and was dashing at a rapid trot toward the south-east across\nthe flat, well-watered plain with its wealth of palm-groves.\n\nWhile forcing his steed to a slower pace as he passed through the streets\nof the capital, and the region near the harbor, his mind was so engrossed\nby his recent experiences and his anxiety concerning the runaway youth,\nthat he paid little attention to the throng of vessels lying at anchor,\nthe motley crowd of ship owners, traders, sailors, and laborers,\nrepresentatives of all the nations of Africa and Asia, who sought a\nlivelihood here, and the officials, soldiers, and petitioners, who had\nfollowed Pharaoh from Thebes to the city of Rameses.\n\nHe had even failed to see two men of high rank, though one, Hornecht, the\ncaptain of the archers, had waved his hand to him.\n\nThey had retired into the deep gateway formed by the pylons at the\nentrance of the temple of Seth, to escape the clouds of dust which the\ndesert wind was still blowing along the road.\n\nWhile Hornecht was vainly trying to arrest the horseman's attention, his\ncompanion, Bai, the second prophet of Amon, whispered: \"Let him go!  He\nwill learn where his nephew is soon enough.\"\n\n\"As you desire,\"  replied the soldier.  Then  he eagerly continued the\nstory he had just begun.  \"When they brought the lad in, he looked like a\npiece of clay in the potter's workshop.\"\n\n\"No wonder,\" replied the priest; \"he had lain long enough in the road in\nthe dust of Typhon.  But what was your steward seeking among the\nsoldiers?\"\n\n\"We had heard from my adon, whom I sent to the camp last evening, that\nthe poor youth was attacked by a severe fever, so Kasana put up some wine\nand her nurse's balsam, and dispatched the old creature with them to the\ncamp.\"\n\n\"To the youth or to Hosea?\"  asked the prophet with a mischievous smile.\n\n\"To the sufferer,\" replied Hornecht positively, a frown darkening his\nbrow.  But, restraining himself, he added as if apologizing:  \"Her heart\nis as soft as wax, and the Hebrew youth--you saw him yesterday......\"\n\n\"Is a splendid lad, just fitted to win a woman's heart!\"  replied the\npriest laughing.  \"Besides, whoever shows kindness to the nephew does not\nharm the uncle.\"\n\n\"That was not in her mind,\" replied Hornecht bluntly.  \"But the invisible\nGod of the Hebrews is not less watchful of his children than the\nImmortals whom you serve; for he led Hotepu to the youth just as he was\nat the point of death.  The dreamer would undoubtedly have ridden past\nhim; for the dust had already .  .  .  .\"\n\n\"Transformed him into a bit of potter's clay.  But then?\"\n\n\"Then the old man suddenly saw a glint of gold in the dusty heap.\"\n\n\"And the stiffest neck will stoop for that.\"\n\n\"Quite true.  My Hotepu did so, and the broad gold circlet the lad wore\nflashed in the sunlight and preserved his life a second time.\"\n\n\"The luckiest thing is that we have the lad in our possession.\"\n\n\"Yes, I was rejoiced to have him open his eyes once more.  Then his\nrecovery grew more and more rapid; the doctor says he is like a kitten,\nand all these mishaps will not cost him his life.  But he is in a violent\nfever, and in his delirium says all sorts of senseless things, which even\nmy daughter's nurse, a native of Ascalon, cannot clearly comprehend.\nOnly she thought she caught Kasana's name.\"\n\n\"So it is once more a woman who is the source of the trouble.\"\n\n\"Stop these jests, holy father,\" replied Hornecht, biting his lips.\n\"A modest widow, and that boy with the down still on his lips.\"\n\n\"At his age,\" replied the unabashed priest, \"fullblown roses have a\nstronger attraction for young beetles than do buds; and in this\ninstance,\" he added more gravely, \"it is a most fortunate accident.  We\nhave Hosea's nephew in the snare, and it will be your part not to let him\nescape.\"\n\n\"Do you mean that we are to deprive him of his liberty?\"  cried the\nwarrior.\n\n\"Even so.\"\n\n\"Yet you value his uncle?\"\n\n\"Certainly.  But the state has a higher claim.\"\n\n\"This boy.  .  .  .\"\n\n\"Is a desirable hostage.  Hosea's sword was an extremely useful tool to\nus; but if the hand that guides it is directed by the man whose power\never greater things we know .  .  .  .\"\n\n\"You mean the Hebrew, Mesu?\"\n\n\"Then Hosea will deal us wounds as deep as those he erst inflicted on our\nfoes.\"\n\n\"Yet I have heard you say more than once that he was incapable of\nperjury.\"\n\n\"And so I say still, he has given wonderful proof of it to-day.  Merely\nfor the sake of being released from his oath, he thrust his head into the\ncrocodile's jaws.  But though the son of Nun is a lion, he will find his\nmaster in Mesu.  That man is the mortal foe of the Egyptians, the bare\nthought of him stirs my gall.\"\n\n\"The cries of the wailing women behind this door admonish us loudly\nenough to hate him.\"\n\n\"Yet the weakling on the throne has forgotten vengeance, and is now\nsending Hosea on an errand of reconciliation.\"\n\n\"With your sanction, I think?\"\n\n\"Ay,\" replied the priest with a mocking smile.  \"We send him to build a\nbridge!  Oh, this bridge!  A grey-beard's withered brain recommends it to\nbe thrown across the stream, and the idea just suits this pitiful son of\na great father, who would certainly never have shunned swimming through\nthe wildest whirlpool, especially when revenge was to be sought.  Let\nHosea essay the bridge!  If it leads him back across the stream to us, I\nwill offer him a right warm and cordial welcome; but as soon as this one\nman stands on our shores, may its supports sink under the leaders of his\npeople; we, the only brave souls in Egypt, must see to that.\"\n\n\"So be it.  Yet I fear we shall lose the chief, too, if justice overtakes\nhis people.\"\n\n\"It might almost seem so.\"\n\n\"You have greater wisdom than I\"\n\n\"Yet here you believe me in error.\"\n\n\"How could I venture to .  .  .  .\"\n\n\"As a member of the military council you are entitled to your own\nopinion, and I consider myself bound to show you the end of the path\nalong which you have hitherto followed us with blindfold eyes.  So\nlisten, and judge accordingly when your turn comes to speak in the\ncouncil.  The chief-priest Rui is old .  .  .  .\"\n\n\"And you now fill half his offices.\"\n\n\"Would that he might soon be relieved of the last half of his burden.\nNot on my own account.  I love strife, but for the welfare of our native\nland.  It is a deep-seated feeling of our natures to regard the\nutterances and mandates of age as wisdom, so there are few among the\ncouncillors who do not follow the old man's opinions; yet his policy\nlimps on crutches, like himself.  All good projects are swamped under his\nweak, fainthearted guidance.\"\n\n\"That is the very reason my vote is at your disposal,\" cried the warrior.\n\"That is why I am ready to use all my might to hurl this sleeper from the\nthrone and get rid of his foolish advisers.\"\n\nThe prophet laid his finger on his lips to warn his companion to be more\ncautious, drew nearer to him, pointed to his litter, and said in a low,\nhurried tone:\n\n\"I am expected at the Sublime Porte, so listen.  If Hosea's mission is\nsuccessful his people will return--the guilty with the innocent--and the\nlatter will suffer.  Among the former we can include the whole of Hosea's\ntribe, who call themselves the sons of Ephraim, from old Nun down to the\nyouth in your dwelling.\"\n\n\"We may spare them; but Mesu, too, is a Hebrew, and what we do to him...\"\n\n\"Will not occur in the public street, and it is child's play to sow\nenmity between two men who desire to rule in the same sphere.  I will\nmake sure that Hosea shall shut his eyes to the other's death; but\nPharaoh, whether his name is Meneptah or\"--he lowered his voice--\"Siptah,\nmust then raise him to so great a height--and he merits it--that his\ngiddy eyes will never discern aught we desire to conceal.  There is one\ndish that never palls on any man who has once tasted it.\"\n\n\"And what is that?\"\n\n\"Power, Hornecht--mighty power!  As ruler of a whole province, commander\nof all the mercenaries in Aarsu's stead, he will take care not to break\nwith us.  I know him.  If I can succeed in making him believe Mesu has\nwronged him--and the imperious man will afford some pretext for it--and\ncan bring him to the conviction that the law directs the punishment we\nmete out to the sorcerer and the worst of his adherents, he will not only\nassent but approve it.\"\n\n\"And if he fails in his mission?\"\n\n\"He will return at any rate; for he would not be false to his oath.  But\nif Mesu, from whom we may expect anything, should detain him by force,\nthe boy will be of service to us; for Hosea loves him, his people value\nhis life, and he belongs to one of their noblest tribes.  In any case\nPharaoh must threaten the lad; we will guard him, and that will unite his\nuncle to us by fresh ties and lead him to join those who are angry with\nthe king.\"\n\n\"Excellent!\"\n\n\"The surest way to attain our object will be by forging still another\nchain.  In short--now I beg you to be quiet, your temper is far too hot\nfor your grey hairs--in short, our Hebrew brother-in-arms, the saviour of\nmy life, the ablest man in the army, who is certain to win the highest\nplace, must be your son-in-law.  Kasana's heart is his--my wife has told\nme so.\"  Hornecht frowned again, and struggled painfully to control his\nanger.  He perceived that he must overcome his objection to giving his\ndaughter to the man whose birth he scorned, much as he liked and esteemed\nhis character.  He could not refrain from uttering an oath under his\nbreath, but his answer to the prophet was more calm and sensible than the\nlatter had anticipated.  If Kasana was so possessed by demons that this\nstranger infatuated her, let her have her will.  But Hosea had not yet\nsued for her.\n\n\"By the red god Seth, and his seventy companions,\" he added wrathfully,\n\"neither you, nor any one shall induce me to offer my daughter, who has\ntwenty suitors, to a man who terms himself our friend, yet finds no\nleisure to greet us in our own house!  To keep fast hold of the lad is\nanother thing, I will see to that.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\nThe midnight heavens, decked with countless stars, spanned with their\ncloudless azure vault the flat plains of the eastern Delta and the city\nof Succoth, called by the Egyptians, from their sanctuary, the place of\nthe god Tum, or Pithom.