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give you a letter of divorce, he would no longer desire to possess you."
"Would he not?" asked Miriam with a forced smile. "Do you owe this
information to him?"
"He has devoted himself, body and soul, to the welfare of the people and
renounces the love of woman," replied Hur. But his wife exclaimed:
"Renunciation is easy, where desire would bring nothing save fresh
rejection and shame. Not to him who, in the hour of the utmost peril,
sought aid from the Egyptians is the honor of the chief command of the
warriors due, but rather to you, who led the tribes to the first victory
at the store-house in Succoth and to whom the Lord Himself, through Moses
His servant, confided the command."
Hur looked anxiously at the woman for whom a late, fervent love had fired
his heart, and seeing her glowing cheeks and hurried breathing, knew not
whether to attribute these symptoms to the steep ascent or to the
passionate ambition of her aspiring soul, which she now transferred to
him, her husband.
That she held him in so much higher esteem than the younger hero, whose
return he had dreaded, pleased him, but he had grown grey in the strict
fulfilment of duty, and would not deviate from what he considered right.
His mere hints had been commands to the wife of his youth whom he had
borne to the grave a few years before, and as yet he had encountered no
opposition from Miriam. That Joshua was best fitted to command the
fighting-men of the people was unquestionable, so he answered, with
panting breath, for the ascent taxed his strength also:
"Your good opinion is an honor and a pleasure to me; but even should
Moses and the elders confer the chief command upon me, remember the heap
of stones at Succoth and my vow. I have ever been mindful of and shall
keep it."
Miriam looked angrily aside, and said nothing more till they had reached
the summit of the pass.
The victorious youths were greeting their approaching kindred with loud
shouts.
The joy of meeting, the provisions captured, and the drink which, though
sparingly distributed, was divided among the greatest sufferers, raised
the drooping courage of the exhausted wayfarers; and the thirsting
Hebrews shortened the rest at the summit of the pass in order to reach
Dophkah more quickly. They had heard from Joshua that they would find
there not only ruined cisterns, but also a hidden spring whose existence
had been revealed to him by the ex-captain of the prisoners' guards.
The way led down the mountain. "Haste" was the watchword of the fainting
Hebrews on their way to a well; and thus, soon after sunset, they reached
the valley of the turquoise mines, where they encamped around the hill
crowned by the ruined fortress and burned store-houses of Dophkah.
The spring in an acacia grove dedicated to the goddess Hathor was
speedily found, and fire after fire was quickly lighted. The wavering
hearts which, in the desert of Sin, had been on the verge of despair were
again filled with the anticipation of life, hope, and grateful faith. The
beautiful acacias, it is true, had been felled to afford easier access to
the spring whose refreshing waters had effected this wonderful change.
At the summit of the pass Joshua and Miriam had met again, but found time
only for a hasty greeting. In the camp they were brought into closer
relations.
Joshua had appeared among the people with his father. The heir of the
princely old man who was held in such high esteem received joyous
greetings from all sides, and his counsel to form a vanguard of the
youthful warriors, a rear-guard of the older ones, and send out chosen
bands of the former on reconnoitering expeditions was readily adopted.
He had a right to say that he was familiar with everything pertaining to
the guidance and defence of a large army. God Himself had entrusted him
with the chief command, and Moses, by sending him the monition to be
strong and steadfast, had confirmed the office. Hur, too, who now
possessed it, was willing to transfer it to him, and this man's promise
was inviolable, though he had omitted to repeat it in the presence of the
elders. Joshua was treated as if he held the chief command, and he
himself felt his own authority supreme.
After the assembly dispersed, Hur had invited him, spite of the late
hour, to go to his tent and the warrior accompanied him, for he desired
to talk with Miriam. He would show her, in her husband's presence, that
he had found the path which she had so zealously pointed out to him.
In the presence of another's wife the tender emotions of a Hebrew were
silent. Hur's consort must be made aware that he, Joshua, no longer
cherished any love for her. Even in his solitary hours, he had wholly
ceased to think of her.
He confessed that she was a noble, a majestic woman, but the very memory
of this grandeur now sent a chill through his veins.
