It had been no easy matter, in truth, to deter the younger of the
ill-treated bondsmen from this act of vengeance; but each one was a
member of some family, and when Hur's admonitions were supported by those
of the fathers and mothers, they not only allowed themselves to be
pacified, but aided the elders to distribute the contents of the
magazines among the heads of families and pack them on the beasts of
burden and into the carts which were to accompany the fugitives.

The work went forward amid the broad glare of torches, and became a new
festival; for neither Hur, Naashon, nor Eleasar could prevent the men and
women from opening the wine-jars and skins. They succeeded, however, in
preserving the lion's share of the precious booty for a time of need, and
thus averted much drunkenness, though the spirit of the grape-juice and
the pleasure in obtaining so rich a prize doubtless enhanced the grateful
excitement of the throng. When Eleasar finally went among them for the
second time to tell them of the Promised Land, men and women listened
with uplifted hearts, and joined in the hymn Miriam began to sing.

Devout enthusiasm now took possession of every heart in Succoth, as it
had done in Tanis during the hour that preceded the exodus, and when
seventy Hebrew men and women, who had concealed themselves in the temple
of Turn, heard the jubilant hymn, they came forth into the open air,
joined the others, and packed their possessions with as much glad
hopefulness and warm trust in the God of their fathers, as if they had
never shrunk from the departure.

As the stars sank lower in the heavens, the joyous excitement increased.
Men and women thronged the road to Tanis to meet their approaching
kindred. Many a father led his boy by the hand, and many a mother carried
her child in her arms; the multitude drawing near contained numerous
beloved relatives to be greeted, and the coming dawn could not fail to
bring solemn hours of which one would wish no beloved heart to be
deprived, and which would linger in the souls of the little ones till
they themselves had children and grandchildren.

No bed in tent, hovel, or house was occupied; for everywhere the final
packing was going on. The throng of workers at the granaries had
lessened; most of them were now supplied with as much food as they could
carry.

Men and women equipped for travelling lay around fires hurriedly lighted
in front of many tents and houses, and in the larger farms shepherds were
driving the cattle and slaughtering the oxen and sheep which were unable
to go with the people. The blows of axes and hammers and the creaking of
saws were heard in front of many a house; for litters to transport the
sick and feeble must be made. Carts and wains were still to be loaded,
and the heads of families had a hard task with the women; for a woman's
heart often clings more closely to things apparently worthless than to
those of the greatest value. When the weaver Rebecca was more eager to
find room in the cart for the rude cradle in which her darling had died,
than for the beautiful ebony chest inlaid with ivory an Egyptian had
pawned to her husband, who could blame her?

Light shone from all the window openings and tent doors, while from the
roofs of the largest houses the blaze of torches or lanterns greeted the
approaching Hebrews.

At the banquet served on the night of the harvest festival, no table had
lacked a roast lamb; during this hour of waiting the housewife offered
her family what she could.

The narrow streets of the humble little town were full of active life,
and never had the setting stars shone upon features so cheerful, eyes
sparkling so brightly with enthusiasm, and faces so transfigured by hope
and devout piety.




CHAPTER XII.

When morning dawned, all who had not gone down to meet the fugitives who
were to make their first long halt here, had assembled on the roof of one
of the largest houses in Succoth.

One after another fleet-footed man or boy, hurrying in advance of the
rest, had reached Succoth. Amminadab's house was the goal sought by the
majority. It consisted of two buildings, one occupied by Naashon, the
owner's son, and his family, the other, a larger dwelling, which
sheltered, besides the grey-haired owner and his wife, his son-in-law
Aaron with his wife, children, and grand-children, and Miriam. The aged
leader of his tribe, who had assigned the duties of his position to his
son Naashon, extended his hand to every messenger and listened to his
story with sparkling eyes, often dimmed by tears. He had induced his old
wife to sit in the armchair in which she was to be carried after the
people, that she might become accustomed to it, and for the same reason
he now occupied his own.