\n\nThe March night was drawing toward its end, pallid mists floated over the\ncanal, the work of Hebrew bondmen which, as far as the eye could reach,\nintersected the plain, watering the fields and pastures along its course.\n\nEastward and southward the sky was shrouded by dense veils of mist that\nrose from the large lakes and from the narrow estuaries that ran far up\ninto the isthmus.  The hot and dusty desert wind, which the day before\nhad swept over the parched grass and the tents and houses of Succoth, had\nsubsided at nightfall; and the cool atmosphere which in March, even in\nEgypt, precedes the approach of dawn, made itself felt.\n\nWhoever had formerly entered, between midnight and morning, the humble\nfrontier hamlet with its shepherd tents, wretched hovels of Nile mud, and\nby no means handsome farms and dwellings, would scarcely have recognized\nit now.  Even the one noticeable building in the place--besides the\nstately temple of the sungod Turn--the large fortified store-house,\npresented at this hour an unfamiliar aspect.  Its long white-washed\nwalls, it is true, glimmered through the gloom as distinctly as ever, but\ninstead of towering--as usual at this time--mute and lifeless above the\nslumbering town--the most active bustle was going on within and around\nit.  It was intended also as a defense against the predatory hordes of\nthe Shasu,\n\n     [Bedouins, who dwelt as nomads in the desert adjacent to Egypt, now\n     regarded as part of Asia.]\n\nwho had made a circuit around the fortified works on the isthmus, and its\nindestructible walls contained an Egyptian garrison, who could easily\ndefend it against a force greatly superior in numbers.\n\nTo-day it looked as if the sons of the desert had assailed it; but the\nmen and women who were bustling about below and on the broad parapet of\nthe gigantic building were Hebrews, not Shasu.  With loud outcries and\ngesticulations of delight they were seizing the thousands of measures of\nwheat, barley, rye, and durra, the stores of pulse, dates, and onions\nthey found in the well-filled granaries, and even before sunset had begun\nto empty the store-rooms and put their contents into sacks, pails, and\nskins, trays, jugs, and aprons, which were let down by ropes or carried\nto the ground on ladders.\n\nThe better classes took no share in this work, but among the busy throng,\nspite of the lateness of the hour, were children of all ages, carrying\naway in pots, jugs, and dishes-borrowed from their mothers' cooking\nutensils--as much as they could.\n\nAbove, beside the unroofed openings of the storerooms, into which the\nstars were shining, and also at the foot of the ladders, women held\ntorches or lanterns to light the others at their toil.\n\nPans of blazing pitch were set in front of the strong locked doors of the\nreal fortress, and in their light armed shepherds were pacing to and fro.\nWhen heavy stones or kicks belabored the brazen-bound door from within,\nand threats were uttered in the Egyptian tongue, the Hebrews outside did\nnot fail to retort in words of mockery and scorn.\n\nOn the day of the harvest festival, during the first evening watch,\nrunners arrived at Succoth and announced to the Israelites, whose numbers\nwere twenty-fold greater than those of the Egyptians, that they had\nquitted Tanis in the morning and the tribes intended to leave at night;\ntheir kindred in Succoth must be ready to go forth with them.  There was\ngreat rejoicing among the Hebrews, who like those of their blood in the\ncity of Rameses, had assembled in every house at a festive repast on the\nnight of the new moon after the vernal equinox when the harvest festival\nusually began.  The heads of the tribes had informed them that the day of\nliberation had arrived, and the Lord would lead them into the Promised\nLand.\n\nHere, too, as in Tanis, many had been faint-hearted and rebellious, and\nothers had endeavored to separate their lot from the rest and remain\nbehind; but here, too, they were carried away by the majority.  Eleasar,\nthe son of Aaron, and the distinguished heads of the tribe of Judah, Hur\nand Naashon, had addressed the multitude, as Aaron and Nun had done in\nthe city of Rameses.  But Miriam, the virgin, the sister of Moses, had\ngone from house to house, everywhere awakening the fire of enthusiasm in\nmen's hearts, and telling the women that the morrow's sun would usher in\nfor them and their children a new day of happiness, prosperity, and\nfreedom.\n\nFew had been deaf to the appeals of the prophetess; there was an air of\nmajesty, which compelled obedience, in the bearing of this maiden, whose\nlarge black eyes, surmounted by heavy dark eye-brows, which met m the\nmiddle, pierced the hearts of those on whom her gaze was bent and seemed\nto threaten the rebellious with their gloomy radiance.\n\nThe members of every household went to rest after the festival with\nhearts uplifted and full of hope.  But what a change had passed over them\nduring the second day, the night that followed it, and the next morning!\nIt seemed as though the desert wind had buried all their courage and\nconfidence in the dust it swept before it.  The dread of going forth to\nface an unknown future had stolen into every heart, and many a man who\nhad waved his staff full of trust and joyful enterprise was now held, as\nif with clamps and fetters, to his well-tilled garden, the home of his\nancestors, and the harvest in the fields, which had just been half\ngathered.\n\nThe Egyptian garrison in the fortified store-house had not failed to\nnotice that the Hebrews were under some special excitement, but they\nsupposed it due to the harvest festival.  The commander of the garrison\nhad learned that Moses desired to lead his people into the wilderness to\noffer sacrifices to their God, and had asked for a reinforcement.  But he\nknew nothing more; for until the morning when the desert wind blew, no\nHebrew had disclosed the plans of his kindred.  But the more sorely the\nheat of the day oppressed them, the greater became the dread of the\nfaint-hearted of the pilgrimage through the hot, dusty, waterless desert.\nThe terrible day had given them a foretaste of what was impending and\nwhen, toward noon, the dust grew thicker, the air more and more\noppressive, a Hebrew trader, from whom the Egyptian soldiers purchased\ngoods, stole into the store-house to ask the commander to prevent his\npeople from rushing to their doom.\n\nEven among the leaders the voices of malcontents had grown loud.  Asarja\nand Michael, with their sons, who grudged the power of Moses and Aaron,\nhad even gone from one to another to try to persuade them, ere departing,\nto summon the elders again and charge then to enter into fresh\nnegotiations with the Egyptians.  While these malcontents were\nsuccessfully gathering adherents, and the traitor had sought the\ncommander of the Egyptian garrison, two more messengers arrived with\ntidings that the fugitives would arrive in Succoth between midnight and\nmorning.\n\nBreathless, speechless, dripping with perspiration, and with bleeding\nlips, the elder messenger sank on the threshold of Amminadab's house, now\nthe home of Miriam also.  Both the exhausted men were refreshed with wine\nand food, ere the least wearied was fully capable of speech.  Then, in a\nhoarse voice, but from a heart overflowing with gratitude and ardent\nenthusiasm, be reported the scenes which had occurred at the exodus, and\nhow the God of their fathers had filled every heart with His spirit, and\ninstilled new faith into the souls of the cowards.\n\nMiriam had listened to this story with sparkling eyes; at its close she\nflung her veil over her head and bade the servants of the household, who\nhad assembled around the messengers, to summon the whole Hebrew people\nunder the sycamore, whose broad summit, the growth of a thousand years,\nprotected a wide space of earth from the scorching sunbeams.\n\nThe desert wind was still blowing, but the glad news seemed to have\ndestroyed the baneful power it exerted on man, and when many hundreds of\npeople had flocked together under the sycamore, Miriam had given her hand\nto Eleasar, the son of her brother Aaron, sprung upon the bench which\nrested against the huge hollow trunk of the tree, raised her hands and\neyes toward heaven in an ecstasy, and began in a loud voice to address a\nprayer to the Lord, as if she beheld him with her earthly vision.\n\nThen she permitted the messenger to speak, and when the latter again\ndescribed the events which had occurred in the city of Rameses, and then\nannounced that the fugitives from Tanis would arrive in a few hours, loud\nshouts of joy burst from the throng.  Eleasar, the son of Aaron,\nproclaimed with glowing enthusiasm what the Lord had done for his people\nand had promised to them, their children, and children's children.\n\nEach word from the lips of the inspired speaker fell upon the hearts of\nthe Hebrews like the fresh dew of morning on the parched grass.  The\ntrusting hearers pressed around him and Miriam with shouts of joy, and\nthe drooping courage of the timorous appeared to put forth new wings.\nAsarja, Michael, and their followers no longer murmured, nay, most of\nthem had been infected by the general enthusiasm, and when a Hebrew\nmercenary stole out from the garrison of the store-house and disclosed\nwhat had been betrayed to his commander, Eleasar, Naashon, Hur, and\nothers took counsel together, gathered all the shepherds around them, and\nwith glowing words urged them to show in this hour that they were men\nindeed and did not fear, with their God's mighty aid, to fight for their\npeople and their liberty.\n\nThere was no lack of axes, clubs, sickles, brazen spears, heavy staves,\nslings, the shepherds' weapons of defence against the wild beasts of the\ndesert, or bows and arrows, and as soon as a goodly number of strong men\nhad joined him, Hur fell upon the Egyptian overseers who were watching\nthe labor of several hundred Hebrew slaves.  Shouting: \"They are coming!\nDown with the oppressors!  The Lord our God is our leader!\"  they rushed\nupon the Lybian warders, put them to rout, and released their fellows who\nwere digging the earth, and laying bricks.  As soon as the illustrious\nNaashon had pressed one of the oldest of these hapless men like a brother\nto his heart, the other liberated bondsmen had flung themselves into the\nshepherds' arms and thus, still shouting: \"They are coming!