Her actions, too, appeared in a new light. Nay, when at the summit of the
pass she had greeted him with a cold smile, he felt convinced that they
were utterly estranged from one another, and this feeling grew stronger
and stronger beside the blazing fire in the stately tent of the chief,
where they met a second time.
The rescued Reuben and his wife Milcah had deserted Miriam long before
and, during her lonely waiting, many thoughts had passed through her mind
which she meant to impress upon the man to whom she had granted so much
that its memory now weighed on her heart like a crime.
We are most ready to be angry with those to whom we have been unjust, and
this woman regarded the gift of her love as something so great, so
precious, that it behooved even the man whom she had rejected never to
cease to remember it with gratitude. But Joshua had boasted that he no
longer desired, even were she offered to him, the woman whom he had once
so fervently loved and clasped in his embrace. Nay, he had confirmed this
assertion by leisurely waiting, without seeking her.
At last he came, and in company with her husband, who was ready to cede
his place to him.
But she was present, ready to watch with open eyes for the welfare of the
too generous Hur.
The elderly man, to whose fate she had linked her own, and whose faithful
devotion touched her, should be defrauded by no rival of the position
which was his due, and which he must retain, if only because she rebelled
against being the wife of a man who could no longer claim next to her
brothers the highest rank in the tribes.
Never before had the much-courted woman, who had full faith in her gift
of prophesy, felt so bitter, sore, and irritated. She did not admit it
even to herself, yet it seemed as if the hatred of the Egyptians with
which Moses had inspired her, and which was now futile, had found a new
purpose and was directed against the only man whom she had ever loved.
But a true woman can always show kindness to everyone whom she does not
scorn, so though she blushed deeply at the sight of the man whose kiss
she had returned, she received him cordially, and with sympathetic
questions.
Meanwhile, however, she addressed him by his former name Hosea, and when
he perceived it was intentional, he asked if she had forgotten that it
was she herself who, as the confidante of the Most High, had commanded
him henceforward to call himself "Joshua."
Her features grew sharper with anxiety as she replied that her memory was
good but he reminded her of a time which she would prefer to forget. He
had himself forfeited the name the Lord had given him by preferring the
favor of the Egyptians to the help which God had promised. Faithful to
the old custom, she would continue to call him "Hosea."
The honest-hearted soldier had not expected such hostility, but he
maintained a tolerable degree of composure and answered quietly that he
would rarely afford her an opportunity to address him by this or any
other name. Those who were his friends readily adopted that of Joshua.
Miriam replied that she, too, would be ready to do so if her husband
approved and he himself insisted upon it; for the name was only a
garment. Of course offices and honors were another matter.
When Joshua then declared that he still believed God Himself had summoned
him, through the lips of His prophetess, to command the Hebrew soldiers
and that he would admit the right of no one save Moses to deprive him of
his claim to this office, Hur assented and held out his hand to him.
Then Miriam dropped the restraint she had hitherto imposed on herself
and, with defiant eagerness, continued:
"There I am of a different opinion. You did not obey the summons of the
Most High. Can you deny this? And when the Omnipresent One found you at
the feet of Pharaoh, instead of at the head of His people, He deprived
you of the office with which He had entrusted you. He, the mightiest of
generals, summoned the tempest and the waves, and they swallowed up the
foe. So perished those who were your friends till their heavy fetters
made you realize their true disposition toward you and your race. But I,
meanwhile, was extolling the mercy of the Most High, and the people
joined in my hymn of praise. On that very day the Lord summoned another
to command the fighting-men in your stead, and that other, as you know,
is my husband. If Hur has never learned the art of war, God will surely
guide his arm, and it is He and none other who bestows victory.
"My husband--hear it again--is the sole commander of the hosts and if, in
the abundance of his generosity, he has forgotten it, he will retain his
office when he remembers whose hand chose him, and when I, his wife,
raise my voice and recall it to his memory."