When the old dame heard the messengers boast that the fair future
promised to the people was now close at hand, her eyes often sought her
husband, and she exclaimed: "Yes, Moses!" for she held her son-in-law's
brother in high esteem, and rejoiced to see his prophecy fulfilled. The
old people were proud of Aaron, too; but all their love was lavished upon
Eleasar, their grandson, whom they beheld growing up into a second Moses.
Miriam had been for some time a new and welcome member of the household.
True, the warm-hearted old couple's liking for the grave maiden had not
increased to parental tenderness, and their daughter Elisheba, Aaron's
active wife, had no greater inclination to share the cares of the large
family with the prophetess than her son Naashon's spouse, who, moreover,
dwelt with her immediate family under her own roof. Yet the old people
owed Miriam a debt of gratitude for the care she bestowed upon their
granddaughter Milcah, the daughter of Aaron and Elisheba, whom a great
misfortune had transformed from a merry-hearted child into a melancholy
woman, whose heart seemed dead to every joy.

A few days after her marriage to a beloved husband the latter, carried
away by passion, had raised his hand against an Egyptian tax-gatherer,
who, while Pharaoh was passing through Succoth toward the east, had
attempted to drive off a herd of his finest cattle for "the kitchen of
the lord of both worlds." For this act of self-defence the hapless man
had been conveyed to the mines as a prisoner of state, and every one knew
that the convicts there perished, soul and body, from torturing labor far
beyond their strength. Through the influence of old Nun, Hosea's father,
the wife and relatives of the condemned man had been saved from sharing
his punishment, as the law prescribed. But Milcah languished under the
blow, and the only person who could rouse the pale, silent woman from
brooding over her grief was Miriam. The desolate heart clung to the
prophetess, and she accompanied her when she practised in the huts of the
poor the medical skill she had learned and took them medicines and alms.

The last messengers Amninadab and his wife received on the roof described
the hardships of the journey and the misery they had witnessed in dark
hues; but if one, more tender-hearted than the rest, broke into
lamentations over the sufferings endured by the women and children during
the prevalence of the desert wind, and recalling the worst horrors
impressed upon his memory, uttered mournful predictions for the future,
the old man spoke cheering words, telling him of the omnipotence of God,
and how custom would inure one to hardship. His wrinkled features
expressed firm confidence, while one could read in Miriam's beautiful,
yet stern countenance, little of the courageous hope, which youth is wont
to possess in a far higher degree than age.

During the arrival and departure of the messengers she did not quit the
old couple's side, leaving to her sister-in-law Elisheba and her servants
the duty of offering refreshments to the wearied men. She herself
listened intently, with panting breath, but what she heard seemed to
awaken her anxiety; for she knew that no one came to the house which
sheltered Aaron save those who were adherents of her brothers, the
leaders of the people. If such men's blitheness was already waning, what
must the outlook be to the lukewarm and refractory!

She rarely added a question of her own to those asked by the old man and,
when she did so, the messengers who heard her voice for the first time
looked at her in surprise; though musical, the tones were unusually deep.

After several messengers, in reply to her inquiries, declared that Hosea,
the son of Nun, had not come with the others, her head drooped and she
asked nothing more, till pallid Milcah, who followed her everywhere,
raised her dark eyes beseechingly and murmured the name of Reuben, her
captive husband. The prophetess kissed the poor desolate wife's forehead,
glanced at her as if she had neglected her in some way, and then
questioned the messengers with urgent eagerness concerning their news of
Reuben, who had been dragged to the mines. One only had learned from a
released prisoner that Milcah's husband was living in the copper mines of
the province of Bech, in the neighborhood of Mt. Sinai, and Miriam seized
upon these tidings to assure Milcah, with great vivacity and warmth, that
if the tribes moved eastward they would surely pass the mines and release
the Hebrews imprisoned there.

These were welcome words, and Milcah, who nestled to her comforter's
breast, would gladly have heard more; but great restlessness had seized
upon the people gazing into the distance from the roof of Amminadab's
house; a dense cloud of dust was approaching from the north, and soon
after a strange murmur arose, then a loud uproar, and finally shouts and
cries from thousands of voices, lowing, neighing, and bleating, such as
none of the listeners had ever heard,--and then on surged the many-limbed
and many-voiced multitude, the endless stream of human beings and herds,
which the astrologer's grandson on the observatory of the temple at Tanis
had mistaken for the serpent of the nether-world.