\"  and \"The\nLord, the God of our fathers, is our leader!\"  they pressed forward in an\nincreasing multitude.  When at last the little band of shepherds had\ngrown to a body of several thousand men, Hur led them against the\nEgyptian soldiers, whom they largely outnumbered.\n\nThe Egyptian bowmen had already discharged a shower of arrows, and stones\nhurled from the slings of the powerful shepherds had dealt fatal wounds\nin the front ranks of the foe, when the blast of a trumpet rang out,\nsummoning the garrison of the fortress behind the sloping walls and solid\ndoor.  The Hebrews seemed to the commander too superior a force to fight,\nbut duty required him to hold the fort until the arrival of the\nreinforcements he had requested.\n\nHur, however, had not been satisfied with his first victory.  Success had\nkindled the courage of his followers, as a sharp gust of wind fans a\nsmouldering fire, and wherever an Egyptian showed himself on the\nbattlements of the store-house, the round stone from a shepherd's sling\nstruck heavily upon him.  At Naashon's bidding ladders had been brought\nand, in the twinkling of an eye, hundreds climbed up the building from\nevery direction and, after a short, bloodless struggle, the granaries\nfell into the Hebrews' hands, though the Egyptians had succeeded in still\nretaining the fort.  During the passage of these events the desert wind\nhad subsided.  Some of the liberated bondsmen, furious with rage, had\nheaped straw, wood, and faggots against the gate of the courtyard into\nwhich the Egyptians had been forced.  It would have been a light task for\nthe assailants to destroy every one of their foes by fire; but Hur,\nNaashon, and other prudent leaders had not suffered this to be done, lest\nthe provisions still in the store-rooms should be burned.\n\nIt had been no easy matter, in truth, to deter the younger of the ill-\ntreated bondsmen from this act of vengeance; but each one was a member of\nsome family, and when Hur's admonitions were supported by those of the\nfathers and mothers, they not only allowed themselves to be pacified, but\naided the elders to distribute the contents of the magazines among the\nheads of families and pack them on the beasts of burden and into the\ncarts which were to accompany the fugitives.\n\nThe work went forward amid the broad glare of torches, and became a new\nfestival; for neither Hur, Naashon, nor Eleasar could prevent the men and\nwomen from opening the wine-jars and skins.  They succeeded, however, in\npreserving the lion's share of the precious booty for a time of need, and\nthus averted much drunkenness, though the spirit of the grape-juice and\nthe pleasure in obtaining so rich a prize doubtless enhanced the grateful\nexcitement of the throng.  When Eleasar finally went among them for the\nsecond time to tell them of the Promised Land, men and women listened\nwith uplifted hearts, and joined in the hymn Miriam began to sing.\n\nDevout enthusiasm now took possession of every heart in Succoth, as it\nhad done in Tanis during the hour that preceded the exodus, and when\nseventy Hebrew men and women, who had concealed themselves in the temple\nof Turn, heard the jubilant hymn, they came forth into the open air,\njoined the others, and packed their possessions with as much glad\nhopefulness and warm trust in the God of their fathers, as if they had\nnever shrunk from the departure.\n\nAs the stars sank lower in the heavens, the joyous excitement increased.\nMen and women thronged the road to Tanis to meet their approaching\nkindred.  Many a father led his boy by the hand, and many a mother\ncarried her child in her arms; the multitude drawing near contained\nnumerous beloved relatives to be greeted, and the coming dawn could not\nfail to bring solemn hours of which one would wish no beloved heart to be\ndeprived, and which would linger in the souls of the little ones till\nthey themselves had children and grandchildren.\n\nNo bed in tent, hovel, or house was occupied; for everywhere the final\npacking was going on.  The throng of workers at the granaries had\nlessened; most of them were now supplied with as much food as they could\ncarry.\n\nMen and women equipped for travelling lay around fires hurriedly lighted\nin front of many tents and houses, and in the larger farms shepherds were\ndriving the cattle and slaughtering the oxen and sheep which were unable\nto go with the people.  The blows of axes and hammers and the creaking of\nsaws were heard in front of many a house; for litters to transport the\nsick and feeble must be made.  Carts and wains were still to be loaded,\nand the heads of families had a hard task with the women; for a woman's\nheart often clings more closely to things apparently worthless than to\nthose of the greatest value.  When the weaver Rebecca was more eager to\nfind room in the cart for the rude cradle in which her darling had died,\nthan for the beautiful ebony chest inlaid with ivory an Egyptian had\npawned to her husband, who could blame her?\n\nLight shone from all the window openings and tent doors, while from the\nroofs of the largest houses the blaze of torches or lanterns greeted the\napproaching Hebrews.\n\nAt the banquet served on the night of the harvest festival, no table had\nlacked a roast lamb; during this hour of waiting the housewife offered\nher family what she could.\n\nThe narrow streets of the humble little town were full of active life,\nand never had the setting stars shone upon features so cheerful, eyes\nsparkling so brightly with enthusiasm, and faces so transfigured by hope\nand devout piety.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\nWhen morning dawned, all who had not gone down to meet the fugitives who\nwere to make their first long halt here, had assembled on the roof of one\nof the largest houses in Succoth.\n\nOne after another fleet-footed man or boy, hurrying in advance of the\nrest, had reached Succoth.  Amminadab's house was the goal sought by the\nmajority.  It consisted of two buildings, one occupied by Naashon, the\nowner's son, and his family, the other, a larger dwelling, which\nsheltered, besides the grey-haired owner and his wife, his son-in-law\nAaron with his wife, children, and grand-children, and Miriam.  The aged\nleader of his tribe, who had assigned the duties of his position to his\nson Naashon, extended his hand to every messenger and listened to his\nstory with sparkling eyes, often dimmed by tears.  He had induced his old\nwife to sit in the armchair in which she was to be carried after the\npeople, that she might become accustomed to it, and for the same reason\nhe now occupied his own.\n\nWhen the old dame heard the messengers boast that the fair future\npromised to the people was now close at hand, her eyes often sought her\nhusband, and she exclaimed: \"Yes, Moses!\"  for she held her son-in-law's\nbrother in high esteem, and rejoiced to see his prophecy fulfilled.  The\nold people were proud of Aaron, too; but all their love was lavished upon\nEleasar, their grandson, whom they beheld growing up into a second Moses.\nMiriam had been for some time a new and welcome member of the household.\nTrue, the warm-hearted old couple's liking for the grave maiden had not\nincreased to parental tenderness, and their daughter Elisheba, Aaron's\nactive wife, had no greater inclination to share the cares of the large\nfamily with the prophetess than her son Naashon's spouse, who, moreover,\ndwelt with her immediate family under her own roof.  Yet the old people\nowed Miriam a debt of gratitude for the care she bestowed upon their\ngranddaughter Milcah, the daughter of Aaron and Elisheba, whom a great\nmisfortune had transformed from a merry-hearted child into a melancholy\nwoman, whose heart seemed dead to every joy.\n\nA few days after her marriage to a beloved husband the latter, carried\naway by passion, had raised his hand against an Egyptian tax-gatherer,\nwho, while Pharaoh was passing through Succoth toward the east, had\nattempted to drive off a herd of his finest cattle for \"the kitchen of\nthe lord of both worlds.\"  For this act of self-defence the hapless man\nhad been conveyed to the mines as a prisoner of state, and every one knew\nthat the convicts there perished, soul and body, from torturing labor far\nbeyond their strength.  Through the influence of old Nun, Hosea's father,\nthe wife and relatives of the condemned man had been saved from sharing\nhis punishment, as the law prescribed.  But Milcah languished under the\nblow, and the only person who could rouse the pale, silent woman from\nbrooding over her grief was Miriam.  The desolate heart clung to the\nprophetess, and she accompanied her when she practised in the huts of the\npoor the medical skill she had learned and took them medicines and alms.\n\nThe last messengers Amninadab and his wife received on the roof described\nthe hardships of the journey and the misery they had witnessed in dark\nhues; but if one, more tender-hearted than the rest, broke into\nlamentations over the sufferings endured by the women and children during\nthe prevalence of the desert wind, and recalling the worst horrors\nimpressed upon his memory, uttered mournful predictions for the future,\nthe old man spoke cheering words, telling him of the omnipotence of God,\nand how custom would inure one to hardship.  His wrinkled features\nexpressed firm confidence, while one could read in Miriam's beautiful,\nyet stern countenance, little of the courageous hope, which youth is wont\nto possess in a far higher degree than age.\n\nDuring the arrival and departure of the messengers she did not quit the\nold couple's side, leaving to her sister-in-law Elisheba and her servants\nthe duty of offering refreshments to the wearied men.  She herself\nlistened intently, with panting breath, but what she heard seemed to\nawaken her anxiety; for she knew that no one came to the house which\nsheltered Aaron save those who were adherents of her brothers, the\nleaders of the people.  If such men's blitheness was already waning,\nwhat must the outlook be to the lukewarm and refractory!\n\nShe rarely added a question of her own to those asked by the old man and,\nwhen she did so, the messengers who heard her voice for the first time\nlooked at her in surprise; though musical, the tones were unusually deep.\n\nAfter several messengers, in reply to her inquiries, declared that Hosea,\nthe son of Nun, had not come with the others, her head drooped and she\nasked nothing more, till pallid Milcah, who followed her everywhere,\nraised her dark eyes beseechingly and murmured the name of Reuben, her\ncaptive husband.  