Joshua turned to go, in order to end the painful discussion, but Hur
detained him, protesting that he was deeply incensed by his wife's
unseemly interference in the affairs of men, and that he insisted on his
promise. "A woman's disapproving words were blown away by the wind. It
would be Moses' duty to declare whom Jehovah had chosen to be commander."
While making this reply Hur had gazed at his wife with stern dignity, as
if admonishing discretion, and the look seemed to have effected its
purpose; for Miriam had alternately flushed and paled as she listened;
nay, she even detained the guest by beckoning him with a trembling hand
to approach, as though she desired to soothe him.
"Let me say one thing more," she began, drawing a long breath, "that you
may not misunderstand my meaning. I call everyone our friend who devotes
himself to the cause of the people, and how self-sacrificingly you intend
to do this, Hur has informed me. It was your confidence in Pharaoh's
favor that parted us--therefore I know how to prize your firm and
decisive breach with the Egyptians, but I did not correctly estimate the
full grandeur of this deed until I learned that not only long custom, but
other bonds, united you to the foe."
"What is the meaning of these words?" replied Joshua, convinced that she
had just fitted to the bowstring another shaft intended to wound him. But
Miriam, unheeding the question, calmly continued with a defiant keenness
of glance that contradicted her measured speech:
"After the Lord's guidance had delivered us from the enemy, the Red Sea
washed ashore the most beautiful woman we have seen for a long time. I
bandaged the wound a Hebrew woman dealt her and she acknowledged that her
heart was filled with love for you, and that on her dying bed she
regarded you as the idol of her soul."
Joshua, thoroughly incensed, exclaimed: "If this is the whole truth, wife
of Hur, my father has given me a false report; for according to what I
heard from him, the hapless woman made her last confession only in the
presence of those who love me; not in yours. And she was right to shun
you--you would never have understood her."
Here he saw a smile of superiority hover around Miriam's lips; but he
repelled it, as he went on:
"Ah, your intellect is tenfold keener than poor Kasana's ever was. But
your heart, which was open to the Most High, had no room for love. It
will grow old and cease to beat without having learned the feeling. And,
spite of your flashing eyes, I will tell you you are more than a woman,
you are a prophetess. I cannot boast of gifts so lofty. I am merely a
plain man, who understands the art of fighting better than that of
foretelling the future. Yet I can see what is to come. You will foster
the hatred of me that glows in your breast, and will also implant it in
your husband's heart and zealously strive to fan it there. And I know
why. The fiery ambition which consumes you will not suffer you to be the
wife of a man who is second to any other. You refuse to call me by the
name I owe to you. But if hatred and arrogance do not stifle in your
breast the one feeling that still unites us--love for our people, the day
will come when you will voluntarily approach and, unasked, by the free
impulse of your heart, call me 'Joshua.'"
With these words he took leave of Miriam and her husband by a short wave
of the hand, and vanished in the darkness of the night.
Hur gazed gloomily after him in silence until the footsteps of the
belated guest had died away in the sleeping camp; then the ill-repressed
wrath of the grave man, who had hitherto regarded his young wife with
tender admiration, knew no bounds.
With two long strides he stood directly before her as she gazed with a
troubled look into the fire, her face even paler than his own. His voice
had lost its metallic harmony, and sounded shrill and sharp as he
exclaimed:
"I had the courage to woo a maiden who supposed herself to be nearer to
God than other women, and now that she has become my wife she makes me
atone for such presumption."
"Atone?" escaped Miriam's livid lips, and a defiant glance blazed at him
from her black eyes. But, undismayed, he continued, grasping her hand
with so firm a pressure that it hurt her:
"Aye, you make me atone for it!--Shame on me, if I permit this
disgraceful hour to be followed by similar ones."