Now, too, in the light of early dawn, it might easily have been imagined
a host of bodiless spirits driven forth from the realms of the dead; for
a whitish-grey column of dust extending to the blue vault of heaven moved
before it, and the vast whole, with its many parts and voices, veiled by
the clouds of sand, had the appearance of a single form. Often, however,
a metal spear-head or a brazen kettle, smitten by a sunbeam, flashed
brightly, and individual voices, shouting loudly, fell upon the ear.

The foremost billows of the flood had now reached Amminadab's house,
before which pasture lands extended as far as the eye could reach.

Words of command rang on the air, the procession halted, dispersing as a
mountain lake overflows in spring, sending rivulets and streams hither
and thither; but the various small runlets speedily united, taking
possession of broad patches of the dewy pastures, and wherever such
portions of the torrent of human beings and animals rested, the shroud of
dust which had concealed them disappeared.

The road remained hidden by the cloud a long time, but on the meadows the
morning sunlight shone upon men, women, and children, cattle and donkeys,
sheep and goats, and soon tent after tent was pitched on the green sward
in front of the dwellings of Amminadab and Naashon, herds were surrounded
by pens, stakes and posts were driven into the hard ground, awnings were
stretched, cows were fastened to ropes, cattle and sheep were led to
water, fires were lighted, and long lines of women, balancing jars on
their heads, with their slender, beautifully curved arms, went to the
well behind the old sycamore or to the side of the neighboring canal.

This morning, as on every other working-day, a pied ox with a large hump
was turning the wheel that raised the water. It watered the land, though
the owner of the cattle intended to leave it on the morrow; but the slave
who drove it had no thought beyond the present and, as no one forbade
him, moistened as he was wont the grass for the foe into whose hands it
was to fall.

Hours elapsed ere the advancing multitude reached the camp, and Miriam
who stood describing to Amminadab, whose eyes were no longer keen enough
to discern distant objects, what was passing below, witnessed many an
incident from which she would fain have averted her gaze.

She dared not frankly tell the old man what she beheld, it would have
clouded his joyous hope.

Relying, with all the might of an inspired soul upon the God of her
fathers and his omnipotence, she had but yesterday fully shared
Amminadab's confidence; but the Lord had bestowed upon her spirit the
fatal gift of seeing things and hearing words incomprehensible to all
other human beings. Usually she distinguished them in dreams, but they
often came to her also in solitary hours, when she was deeply absorbed by
thoughts of the past or the future.

The words Ephraim had announced to Hosea in her name, as a message from
the Most High, had been uttered by unseen lips while she was thinking
under the sycamore of the exodus and the man whom she had loved from her
childhood--and when that day, between midnight and morning, she again sat
beneath the venerable tree and was overpowered by weariness, she had
believed she heard the same voice. The words had vanished from her memory
when she awoke, but she knew that their purport had been sorrowful and of
ill omen.

Spite of the vagueness of the monition, it disturbed her, and the
outcries rising from the pastures certainly were not evoked by joy that
the people had joined her brothers and the first goal of their wanderings
had been successfully gained, as the old man at her side supposed; no,
they were the furious shouts of wrathful, undisciplined men, wrangling
and fighting with fierce hostility on the meadow for a good place to
pitch their tents or the best spot at the wells or on the brink of the
canals to water their cattle.

Wrath, disappointment, despair echoed in the shouts, and when her gaze
sought the point whence they rose loudest, she saw the corpse of a woman
borne on a piece of tent-cloth by railing bondmen and a pale,
death-stricken infant held on the arm of a half naked, frantic man, its
father, who shook his disengaged hand in menace toward the spot where she
saw her brothers.

The next moment she beheld a grey-haired old man, bowed by heavy toil,
raise his fist against Moses. He would have struck him, had he not been
dragged away by others.