The prophetess kissed the poor desolate wife's\nforehead, glanced at her as if she had neglected her in some way, and\nthen questioned the messengers with urgent eagerness concerning their\nnews of Reuben, who had been dragged to the mines.  One only had learned\nfrom a released prisoner that Milcah's husband was living in the copper\nmines of the province of Bech, in the neighborhood of Mt. Sinai, and\nMiriam seized upon these tidings to assure Milcah, with great vivacity\nand warmth, that if the tribes moved eastward they would surely pass the\nmines and release the Hebrews imprisoned there.\n\nThese were welcome words, and Milcah, who nestled to her comforter's\nbreast, would gladly have heard more; but great restlessness had seized\nupon the people gazing into the distance from the roof of Amminadab's\nhouse; a dense cloud of dust was approaching from the north, and soon\nafter a strange murmur arose, then a loud uproar, and finally shouts and\ncries from thousands of voices, lowing, neighing, and bleating, such as\nnone of the listeners had ever heard,--and then on surged the many-limbed\nand many-voiced multitude, the endless stream of human beings and herds,\nwhich the astrologer's grandson on the observatory of the temple at Tanis\nhad mistaken for the serpent of the nether-world.\n\nNow, too, in the light of early dawn, it might easily have been imagined\na host of bodiless spirits driven forth from the realms of the dead; for\na whitish-grey column of dust extending to the blue vault of heaven moved\nbefore it, and the vast whole, with its many parts and voices, veiled by\nthe clouds of sand, had the appearance of a single form.  Often, however,\na metal spear-head or a brazen kettle, smitten by a sunbeam, flashed\nbrightly, and individual voices, shouting loudly, fell upon the ear.\n\nThe foremost billows of the flood had now reached Amminadab's house,\nbefore which pasture lands extended as far as the eye could reach.\n\nWords of command rang on the air, the procession halted, dispersing as a\nmountain lake overflows in spring, sending rivulets and streams hither\nand thither; but the various small runlets speedily united, taking\npossession of broad patches of the dewy pastures, and wherever such\nportions of the torrent of human beings and animals rested, the shroud of\ndust which had concealed them disappeared.\n\nThe road remained hidden by the cloud a long time, but on the meadows the\nmorning sunlight shone upon men, women, and children, cattle and donkeys,\nsheep and goats, and soon tent after tent was pitched on the green sward\nin front of the dwellings of Amminadab and Naashon, herds were surrounded\nby pens, stakes and posts were driven into the hard ground, awnings were\nstretched, cows were fastened to ropes, cattle and sheep were led to\nwater, fires were lighted, and long lines of women, balancing jars on\ntheir heads, with their slender, beautifully curved arms, went to the\nwell behind the old sycamore or to the side of the neighboring canal.\n\nThis morning, as on every other working-day, a pied ox with a large hump\nwas turning the wheel that raised the water.  It watered the land, though\nthe owner of the cattle intended to leave it on the morrow; but the slave\nwho drove it had no thought beyond the present and, as no one forbade\nhim, moistened as he was wont the grass for the foe into whose hands it\nwas to fall.\n\nHours elapsed ere the advancing multitude reached the camp, and Miriam\nwho stood describing to Amminadab, whose eyes were no longer keen enough\nto discern distant objects, what was passing below, witnessed many an\nincident from which she would fain have averted her gaze.\n\nShe dared not frankly tell the old man what she beheld, it would have\nclouded his joyous hope.\n\nRelying, with all the might of an inspired soul upon the God of her\nfathers and his omnipotence, she had but yesterday fully shared\nAmminadab's confidence; but the Lord had bestowed upon her spirit the\nfatal gift of seeing things and hearing words incomprehensible to all\nother human beings.  Usually she distinguished them in dreams, but they\noften came to her also in solitary hours, when she was deeply absorbed by\nthoughts of the past or the future.\n\nThe words Ephraim had announced to Hosea in her name, as a message from\nthe Most High, had been uttered by unseen lips while she was thinking\nunder the sycamore of the exodus and the man whom she had loved from her\nchildhood--and when that day, between midnight and morning, she again sat\nbeneath the venerable tree and was overpowered by weariness, she had\nbelieved she heard the same voice.  The words had vanished from her\nmemory when she awoke, but she knew that their purport had been sorrowful\nand of ill omen.\n\nSpite of the vagueness of the monition, it disturbed her, and the\noutcries rising from the pastures certainly were not evoked by joy that\nthe people had joined her brothers and the first goal of their wanderings\nhad been successfully gained, as the old man at her side supposed; no,\nthey were the furious shouts of wrathful, undisciplined men, wrangling\nand fighting with fierce hostility on the meadow for a good place to\npitch their tents or the best spot at the wells or on the brink of the\ncanals to water their cattle.\n\nWrath, disappointment, despair echoed in the shouts, and when her gaze\nsought the point whence they rose loudest, she saw the corpse of a woman\nborne on a piece of tent-cloth by railing bondmen and a pale, death-\nstricken infant held on the arm of a half naked, frantic man, its father,\nwho shook his disengaged hand in menace toward the spot where she saw her\nbrothers.\n\nThe next moment she beheld a grey-haired old man, bowed by heavy toil,\nraise his fist against Moses.  He would have struck him, had he not been\ndragged away by others.\n\nShe could not bear to stay longer on the roof.  Pale and panting for\nbreath, she hurried to the camp.  Milcah followed, and wherever they\nencountered people who lived in Succoth, they received respectful\ngreetings.\n\nThe new comers from Zoan,--as the Hebrews called Tanis,--Pha-kos, and\nBubastis, whom they met on the way, did not know Miriam, yet the tall\nfigure and stately dignity of the prophetess led them also to make way\nrespectfully or pause to answer her questions.\n\nThe things she learned were evil and heart-rending; for joyously as the\nprocession had marched forward on the first day, it dragged along sadly\nand hopelessly on the second.  The desert wind had robbed many of the\nstrong of their power of resistance and energy; others, like the\nbondman's wife and nursling, had been attacked by fever on the pilgrimage\nthrough the dust and the oppressive heat of the day, and they pointed out\nto her the procession which was approaching the burial-place of the\nHebrews of Succoth.  Those who were being conveyed to the bourn whence\nthere is no return were not only women and children, or those who had\nbeen brought from their homes ill, that they might not be left behind,\nbut also men who were in robust health the day before and had broken down\nunder burdens too heavy for their strength, or who had recklessly exposed\nthemselves, while working, to the beams of the noon-day sun.\n\nIn one tent, where a young mother was shaking with the chill of a severe\nattack of fever, Miriam asked the pallid Milcah to bring her medicine\nchest, and the desolate wife went on her errand with joyous alacrity.\nOn the way she stopped many and timidly asked about her captive husband,\nbut could obtain no news of him.  Miriam, however, heard from Nun,\nHosea's father, that Eliab, the freedman whom he had left behind, had\ninformed him that his son would be ready to join his people.  She also\nlearned that the wounded Ephraim had found shelter in his uncle's tent.\n\nWas the lad's illness serious, or what other cause detained Hosea in\nTanis?  These questions filled Miriam's heart with fresh anxiety, yet\nwith rare energy she nevertheless lavished help and comfort wherever she\nwent.\n\nOld Nun's cordial greeting had cheered her, and a more vigorous, kind,\nand lovable old man could not be imagined.\n\nThe mere sight of his venerable head, with its thick snow-white hair and\nbeard, his regular features, and eyes sparkling with the fire of youth,\nwas a pleasure to her, and as, in his vivacious, winning manner, he\nexpressed his joy at meeting her again, as he drew her to his heart and\nkissed her brow, after she had told him that, in the name of the Most\nHigh, she had called Hosea \"Joshua\" and summoned him back to his people\nthat he might command their forces, she felt as if she had found in him\nsome compensation for her dead father's loss, and devoted herself with\nfresh vigor to the arduous duties which everywhere demanded her\nattention.\n\nAnd it was no trivial matter for the high-souled maiden to devote\nherself, with sweet self-sacrifice, to those whose roughness and uncouth\nmanners wounded her.  The women, it is true, gladly accepted her aid, but\nthe men, who had grown up under the rod of the overseer, knew neither\nreserve nor consideration.  Their natures were as rude as their persons\nand when, as soon as they learned her name, they began to assail her with\nharsh reproaches, asserting that her brother had lured them from an\nendurable situation to plunge them into the most horrible position, when\nshe heard imprecations and blasphemy, and saw the furious wrath of the\nblack eyes that flashed in the brown faces framed by masses of tangled\nhair and beards, her heart failed her.\n\nBut she succeeded in mastering dread and aversion, and though her heart\nthrobbed violently, and she expected to meet the worst, she reminded\nthose who were repulsive to her and from whom her woman's weakness urged\nher to flee, of the God of their fathers and His promises.\n\nShe now thought she knew what the sorrowful warning voice under the\nsycamore had portended, and beside the couch of the young dying mother\nshe raised her hands and heart to Heaven and took an oath unto the Most\nHigh that she would exert every power of her being to battle against the\nfaint-hearted lack of faith and rude obstinacy, which threatened to\nplunge the people into sore perils.  Jehovah had promised them the\nfairest future and they must not be robbed of it by the short-sightedness\nand defiance of a few deluded individuals; but God himself could scarcely\nbe wroth with those who, content if their bodily wants were satisfied,\nhad unresistingly borne insults and blows like cattle.  The multitude\neven now did not realize that they must pass through the darkness of\nmisery to be worthy of the bright day that awaited them.\n\nThe medicines administered by Miriam seemed to relieve the sufferer, and\nfilled with fresh confidence, she left the tent to seek her brothers.\n\nThere had been little change in the state of affairs in the camp, and she\nagain beheld scenes from which she recoiled and which made her regret\nthat the sensitive Milcah was her companion.\n\nSome rascally bondmen who had seized cattle and utensils belonging to\nothers had been bound to a palmtree, and the ravens that followed the\nprocession; and had found ample sustenance on the way, now croaked\ngreedily around the quickly established place of execution.\n\nNo one knew who had been judge or executioner of the sentence; but those\nwho took part in the swift retribution considered it well justified, and\nrejoiced in the deed.\n\nWith rapid steps and averted head Miriam drew the trembling Milcah on and\ngave her to the care of her uncle Naashon to lead home.  The latter had\njust parted from the man who with him ruled the sons of Judah as a prince\nof the tribe--Hur, who at the head of the shepherds had won the first\nvictory against the Egyptians, and who now led to the maiden with joyful\npride a man and a boy, his son and grandson.  Both had been in the\nservice of the Egyptians, practising the trade of goldsmith and worker in\nmetals for Pharaoh at Memphis.  The former's skill had won him the name\nof Uri, which in Egyptian means 'great', and this artificer's son\nBezaleel, Hur's grandson, though scarcely beyond boyhood, was reputed to\nsurpass his father in the gifts of genius.\n\nHur gazed with justifiable pride at son and grandson; for though both had\nattained much consideration among the Egyptians they had followed their\nfather's messenger without demur, leaving behind them many who were dear\nto their hearts, and the property gained in Memphis, to join their\nwandering nation and share its uncertain destiny.\n\nMiriam greeted the new arrivals with the utmost warmth, and the men who,\nrepresenting three generations, stood before her, presented a picture on\nwhich the eyes of any well-disposed person could not fail to rest with\npleasure.\n\nThe grandfather was approaching his sixtieth year, and though many\nthreads of silver mingled with his ebon-black hair, he held himself as\nerect as a youth, while his thin, sharply-cut features expressed the\nunyielding determination, which explained his son's and grandson's prompt\nobedience to his will.\n\nUri, too, was a stately man, and Bezaleel a youth who showed that he had\nindustriously utilized his nineteen years and already attained an\nindependent position.  His artist eye sparkled with special brilliancy,\nand after he and his father had taken leave of Miriam to greet Caleb,\ntheir grandfather and great-grandfather, she heartily congratulated the\nman who was one of her brother's most loyal friends, upon such scions of\nhis noble race.\n\nHur seized her hand and, with a warmth of emotion gushing from a grateful\nheart that was by no means usual to the stern, imperious nature of this\nchief of an unruly shepherd tribe, exclaimed:\n\n\"Ay, they have remained good, true, and obedient.  God has guarded them\nand prepared this day of happiness for me.  Now it depends on you to make\nit the fairest of all festivals.  You must have long perceived that my\neyes have followed you and that you have been dear to my heart.  To work\nfor our people and their welfare is my highest aim as a man, yours as a\nwoman, and that is a strong bond.  But I desired to have a still firmer\none unite us, and since your parents are dead, and I cannot go with the\nbridal dower to Amram, to buy you from him, I now bring my suit to you in\nperson, high-souled maiden.  But ere you say yes or no, you should learn\nthat my son and grandson are ready to pay you the same honor as head of\nour household that they render me, and your brothers willingly permitted\nme to approach you as a suitor.\"\n\nMiriam had listened to this offer in silent surprise.  She had a high\nesteem and warm regard for the man who so fervently desired her love.\nSpite of his age, he stood before her in the full flush of manhood and\nstately dignity, and the beseeching expression of eyes whose glance was\nwont to be so imperious and steadfast stirred the inmost depths of her\nsoul.\n\nShe, however, was waiting with ardent longing for another, so her sole\nanswer was a troubled shake of the head.\n\nBut this man of mature years, a prince of his tribe, who was accustomed\nto carry his plans persistently into execution, undeterred by her mute\nrefusal, continued even more warmly than before.\n\n\"Do not destroy in one short moment the yearning repressed with so much\ndifficulty for years!  Do you object to my age?\"\n\nMiriam shook her head a second time, but Hur went on:\n\n\"That was the source of my anxiety, though I can still vie with many a\nyounger man in vigor.  But, if you can overlook your lover's grey hairs,\nperhaps you may be induced to weigh the words he now utters.  Of the\nfaith and devotion of my soul I will say nothing.  No man of my years\nwoos a woman, unless his heart's strong impulse urges him on.  But there\nis something else which, meseems, is of equal import.  I said that I\nwould lead you to my house.  Yonder it stands, a building firm and\nspacious enough; but from to-morrow a tent will be our home, the camp\nour dwelling-place, and there will be wild work enough within its bounds.\nNo one is secure, not even of life, least of all a woman, however strong\nshe may be, who has made common cause with those against whom thousands\nmurmur.  Your parents are dead, your brothers might protect you, but\nshould the people lay hands on them, the same stones on which you cross\nthe stream would drag you down into the depths with them.\"\n\n\"And were I your wife, you also,\" replied Miriam, her thick eye-brows\ncontracting in a heavy frown.\n\n\"I will take the risk,\" Hur answered.  \"The destinies of all are in God's\nhands, my faith is as firm as yours, and behind me stands the tribe of\nJudah, who follow me and Naashon as the sheep follow the shepherds.  Old\nNun and the Ephraimites are with us, and should matters come to the\nworst, it would mean perishing according to God's will, or in faithful\nunion, power, and prosperity, awaiting old age in the Promised Land.\"\n\nMiriam fearlessly gazed full into his stern eyes, laid her hand on his\narm, and answered: \"Those words are worthy of the man whom I have honored\nfrom childhood, and who has reared such sons; but I cannot be your wife.\"\n\n\"You cannot?\"\n\n\"No, my lord, I cannot.\"\n\n\"A hard sentence, but it must suffice,\" replied the other, his head\ndrooping in sorrow; but Miriam exclaimed:\n\n\"Nay, Hur, you have a right to ask the cause of my refusal, and because I\nhonor you, I owe you the truth.  Another man of our race reigns in my\nheart.  He met me for the first time when I was still a child.  Like your\nson and grandson, he has lived among the Egyptians, but the summons of\nour God and of his father reached him as did the message to your sons,\nand like Uri and Bezaleel, he showed himself obedient.  If he still\ndesires to wed me, I shall become his wife, if it is the will of the God\nwhom I serve, and who shows me the favor of suffering me to hear his\nvoice.  But I shall think of you with gratitude forever.\"\n\nHer large eyes had been glittering through tears as she uttered the\nwords, and there was a tremor in the grey-haired lover's voice as he\nasked in hesitating, embarrassed tones:\n\n\"And if the man for whom you are waiting--I do not ask his name--shuts\nhis ears to the call that has reached him, if he declines to share the\nuncertain destiny of his people?\"\n\n\"That will never happen!\"  Miriam interrupted, a chill creeping through\nher veins, but Hur exclaimed:\n\n\"There is no 'never,' no 'surely,' save with God.  If, spite of your firm\nfaith, the result should be different from your expectations, will you\nresign to the Lord the wish which began to stir in your heart, when you\nwere still a foolish child?\"\n\n\"He who has guided me until now will show me the right way.\"\n\n\"Well then,\" replied Hur, \"put your trust in Him, and if the man of your\nchoice is worthy of you, and becomes your lord, my soul will rejoice\nwithout envy when the Most High blesses your union.  But if God wills\notherwise, and you need a strong arm for your support, I am here.  The\ntent and the heart of Hur will ever be open to you.\"\n\nWith these words he turned away; but Miriam gazed thoughtfully after him\nas long as the old chief's stately figure was visible.\n\nAt last, still pondering, she moved toward her host's house, but at the\nroad leading to Tanis, she paused and gazed northward.  The dust had\nsubsided, and she could see a long distance, but the one person whom it\nwas to lead back to her and to his people did not appear.  Sighing sadly,\nshe moved onward with drooping head, and started violently when her\nbrother Moses' deep voice called to her from the old sycamore.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\nAaron and Eleasar, with fiery eloquence, had reminded the murmuring,\ndisheartened people of the power and promises of their God.  Whoever had\nstretched his limbs undisturbed to comfortable rest, whoever had been\nstrengthened by food and drink regained the confidence that had been\nlost.  The liberated bondmen were told of the hard labor and dishonoring\nblows which they had escaped and admonished that they must recognize as\nGod's dispensation, among other things, that Pharaoh had not pursued\nthem; but the rich booty still found in the plundered storehouse had no\nsmall share in the revival of their drooping courage, and the bondmen and\nlepers--for many of the latter had accompanied them and rested outside\nthe camp--in short, all for whose support Pharaoh had provided, saw\nthemselves safe for a long time from care and privation.  Yet there was\nno lack of malcontents, and here and there, though no one knew who\ninstigated the question, loud discussion arose whether it would not be\nmore advisable to return to Pharaoh and rely on his favor.  