She could not bear to stay longer on the roof. Pale and panting for
breath, she hurried to the camp. Milcah followed, and wherever they
encountered people who lived in Succoth, they received respectful
greetings.

The new comers from Zoan,--as the Hebrews called Tanis,--Pha-kos, and
Bubastis, whom they met on the way, did not know Miriam, yet the tall
figure and stately dignity of the prophetess led them also to make way
respectfully or pause to answer her questions.

The things she learned were evil and heart-rending; for joyously as the
procession had marched forward on the first day, it dragged along sadly
and hopelessly on the second. The desert wind had robbed many of the
strong of their power of resistance and energy; others, like the
bondman's wife and nursling, had been attacked by fever on the pilgrimage
through the dust and the oppressive heat of the day, and they pointed out
to her the procession which was approaching the burial-place of the
Hebrews of Succoth. Those who were being conveyed to the bourn whence
there is no return were not only women and children, or those who had
been brought from their homes ill, that they might not be left behind,
but also men who were in robust health the day before and had broken down
under burdens too heavy for their strength, or who had recklessly exposed
themselves, while working, to the beams of the noon-day sun.

In one tent, where a young mother was shaking with the chill of a severe
attack of fever, Miriam asked the pallid Milcah to bring her medicine
chest, and the desolate wife went on her errand with joyous alacrity. On
the way she stopped many and timidly asked about her captive husband, but
could obtain no news of him. Miriam, however, heard from Nun, Hosea's
father, that Eliab, the freedman whom he had left behind, had informed
him that his son would be ready to join his people. She also learned that
the wounded Ephraim had found shelter in his uncle's tent.

Was the lad's illness serious, or what other cause detained Hosea in
Tanis? These questions filled Miriam's heart with fresh anxiety, yet with
rare energy she nevertheless lavished help and comfort wherever she went.

Old Nun's cordial greeting had cheered her, and a more vigorous, kind,
and lovable old man could not be imagined.

The mere sight of his venerable head, with its thick snow-white hair and
beard, his regular features, and eyes sparkling with the fire of youth,
was a pleasure to her, and as, in his vivacious, winning manner, he
expressed his joy at meeting her again, as he drew her to his heart and
kissed her brow, after she had told him that, in the name of the Most
High, she had called Hosea "Joshua" and summoned him back to his people
that he might command their forces, she felt as if she had found in him
some compensation for her dead father's loss, and devoted herself with
fresh vigor to the arduous duties which everywhere demanded her
attention.

And it was no trivial matter for the high-souled maiden to devote
herself, with sweet self-sacrifice, to those whose roughness and uncouth
manners wounded her. The women, it is true, gladly accepted her aid, but
the men, who had grown up under the rod of the overseer, knew neither
reserve nor consideration. Their natures were as rude as their persons
and when, as soon as they learned her name, they began to assail her with
harsh reproaches, asserting that her brother had lured them from an
endurable situation to plunge them into the most horrible position, when
she heard imprecations and blasphemy, and saw the furious wrath of the
black eyes that flashed in the brown faces framed by masses of tangled
hair and beards, her heart failed her.

But she succeeded in mastering dread and aversion, and though her heart
throbbed violently, and she expected to meet the worst, she reminded
those who were repulsive to her and from whom her woman's weakness urged
her to flee, of the God of their fathers and His promises.

She now thought she knew what the sorrowful warning voice under the
sycamore had portended, and beside the couch of the young dying mother
she raised her hands and heart to Heaven and took an oath unto the Most
High that she would exert every power of her being to battle against the
faint-hearted lack of faith and rude obstinacy, which threatened to
plunge the people into sore perils. Jehovah had promised them the fairest
future and they must not be robbed of it by the short-sightedness and
defiance of a few deluded individuals; but God himself could scarcely be
wroth with those who, content if their bodily wants were satisfied, had
unresistingly borne insults and blows like cattle. The multitude even now
did not realize that they must pass through the darkness of misery to be
worthy of the bright day that awaited them.