Whoever\nraised it, did the work secretly, and was often compelled to submit to\nsharp, threatening retorts.\n\nMiriam had talked with her brothers and shared the heavy anxieties that\noppressed them.  Why had the desert wind so speedily destroyed the\ncourage of the people during their brief pilgrimage?  How impatient, how\nweak in faith, how rebellious they had showed themselves at the first\nobstacle they had encountered, how uncontrollable they had been in\nfollowing their fierce impulses.  When summoned to prayer just before\nsunrise during their journey, some had turned toward the day-star rising\nin the east, others had taken out a small idol they had brought with\nthem, and others still had uplifted their eyes to the Nile acacia, which\nin some provinces of Egypt was regarded as a sacred tree.  What did they\nknow of the God who had commanded them to cast so much behind them and\ntake upon themselves such heavy burdens?  Even now many were despairing,\nthough they had confronted no serious dangers; for Moses had intended to\nlead the Hebrews in Succoth over the road to Philistia direct to the\nPromised Land in Palestine, but the conduct of the people forced him to\nresign this plan and form another.\n\nTo reach the great highway connecting Asia and Africa it was necessary to\ncross the isthmus, which rather divided than united the two continents;\nfor it was most thoroughly guarded from intruders and, partly by natural,\npartly by artificial obstacles, barred the path of every fugitive; a\nseries of deep lakes rolled their waves upon its soil, and where these\ndid not stay the march of the travelers strong fortifications, garrisoned\nby trained Egyptian troops, rose before them.\n\nThis chain of forts was called Chetam--or in the Hebrew tongue--Etham,\nand wayfarers leaving Succoth would reach the nearest and strongest of\nthese forts in a few hours.\n\nWhen the tribes, full of enthusiasm for their God, and ready for the most\narduous enterprises, shook off their chains and, exulting in their new\nliberty, rushed forward to the Promised Land Moses, and with him the\nmajority of the elders, had believed that, like a mountain torrent,\nbursting dams and sluices, they would destroy and overthrow everything\nthat ventured to oppose their progress.  With these enthusiastic masses,\nto whom bold advance would secure the highest good, and timid hesitation\ncould bring nothing save death and ruin, they had expected to rush over\nthe Etham line as if it were a pile of faggots.  But now since a short\nchain of difficulties and suffering had stifled the fire of their souls,\nnow that wherever the eye turned, there were two calm and five\ndissatisfied or anxious individuals to one upheld by joyous anticipation,\nto storm the Etham line would have cost rivers of blood and moreover\njeopardized all that had been already gained.\n\nThe overpowering of the little garrison in the storehouse of Pithom had\noccurred under specially favorable circumstances, which could hardly be\nexpected to happen again, so the original plan must be changed, and an\nattempt made to take a circuit around the fortifications.  Instead of\nmoving toward the northeast, the tribes must turn southward.\n\nBut, ere carrying this plan into execution, Moses, accompanied by a few\ntrusty men, desired to examine the new route and ascertain whether it\nwould be passable for the great wandering people.\n\nThese matters were discussed under the great sycamore in front of\nAmminadab's house, and Miriam was present, a mute witness.\n\nWomen,--even those like herself,--were forced to keep silence when men\nwere holding counsel; yet it was hard for her to remain speechless when\nit was decided to abstain from attacking the forts, even should the\ntrained warrior, Hosea, whom God Himself had chosen to be his sword,\nreturn to his people.\n\n\"What avails the best leader, if there is no army to obey him?\"  Naashon,\nAmminadab's son, had exclaimed, and the others shared his opinion.\n\nWhen the council finally broke up, Moses took leave of his sister with\nfraternal affection.  She knew that he was in the act of plunging into\nfresh dangers and--in the modest manner in which she was always wont to\naccost the brother who so far surpassed all others in every gift of mind\nand body,--expressed her anxiety.  He looked into her eyes with friendly\nreproach and raised his right hand toward heaven; but she understood his\nmeaning, and kissing his hand with grateful warmth, replied:\n\n\"You stand under the protection of the Most High, and I fear no longer.\"\n\nPressing his lips upon her brow, he bade her give him a tablet, wrote a\nfew words on it, flung it into the hollow trunk of the sycamore, and said:\n\n\"For Hosea, no, for Joshua, the son of Nun, if he comes while I am\nabsent.  The Lord has great deeds for him to accomplish, when he learns\nto expect loftier things from the Most High than from the mighty ones of\nearth.\"\n\nWith these words he left her; but Aaron who, as the oldest, was the head\nof her tribe, lingered and told her that a man of worth sought her hand.\nMiriam, with blanching face, replied:\n\n\"I know it......\"\n\nHe looked at her in surprise and with earnest monition, added:\n\n\"As you choose; yet it will be wise to consider this.  Your heart belongs\nto your God and to your people, and the man whom you wed must be ready,\nlike yourself, to serve both; for two must be one in marriage, and if the\nhighest aim of one is not also that of the other, they will remain two\ntill the end.  The voice of the senses, which drew them together, will\nsoon be mute and nothing will be left to them save discord.\"\n\nHaving said this, he went away, and she, too, was preparing to leave the\nothers; for on the eve of departure she might be needed in the house\nwhose hospitality she enjoyed.  But a new incident detained her, as\nthough bound with fetters, under the sycamore.\n\nWhat cared she for the packing of perishable wares and providing for\nbodily needs, when affairs which occupied her whole soul were under\ndiscussion!  Elisheba, Naashon's wife, any housekeeper and faithful slave\ncould attend to the former wants.  Higher things were to be determined\nhere--the weal  or woe of her people.\n\nSeveral men of distinction in the tribes had joined the elders under the\nsycamore; but Hur had already departed with Moses.\n\nUri, the son of the former, now appeared beneath the ancient tree.  The\nworker in metals, who had just come from Egypt, had talked in Memphis\nwith persons who were near to the king and learned that Pharaoh was ready\nto remove great burdens from the Hebrews and grant them new favors, if\nMoses would render the God whom he served propitious to him and induce\nthe people to return after they had offered sacrifices in the wilderness.\nTherefore it would be advisable to send envoys to Tanis and enter into\nnegotiations with the Sublime Porte.\n\nThese proposals, which Uri had not yet ventured to moot to his father,\nhe, with good intentions, brought before the assembled elders; he hoped\nthat their acceptance might spare the people great suffering.  But\nscarcely had he concluded his clear and convincing speech, when old Nun,\nHosea's father, who had with difficulty held his feelings in check, broke\nin.\n\nThe old man's face, usually so cheerful, glowed with wrath, and its fiery\nhue formed a strange contrast to the thick white locks which framed it.\nA few hours before he had heard Moses repel similar propositions with\nharsh decision and crushing reasons; now he had heard them again brought.\nforward and noted many a gesture of assent among the listeners, and saw\nthe whole great enterprise imperilled, the enterprise for whose success\nhe had himself risked and sacrificed more than any other man.\n\nThis was too much for the active old man who, with flashing eyes and hand\nupraised in menace, burst forth \"What do you mean?  Are we to pick up the\nends of the rope the Lord our God has severed?  Do you counsel us to\nfasten it anew, with a looser knot, which will hold as long as the whim\nof a vacillating weakling who has broken his promises to us and to Moses\na score of times?  Do you wish to lead us back to the cage whence the\nAlmighty released us by a miracle?  Are we to treat the Lord our God like\na bad debtor and prefer the spurious gold ring we are offered to the\nroyal treasures He promises?  Oh, messenger from the Egyptians--\nI would .  .  .  .\"\n\nHere the hot-blooded grey-beard raised his clenched fist in menace but,\nere he had uttered the threat that hovered on his lips, he let his arm\nfall; for Gabriel, the oldest member of the tribe of Zebulun, shouted:\n\n\"Remember your own son, who is to-day among the foes of his people.\"\n\nThe words struck home; yet they only dimmed the fiery old man's glad\nself-reliance a moment and, amid the voices uttering disapproval of the\nmalicious Gabriel and the few who upheld the Zebulunite, he cried:\n\n\"And because I am perhaps in danger of losing, not only the ten thousand\nacres of land I flung behind me, but a noble son, it is my right to speak\nhere.\"\n\nHis broad chest heaved with his labored breathing and his eyes, shadowed\nby thick white brows, rested with a milder expression on the son of Hur,\nwhose face had paled at his vehement words, as he continued:\n\n\"Uri is a good and dutiful son to his father and has also been obliged to\nmake great sacrifices in leaving the place where his work was so much\npraised and his own house in Memphis.  The blessing of the Most High will\nnot fail him.  But for the very reason that he has hitherto obeyed the\ncommand, he must not now seek to destroy what we have commenced under the\nguidance of the Most High.  To you, Gabriel, I answer that my son\nprobably will not tarry among our foes, but obedient to my summons,\nwill join us, like Uri, the first-born of Hur.  What still detains him is\ndoubtless some important matter of which Hosea will have as little cause\nto be ashamed as I, his father.  I know and trust him, and whoever\nexpects aught else will sooner or later, by my son's course of action,\nbe proved a liar.\"\n\nHere he paused to push his white hair back from his burning brow and,\nas no one contradicted him, he turned to the worker in metals, and added\nwith cordial friendliness:\n\n\"What angered me, Uri, was certainly not your purpose.  That is a good\none; but you have measured the greatness and majesty of the God of our\nfathers by the standard of the false gods of the Egyptians, who die and\nrise again and, as Aaron has just said, represent only minor attributes\nof Him who is in all and transcends everything.  