The medicines administered by Miriam seemed to relieve the sufferer, and
filled with fresh confidence, she left the tent to seek her brothers.

There had been little change in the state of affairs in the camp, and she
again beheld scenes from which she recoiled and which made her regret
that the sensitive Milcah was her companion.

Some rascally bondmen who had seized cattle and utensils belonging to
others had been bound to a palmtree, and the ravens that followed the
procession; and had found ample sustenance on the way, now croaked
greedily around the quickly established place of execution.

No one knew who had been judge or executioner of the sentence; but those
who took part in the swift retribution considered it well justified, and
rejoiced in the deed.

With rapid steps and averted head Miriam drew the trembling Milcah on and
gave her to the care of her uncle Naashon to lead home. The latter had
just parted from the man who with him ruled the sons of Judah as a prince
of the tribe--Hur, who at the head of the shepherds had won the first
victory against the Egyptians, and who now led to the maiden with joyful
pride a man and a boy, his son and grandson. Both had been in the service
of the Egyptians, practising the trade of goldsmith and worker in metals
for Pharaoh at Memphis. The former's skill had won him the name of Uri,
which in Egyptian means 'great', and this artificer's son Bezaleel, Hur's
grandson, though scarcely beyond boyhood, was reputed to surpass his
father in the gifts of genius.

Hur gazed with justifiable pride at son and grandson; for though both had
attained much consideration among the Egyptians they had followed their
father's messenger without demur, leaving behind them many who were dear
to their hearts, and the property gained in Memphis, to join their
wandering nation and share its uncertain destiny.

Miriam greeted the new arrivals with the utmost warmth, and the men who,
representing three generations, stood before her, presented a picture on
which the eyes of any well-disposed person could not fail to rest with
pleasure.

The grandfather was approaching his sixtieth year, and though many
threads of silver mingled with his ebon-black hair, he held himself as
erect as a youth, while his thin, sharply-cut features expressed the
unyielding determination, which explained his son's and grandson's prompt
obedience to his will.

Uri, too, was a stately man, and Bezaleel a youth who showed that he had
industriously utilized his nineteen years and already attained an
independent position. His artist eye sparkled with special brilliancy,
and after he and his father had taken leave of Miriam to greet Caleb,
their grandfather and great-grandfather, she heartily congratulated the
man who was one of her brother's most loyal friends, upon such scions of
his noble race.

Hur seized her hand and, with a warmth of emotion gushing from a grateful
heart that was by no means usual to the stern, imperious nature of this
chief of an unruly shepherd tribe, exclaimed:

"Ay, they have remained good, true, and obedient. God has guarded them
and prepared this day of happiness for me. Now it depends on you to make
it the fairest of all festivals. You must have long perceived that my
eyes have followed you and that you have been dear to my heart. To work
for our people and their welfare is my highest aim as a man, yours as a
woman, and that is a strong bond. But I desired to have a still firmer
one unite us, and since your parents are dead, and I cannot go with the
bridal dower to Amram, to buy you from him, I now bring my suit to you in
person, high-souled maiden. But ere you say yes or no, you should learn
that my son and grandson are ready to pay you the same honor as head of
our household that they render me, and your brothers willingly permitted
me to approach you as a suitor."

Miriam had listened to this offer in silent surprise. She had a high
esteem and warm regard for the man who so fervently desired her love.
Spite of his age, he stood before her in the full flush of manhood and
stately dignity, and the beseeching expression of eyes whose glance was
wont to be so imperious and steadfast stirred the inmost depths of her
soul.

She, however, was waiting with ardent longing for another, so her sole
answer was a troubled shake of the head.

But this man of mature years, a prince of his tribe, who was accustomed
to carry his plans persistently into execution, undeterred by her mute
refusal, continued even more warmly than before.

"Do not destroy in one short moment the yearning repressed with so much
difficulty for years! Do you object to my age?"