To serve God, until\nMoses taught me a better counsel, I deemed meant to sacrifice an ox, a\nlamb, or a goose upon the altar like the Egyptians; but your eyes, as\nbefell me through Moses, will not be opened to Him who rules the world\nand has made us His people, until, like me, you, and all of us, and\nprobably my son also, shall each have kindled in his own breast the\nsacrificial fire which never goes out and consumes everything that does\nnot relate to Him in love and loyalty, faith and reverence.  Through\nMoses, His servant, God has promised us the greatest blessings--\ndeliverance from bondage, the privilege of ruling on our own land as free\nmen in a beautiful country, our own possession and the heritage of our\nchildren.  We are going forth to receive His gift, and whoever seeks to\nstop us on our way, whoever urges us to turn and creep back into the net\nwhose brazen meshes we have burst, advises his people to run once more\nlike sheep into the fire from which they have escaped.  I am not angry\nwith you; your face shows that you perceive how foolishly you have erred;\nbut all ye who are here must know that I heard only a few hours ago from\nMoses' own lips these words: 'Whoever counsels return and the making of\ncovenants with the Egyptians, I will denounce as a scorner of Jehovah our\nGod, and the destroyer and worst foe of his people!'\"\n\nUri went to the old man, gave him his hand, and deeply convinced of the\njustice of his reproaches, exclaimed:  \"No treaty, no covenant with the\nEgyptians!  I am grateful to you, Nun, for opening my eyes.  To me, also,\nthe hour will doubtless come in which you, or some one who stands nearer\nto Him than I, will teach me to know your God, who is also mine.\"\n\nAs he ceased speaking, he went away with Nun, who put his arm around his\nshoulders; but Miriam had listened breathlessly to Uri's last words, and\nas he expressed a desire to know the God of his people, her eyes had\nsparkled with the light of enthusiasm.  She felt that her soul was filled\nwith the greatness of the Most High and that she had the gift of speech\nto make another familiar with the knowledge she herself possessed.  But\nthis time also custom required her to keep silence.  Her heart ached, and\nas she again moved among the multitude and convinced herself that Hosea\nhad not yet come, she went home, as twilight was beginning to gather, and\njoined the others on the roof.\n\nNo one there appeared to have missed her, not even poor melancholy\nMilcah, and she felt unutterably lonely in this house.\n\nIf Hosea would only come, if she might have a strong breast on which to\nlean, if this sense of being a stranger in her own home, this useless\nlife beneath the roof she was obliged to call hers, though she never felt\nthoroughly at home under it, would but cease.  Moses and Aaron, too, had\ngone away, taking Hur's grandson with them; but no one had deemed her,\nwho lived and breathed solely for her people and their welfare, worthy\nto learn whither their journey led or what was its purpose.\n\nWhy had the God to whom she devoted her whole life and being made her a\nwoman, yet given her the mind and soul of a man?\n\nShe waited, as if to test whether any of the circle of kindly-natured\npeople to which she belonged really loved her, for some one of the elders\nor the children to accost her; but Eleasar's little ones were pressing\naround their grandparents, and she had never understood how to make\nherself agreeable to children.  Elisheba was directing the slaves who\nwere putting the finishing touches to the packing; Milcah sat with her\ncat in her lap, gazing into vacancy.  No one heeded or spoke to her.\n\nBitter pain overpowered Miriam, and after she had shared the evening meal\nwith the others, and forced herself not to disturb by her own sorrowful\nmood, the joyous excitement of the children, who looked forward to the\npilgrimage as a great pleasure, she longed to go out of doors.\n\nClosely veiled, she passed alone through the camp and what she beheld\nthere was certainly ill-suited to dispel the mood that oppressed her.\nThere was plenty of noise, and though sometimes devout hymns, full of joy\nand hope, echoed on the air, she heard far more frequently savage\nquarrelling and rebellious words.  When her ear caught threats or\nreproaches levelled against her noble brother, she quickened her pace,\nbut she could not escape her anxiety concerning what would happen at the\ndeparture after sunrise on the morrow, should the malcontents obtain\nsupremacy.\n\nShe knew that the people would be forced to press forward; but her dread\nof Pharaoh's military power had never permitted her to be at peace--to\nher it was as it were embodied in Hosea's heroic figure.  If the Lord\nHimself did not fight in the ranks of the wretched bondmen and shepherds\nwho were quarrelling and disputing around her, how were they to withstand\nthe well-trained and equipped hosts of the Egyptians, with their horses\nand chariots?\n\nShe had heard that guards had been posted in all parts of the camp, with\norders to sound the horn or strike the cymbal at the approach of the foe,\nuntil the men had flocked to the spot whence the warning first echoed.\n\nShe had long listened for such an alarm, yet how much more intently for\nthe hoof-beats of a single steed, the firm step and deep voice of the\nwarrior for whom she yearned.  On his account she constantly returned to\nthe northern part of the camp which adjoined the road coming from Tanis\nand where now, at Moses' bidding, the tents of most of the men capable of\nbearing arms were pitched.  Here she had hoped to find true confidence;\nbut as she listened to the talk of the armed soldiers who surrounded the\ncamp-fires in dense circles, she heard that Uri's proposal had reached\nthem also.  Most of them were husbands and fathers, had left behind a\nhouse, a bit of land, a business, or an office, and though many spoke of\nthe command of the Most High and the beautiful new home God had promised,\nnot a few were disposed to return.  How gladly she would have gone among\nthese blinded mortals and exhorted them to obey with fresh faith and\nconfidence the command of the Lord and of her brother.  But here, too,\nshe was forced to keep silence.  She was permitted to listen only, and\nshe was most strongly attracted to the very places where she might expect\nto hear rebellious words and proposals.\n\nThere was a mysterious charm in this cruel excitement and she felt as if\nshe were deprived of something desirable when many a fire was\nextinguished, the soldiers went to sleep, and conversation ceased.\n\nShe now turned for the last time toward the road leading from Tanis; but\nnothing was stirring there save the sentries pacing to and fro.\n\nShe had not yet doubted Hosea's coming; for the summons she had sent to\nhim in the name of the Lord had undoubtedly reached him; but now that the\nstars showed her it was past midnight, the thought came vividly before\nher mind of the many years he had spent among the Egyptians, and that he\nmight perhaps deem it unworthy of a man to obey the call of a woman,\neven if she uplifted her voice in the name of the Most High.  She had\nexperienced humiliations enough that day, why should not this be decreed\nalso?\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV.\n\nDeeply disturbed and tortured by such thoughts, Miriam walked toward\nAmminadab's house to seek repose; but just as she was in the act of\ncrossing the threshold, she paused and again listened for sounds coming\nfrom the north.\n\nHosea must arrive from that direction.\n\nBut she heard nothing save the footsteps of a sentinel and the voice of\nHur, who was patrolling the camp with a body of armed men.\n\nHe, too, had been unable to stay in the house.\n\nThe night was mild and starry, the time seemed just suited for dreams\nunder the sycamore.  Her bench beneath the venerable tree was empty, and\nwith drooping head she approached the beloved resting-place, which she\nmust leave forever on the morrow.\n\nBut ere she had reached the spot so close at hand, she paused with her\nfigure drawn up to its full height and her hand pressed upon her\nthrobbing bosom.  This time she was not mistaken, the beat of hoofs\nechoed on the air, and it came from the north.\n\nWere Pharaoh's chariots approaching to attack the camp?  Should she shout\nto wake the warriors?  Or could it be he whom she so longingly expected?\nYes, yes, yes!  It was the tramp of a single steed, and must be a new\narrival; for there were loud voices in the tents, the dogs barked, and\nshouts, questions, and answers came nearer and nearer with the rider.\n\nIt was Hosea, she felt sure.  His riding alone through the night,\nreleased from the bonds that united him to Pharaoh and his comrades in\narms, was a sign of his obedience!  Love had steeled his will and\nquickened the pace of his steed, and the gratitude of answering\naffection, the reward she could bestow, should be withheld no longer.\nIn her arms he should blissfully perceive that he had resigned great\npossessions to obtain something still fairer and sweeter!  She felt as\nthough the darkness around had suddenly brightened into broad day, as her\near told her that the approaching horseman was riding straight toward the\nhouse of her host Amminadab.  She now knew that he was obeying her\nsummons, that he had come to find her.  Hosea was seeking her ere he went\nto his own father, who had found shelter in the big empty house of his\ngrandson, Ephraim.\n\nHe would gladly have dashed toward her at the swiftest pace of his steed,\nbut it would not do to ride rapidly through the camp.  Ah, how long the\ntime seemed ere she at last saw the horseman, ere he swung himself to the\nground, and his companion flung the reins of the horse to a man who\nfollowed him.\n\nIt was he, it was Hosea!\n\nBut his companion--she had recognized him distinctly and shrank a little\n--his companion was Hur, the man who a few hours before had sought her\nfor his wife.\n\nThere stood her two suitors side by side in the starlight, illumined by\nthe glare of the pitch torches blazing beside the carts and household\nutensils which had been packed for the morrow's journey.\n\nThe tall figure of the elder Hebrew towered over the sinewy form of the\nwarrior, and the shepherd prince bore himself no whit less erect than the\nEgyptian hero.  Both voices sounded earnest and manly, yet her lover's\nseemed to Miriam stronger and deeper.  They had now advanced so near that\nshe could understand their conversation.\n\nHur was telling the newcomer that Moses had gone on a reconnoitring\nexpedition, and Hosea was expressing his regret, because he had important\nmatters to discuss with him.\n\nThen he must set out with the tribes the next morning, Hur replied, for\nMoses intended to join them on the way.\n\nThen he pointed to Amminadab's house, from which no ray of light gleamed\nthrough the darkness, and asked Hosea to spend the remainder of the night\nbeneath his roof, as he probably would not wish yo disturb his aged\nfather at so late an hour.\n\nMiriam saw her friend hesitate and gaze intently up to the women's\napartments and the roof of her host's house.  Knowing what he sought, she\ncould no longer resist the impulse of her heart, but stepped forth from\nthe shadow of the sycamore and gave Hosea a cordial and tender welcome.\n\nHe, too, disdained to conceal the joy of his heart, and Hur stood beside\nthe reunited lovers, as they clasped each other's hands, and exchanged\ngreetings, at first mutely, then with warm words.\n\n\"I knew you would come!\"  cried the maiden, and Hosea answered with\njoyful emotion.\n\n\"You might easily suppose so, oh Prophetess; for your own voice was among\nthose that summoned me here.\"\n\nThen in a calmer tone, he added: \"I hoped to find your brother also; I am\nthe bearer of a message of grave import to him, to us, and to the people.\nI see that you, too, are ready to depart and should grieve to behold the\ncomfort of your aged hosts destroyed by hasty acts that may yet be\nneedless.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"  asked Hur, advancing a step nearer to the other.\n\"I mean,\" replied Hosea, \"that if Moses persists in leading the tribes\neastward, much blood will flow uselessly to-morrow; for I learned at\nTanis that the garrison of Etham has been ordered to let no man pass,\nstill less the countless throng, whose magnitude surprised me as I rode\nthrough the camp.  I know Apu, who commands the fortifications and the\nlegions whom he leads.  There would be a terrible, fruitless massacre of\nour half-armed, untrained people, there would be--in short, I have urgent\nbusiness to discuss with Moses, urgent and immediate, to avert the\nheaviest misfortune ere it is too late.\"\n\n\"What you fear has not escaped our notice,\" replied Hur, \"and it is in\norder to guard against this peril that Moses has set forth on a dangerous\nquest.\"\n\n\"Whither?\"  asked Hosea.\n\n\"That is the secret of the leaders of the tribes.\"\n\n\"Of which my father is one.\"\n\n\"Certainly; and I have already offered to take you to him.  If he assumes\nthe responsibility of informing you ...\"\n\n\"Should he deem it a breach of duty, he will keep silence.  Who is to\ncommand the wandering hosts tomorrow?\"\n\n\"I.\"\n\n\"You?\"  asked Hosea in astonishment, and Hur answered calmly:\n\n\"You marvel at the audacity of the shepherd who ventures to lead an army;\nbut the Lord of all armies, to whom we trust our cause, is our leader; I\nrely solely on His guidance.\"\n\n\"And so do I,\" replied Hosea.  \"No one save the God through whom Miriam\nsummoned me to this spot, entrusted me--of that I am confident--with the\nimportant message which brings me here.  I must find Moses ere it is too\nlate.\"\n\n\"You have already heard that he will be beyond the reach of any one,\nmyself included, until to-morrow, perhaps the day after.  Will you speak\nto Aaron?\"\n\n\"Is he in the camp?\"\n\n\"No; but we expect his return before the departure of the people, that is\nin a few hours.\"\n\n\"Has he the power to decide important matters in Moses' absence?\"\n\n\"No, he merely announces to the people in eloquent language what his\nillustrious brother commands.\"\n\nThe warrior bent his eyes with a disappointed expression on the ground,\nand after a brief pause for reflection eagerly added, fixing his gaze on\nMiriam:\n\n\"It is Moses to whom the Lord our God announces his will; but to you, his\naugust maiden sister, the Most High also reveals himself, to you .  .  .\"\n\n\"Oh, Hosea!\"  interrupted the prophetess, extending her hands toward him\nwith a gesture of mingled entreaty and warning; but the chief, instead of\nheeding her monition, went on:\n\n\"The Lord our God hath commanded you to summon me, His servant, back to\nthe people; He hath commanded you to give me the name for which I am to\nexchange the one my father and mother bestowed upon me, and which I have\nborne in honor for thirty years.  Obedient to your summons, I have cast\naside all that could make me great among men; but on my way through\nEgypt,--bearing in my heart the image of my God and of you,--braving\ndeath, the message I now have to deliver was entrusted to me, and I\nbelieve that it came from the Most High Himself.  It is my duty to convey\nit to the leaders of the people; but as I am unable to find Moses, I can\nconfide it to no better one than you who, though only a woman, stand,--\nnext to your brother--nearest to the Most High, so I implore you to\nlisten to me.  The tidings I bring are not yet ripe for the ears of a\nthird person.\"\n\nHur drew his figure to a still greater height and, interrupting Hosea,\nasked Miriam whether she desired to hear the son of Nun without\nwitnesses; she answered with a quiet \"yes.\"\n\nThen Hur turned haughtily and coldly to the warrior:\n\n\"I think that Miriam knows the Lord's will, as well as her brother's, and\nis aware of what beseems the women of Israel.  If I am not mistaken, it\nwas under this tree that your own father, the worthy Nun, gave to my son\nUri the sole answer which Moses must also make to every bearer of a\nmessage akin to yours.\"\n\n\"Do you know it?\"  asked Hosea in a tone of curt reproof.\n\n\"No,\" replied the other, \"but I suspect its purport, and look here.\"\n\nWhile speaking he stooped with youthful agility and, raising two large\nstones with his powerful arms, propped them against each other, rolled\nseveral smaller ones to their sides, and then, with panting breath,\nexclaimed:\n\n\"Let this heap be a witness between me and thee, like the stones named\nMizpah which Jacob and Laban erected.  And as the latter called upon the\nLord to watch between him and the other, so do I likewise.  I point to\nthis heap that you may remember it, when we are parted one from the\nother.  I lay my hand upon these stones and bear witness that I, Hur, son\nof Caleb and Ephrath, put my trust in no other than the Lord, the God of\nour fathers, and am ready to obey His command, which calls us forth from\nthe kingdom of Pharaoh into a land which He promised to us.  But of thee,\nHosea, son of Nun, I ask and the Lord our God hears thee: Dost thou, too,\nexpect no other help save from the God of Abraham, who has made thy race\nHis chosen people?  And wilt thou also testify whether thou wilt ever\nregard the Egyptians who oppressed us, and from whose bondage the Lord\nour God delivered us, as the mortal foes of thy God and of thy race?\"\n\nThe warrior's bearded features quivered, and he longed to overthrow the\nheap and answer the troublesome questioner with wrathful words, but\nMiriam had laid her hand on the top of the pile of stones, and clasping\nhis right hand, exclaimed:\n\n\"He is questioning you in the presence of our God and Lord, who is your\nwitness.\"\n\nHosea succeeded in controlling his wrath, and pressing the maiden's hand\nmore closely, he answered earnestly:\n\n\"He questions, but I may not answer; 'yea' or 'nay' will be of little\nservice here; but I, too, call God to witness, and before this heap you,\nMiriam, but you alone, shall hear what I propose and for what purpose I\nhave come.  Look, Hur!  Like you I lay my hand upon this heap and bear\nwitness that I, Hosea, son of Nun, put my sole trust in the Lord and God\nof our fathers.  He stands as a witness between me and thee, and shall\ndecide whether my way is His, or that of an erring mortal.  I will obey\nHis will, which He has made known to Moses and to this noble maiden.\nThis I swear by an oath whose witness is the Lord our God.\"\n\nHur had listened intently and, impressed by the earnestness of the words,\nnow exclaimed:\n\n\"The Lord our God has heard your vow and against your oath I, in the\npresence of this heap, take another: If the hour comes when, mindful of\nthis heap of stones, you give the testimony you have refused me, there\nshall henceforward be no ill-will between us, and if it is in accordance\nwith the will of the Most High, I will cheerfully resign to you the\noffice of commander, which you, trained in many wars, would be better\nsuited to fill than I, who hitherto have ruled only my flocks and\nshepherds.  But you, Miriam, I charge to remember that this heap of\nstones will also be a witness of the colloquy you are to hold with this\nman in the presence of God.  I remind you of the reproving words you\nheard beneath this tree from the lips of his father, and call God to\nwitness that I would have darkened the life of my son Uri, who is the joy\nof my heart, with a father's curse if he had gone among the people to\ninduce them to favor the message he brought; for it would have turned\nthose of little faith from their God.  Remember this, maiden, and let me\nsay again:\n\n\"If you seek me you will find me, and the door I opened will remain open\nto you, whatever may happen!\"\n\nWith these words Hur turned his back upon Miriam and the warrior.\n\nNeither knew what had befallen them, but he who during the long ride\nbeset by many a peril had yearned with ardent anticipations for the hour\nwhich was to once more unite him to the object of his love, gazed on the\nground full of bewilderment and profound anxiety, while Miriam who, at\nhis approach, had been ready to bestow upon him the highest, sweetest\ngifts with which a loving woman rewards fidelity and love, had sunk to\nthe earth before the ominous pile of stones close beside the tree and\npressed her forehead against its gnarled, hollow trunk.\n\n\n\n\nETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:\n\nBrief \"eternity\" of national covenants\nChoose between too great or too small a recompense\nRegard the utterances and mandates of age as wisdom\nThere is no 'never,' no surely\nVoice of the senses, which drew them together, will soon be mute","title":"Joshua \u2014 Volume 2","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":19944}