Miriam shook her head a second time, but Hur went on:

"That was the source of my anxiety, though I can still vie with many a
younger man in vigor. But, if you can overlook your lover's grey hairs,
perhaps you may be induced to weigh the words he now utters. Of the faith
and devotion of my soul I will say nothing. No man of my years woos a
woman, unless his heart's strong impulse urges him on. But there is
something else which, meseems, is of equal import. I said that I would
lead you to my house. Yonder it stands, a building firm and spacious
enough; but from to-morrow a tent will be our home, the camp our
dwelling-place, and there will be wild work enough within its bounds. No
one is secure, not even of life, least of all a woman, however strong she
may be, who has made common cause with those against whom thousands
murmur. Your parents are dead, your brothers might protect you, but
should the people lay hands on them, the same stones on which you cross
the stream would drag you down into the depths with them."

"And were I your wife, you also," replied Miriam, her thick eye-brows
contracting in a heavy frown.

"I will take the risk," Hur answered. "The destinies of all are in God's
hands, my faith is as firm as yours, and behind me stands the tribe of
Judah, who follow me and Naashon as the sheep follow the shepherds. Old
Nun and the Ephraimites are with us, and should matters come to the
worst, it would mean perishing according to God's will, or in faithful
union, power, and prosperity, awaiting old age in the Promised Land."

Miriam fearlessly gazed full into his stern eyes, laid her hand on his
arm, and answered: "Those words are worthy of the man whom I have honored
from childhood, and who has reared such sons; but I cannot be your wife."

"You cannot?"

"No, my lord, I cannot."

"A hard sentence, but it must suffice," replied the other, his head
drooping in sorrow; but Miriam exclaimed:

"Nay, Hur, you have a right to ask the cause of my refusal, and because I
honor you, I owe you the truth. Another man of our race reigns in my
heart. He met me for the first time when I was still a child. Like your
son and grandson, he has lived among the Egyptians, but the summons of
our God and of his father reached him as did the message to your sons,
and like Uri and Bezaleel, he showed himself obedient. If he still
desires to wed me, I shall become his wife, if it is the will of the God
whom I serve, and who shows me the favor of suffering me to hear his
voice. But I shall think of you with gratitude forever."

Her large eyes had been glittering through tears as she uttered the
words, and there was a tremor in the grey-haired lover's voice as he
asked in hesitating, embarrassed tones:

"And if the man for whom you are waiting--I do not ask his name--shuts
his ears to the call that has reached him, if he declines to share the
uncertain destiny of his people?"

"That will never happen!" Miriam interrupted, a chill creeping through
her veins, but Hur exclaimed:

"There is no 'never,' no 'surely,' save with God. If, spite of your firm
faith, the result should be different from your expectations, will you
resign to the Lord the wish which began to stir in your heart, when you
were still a foolish child?"

"He who has guided me until now will show me the right way."

"Well then," replied Hur, "put your trust in Him, and if the man of your
choice is worthy of you, and becomes your lord, my soul will rejoice
without envy when the Most High blesses your union. But if God wills
otherwise, and you need a strong arm for your support, I am here. The
tent and the heart of Hur will ever be open to you."

With these words he turned away; but Miriam gazed thoughtfully after him
as long as the old chief's stately figure was visible.

At last, still pondering, she moved toward her host's house, but at the
road leading to Tanis, she paused and gazed northward. The dust had
subsided, and she could see a long distance, but the one person whom it
was to lead back to her and to his people did not appear. Sighing sadly,
she moved onward with drooping head, and started violently when her
brother Moses' deep voice called to her from the old sycamore.




CHAPTER XIII.

Aaron and Eleasar, with fiery eloquence, had reminded the murmuring,
disheartened people of the power and promises of their God. Whoever had
stretched his limbs undisturbed to comfortable rest, whoever had been
strengthened by food and drink regained the confidence that had been
lost. The liberated bondmen were told of the hard labor and dishonoring
blows which they had escaped and admonished that they must recognize as
God's dispensation, among other things, that Pharaoh had not pursued
them; but the rich booty still found in the plundered storehouse had no
small share in the revival of their drooping courage, and the bondmen and
lepers--for many of the latter had accompanied them and rested outside
the camp--in short, all for whose support Pharaoh had provided, saw
themselves safe for a long time from care and privation. Yet there was no
lack of malcontents, and here and there, though no one knew who
instigated the question, loud discussion arose whether it would not be
more advisable to return to Pharaoh and rely on his favor. Whoever raised
it, did the work secretly, and was often compelled to submit to sharp,
threatening retorts.

Miriam had talked with her brothers and shared the heavy anxieties that
oppressed them. Why had the desert wind so speedily destroyed the courage
of the people during their brief pilgrimage? How impatient, how weak in
faith, how rebellious they had showed themselves at the first obstacle
they had encountered, how uncontrollable they had been in following their
fierce impulses. When summoned to prayer just before sunrise during their
journey, some had turned toward the day-star rising in the east, others
had taken out a small idol they had brought with them, and others still
had uplifted their eyes to the Nile acacia, which in some provinces of
Egypt was regarded as a sacred tree. What did they know of the God who
had commanded them to cast so much behind them and take upon themselves
such heavy burdens? Even now many were despairing, though they had
confronted no serious dangers; for Moses had intended to lead the Hebrews
in Succoth over the road to Philistia direct to the Promised Land in
Palestine, but the conduct of the people forced him to resign this plan
and form another.

To reach the great highway connecting Asia and Africa it was necessary to
cross the isthmus, which rather divided than united the two continents;
for it was most thoroughly guarded from intruders and, partly by natural,
partly by artificial obstacles, barred the path of every fugitive; a
series of deep lakes rolled their waves upon its soil, and where these
did not stay the march of the travelers strong fortifications, garrisoned
by trained Egyptian troops, rose before them.

This chain of forts was called Chetam--or in the Hebrew tongue--Etham,
and wayfarers leaving Succoth would reach the nearest and strongest of
these forts in a few hours.

When the tribes, full of enthusiasm for their God, and ready for the most
arduous enterprises, shook off their chains and, exulting in their new
liberty, rushed forward to the Promised Land Moses, and with him the
majority of the elders, had believed that, like a mountain torrent,
bursting dams and sluices, they would destroy and overthrow everything
that ventured to oppose their progress. With these enthusiastic masses,
to whom bold advance would secure the highest good, and timid hesitation
could bring nothing save death and ruin, they had expected to rush over
the Etham line as if it were a pile of faggots. But now since a short
chain of difficulties and suffering had stifled the fire of their souls,
now that wherever the eye turned, there were two calm and five
dissatisfied or anxious individuals to one upheld by joyous anticipation,
to storm the Etham line would have cost rivers of blood and moreover
jeopardized all that had been already gained.

The overpowering of the little garrison in the storehouse of Pithom had
occurred under specially favorable circumstances, which could hardly be
expected to happen again, so the original plan must be changed, and an
attempt made to take a circuit around the fortifications. Instead of
moving toward the northeast, the tribes must turn southward.

But, ere carrying this plan into execution, Moses, accompanied by a few
trusty men, desired to examine the new route and ascertain whether it
would be passable for the great wandering people.

These matters were discussed under the great sycamore in front of
Amminadab's house, and Miriam was present, a mute witness.

Women,--even those like herself,--were forced to keep silence when men
were holding counsel; yet it was hard for her to remain speechless when
it was decided to abstain from attacking the forts, even should the
trained warrior, Hosea, whom God Himself had chosen to be his sword,
return to his people.

"What avails the best leader, if there is no army to obey him?" Naashon,
Amminadab's son, had exclaimed, and the others shared his opinion.

When the council finally broke up, Moses took leave of his sister with
fraternal affection. She knew that he was in the act of plunging into
fresh dangers and--in the modest manner in which she was always wont to
accost the brother who so far surpassed all others in every gift of mind
and body,--expressed her anxiety. He looked into her eyes with friendly
reproach and raised his right hand toward heaven; but she understood his
meaning, and kissing his hand with grateful warmth, replied:

"You stand under the protection of the Most High, and I fear no longer."

Pressing his lips upon her brow, he bade her give him a tablet, wrote a
few words on it, flung it into the hollow trunk of the sycamore, and
said:

"For Hosea, no, for Joshua, the son of Nun, if he comes while I am
absent. The Lord has great deeds for him to accomplish, when he learns to
expect loftier things from the Most High than from the mighty ones of
earth."

With these words he left her; but Aaron who, as the oldest, was the head
of her tribe, lingered and told her that a man of worth sought her hand.
Miriam, with blanching face, replied:

"I know it. . . . "

He looked at her in surprise and with earnest monition, added:

"As you choose; yet it will be wise to consider this. Your heart belongs
to your God and to your people, and the man whom you wed must be ready,
like yourself, to serve both; for two must be one in marriage, and if the
highest aim of one is not also that of the other, they will remain two
till the end. The voice of the senses, which drew them together, will
soon be mute and nothing will be left to them save discord."

Having said this, he went away, and she, too, was preparing to leave the
others; for on the eve of departure she might be needed in the house
whose hospitality she enjoyed. But a new incident detained her, as though
bound with fetters, under the sycamore.

What cared she for the packing of perishable wares and providing for
bodily needs, when affairs which occupied her whole soul were under
discussion! Elisheba, Naashon's wife, any housekeeper and faithful slave
could attend to the former wants. Higher things were to be determined
here--the weal or woe of her people.

Several men of distinction in the tribes had joined the elders under the
sycamore; but Hur had already departed with Moses.

Uri, the son of the former, now appeared beneath the ancient tree. The
worker in metals, who had just come from Egypt, had talked in Memphis
with persons who were near to the king and learned that Pharaoh was ready
to remove great burdens from the Hebrews and grant them new favors, if
Moses would render the God whom he served propitious to him and induce
the people to return after they had offered sacrifices in the wilderness.
Therefore it would be advisable to send envoys to Tanis and enter into
negotiations with the Sublime Porte.

These proposals, which Uri had not yet ventured to moot to his father,
he, with good intentions, brought before the assembled elders; he hoped
that their acceptance might spare the people great suffering. But
scarcely had he concluded his clear and convincing speech, when old Nun,
Hosea's father, who had with difficulty held his feelings in check, broke
in.

The old man's face, usually so cheerful, glowed with wrath, and its fiery
hue formed a strange contrast to the thick white locks which framed it. A
few hours before he had heard Moses repel similar propositions with harsh
decision and crushing reasons; now he had heard them again brought.
forward and noted many a gesture of assent among the listeners, and saw
the whole great enterprise imperilled, the enterprise for whose success
he had himself risked and sacrificed more than any other man.

This was too much for the active old man who, with flashing eyes and hand
upraised in menace, burst forth "What do you mean? Are we to pick up the
ends of the rope the Lord our God has severed? Do you counsel us to
fasten it anew, with a looser knot, which will hold as long as the whim
of a vacillating weakling who has broken his promises to us and to Moses
a score of times? Do you wish to lead us back to the cage whence the
Almighty released us by a miracle? Are we to treat the Lord our God like
a bad debtor and prefer the spurious gold ring we are offered to the
royal treasures He promises? Oh, messenger from the Egyptians--I
would . . . ."

Here the hot-blooded grey-beard raised his clenched fist in menace but,
ere he had uttered the threat that hovered on his lips, he let his arm
fall; for Gabriel, the oldest member of the tribe of Zebulun, shouted:

"Remember your own son, who is to-day among the foes of his people."

The words struck home; yet they only dimmed the fiery old man's glad
self-reliance a moment and, amid the voices uttering disapproval of the
malicious Gabriel and the few who upheld the Zebulunite, he cried:

"And because I am perhaps in danger of losing, not only the ten thousand
acres of land I flung behind me, but a noble son, it is my right to speak
here."

His broad chest heaved with his labored breathing and his eyes, shadowed
by thick white brows, rested with a milder expression on the son of Hur,
whose face had paled at his vehement words, as he continued:

"Uri is a good and dutiful son to his father and has also been obliged to