Miriam strove to wrest her hand from his clasp, but he would not release
it, and went on:
"I sought you, that you might be the pride of my house. I expected to sow
honor, and I reap disgrace; for what could be more humiliating to a man
than to have a wife who rules him, who presumes to wound with hostile
words the heart of the friend who is protected by the laws of
hospitality? A woman of different mould, a simple-hearted, upright wife,
who looked at her husband's past life, instead of planning how to
increase his greatness, that she might share it with him, need not have
had me shout into her ears that Hur has garnered honors and dignities
enough, during his long existence, to be able to spare a portion of them
without any loss of esteem. It is not the man who holds the chief
command, but the one who shows the most self-sacrificing love for the
people that is greatest in the eyes of Jehovah. You desire a high place,
you seek to be honored by the multitude as one who is summoned by the
Lord. I shall not forbid it, so long as you do not forget what the duty
of a wife commands. You owe me love also; for you vowed to give it on
your marriage day; but the human heart can bestow only what it possesses,
and Hosea is right when he says that love, which is warm itself and warms
others, is a feeling alien to your cold nature."
With these words he turned his back upon her and went to the dark portion
of the tent, while Miriam remained standing by the fire, whose flickering
light illumined her beautiful, pallid face.
With clenched teeth and hands pressed on her heaving bosom, she stood
gazing at the spot where he had disappeared.
Her grey-haired husband had confronted her in the full consciousness of
his dignity, a noble man worthy of reverence, a true, princely chief of
his tribe, and infinitely her superior. His every word had pierced her
bosom like the thrust of a lance. The power of truth had given each its
full emphasis and held up to Miriam a mirror that showed her an image
from which she shrank.
Now she longed to rush after him and beg him to restore the love with
which he had hitherto surrounded her--and which the lonely woman had
gratefully felt.
She knew that she could reciprocate his costly gift; for how ardently she
longed to have one kind, forgiving word from his lips.
Her soul seemed withered, parched, torpid, like a corn-field on which a
poisonous mildew has fallen; yet it had once been green and blooming.
She thought of the tilled fields in Goshen which, after having borne an
abundant harvest, remained arid and bare till the moisture of the river
came to soften the soil and quicken the seed which it had received. So it
had been with her soul, only she had flung the ripening grain into the
fire and, with blasphemous hand, erected a dam between the fructifying
moisture and the dry earth.
But there was still time!
She knew that he erred in one respect; she knew she was like all other
women, capable of yearning with ardent passion for the man she loved. It
depended solely on herself to make him feel this in her arms.
Now, it is true, he was justified in thinking her harsh and unfeeling,
for where love had once blossomed in her soul, a spring of bitterness now
gushed forth poisoning all it touched.
Was this the vengeance of the heart whose ardent wishes she had
heroically slain?
God had disdained her sorest sacrifice; this it was impossible to doubt;
for His majesty was no longer revealed to her in visions that exalted the
heart, and she was scarcely entitled to call herself His prophetess. This
sacrifice had led her, the truth-loving woman, into falsehood and plunged
her who, in the consciousness of seeking the right path lived at peace
with herself, into torturing unrest. Since that great and difficult deed
she, who had once been full of hope, had obtained nothing for which she
longed. She, who recognized no woman as her superior, had been obliged to
yield in shame her place to a poor dying Egyptian. She had been kindly
disposed toward all who were of her blood, and were devoted to the sacred
cause of her people, and now her hostile bitterness had wounded one of
the best and noblest. The poorest bondman's wife rejoiced to bind more
and more closely the husband who had once loved her--she had wickedly
estranged hers.
Seeking protection she had approached his hearthstone shivering, but she
had found it warmer than she had hoped, and his generosity and love fell
upon her wounded soul like balm. True, he could not restore what she had
lost, but he could give a welcome compensation.
Ah, he no longer believed her capable of a tender emotion, yet she needed
love in order to live, and no sacrifice seemed to her too hard to regain
his. But pride was also a condition of her very existence, and whenever
she prepared to humbly open her heart to her husband, the fear of
humiliating herself overpowered her, and she stood as though spell-bound
till the blazing wood at her feet fell into smoking embers and darkness
surrounded her.
Then a strange anxiety stole over her.
Two bats, which had come from the mines and circled round the fire darted
past her like ghosts. Everything urged her back to the tent, to her
husband, and with hasty resolution she entered the spacious room lighted
by a lamp. But it was empty, and the female slave who received her said
that Hur would spend the time until the departure of the people with his
son and grandson.
A keen pang pierced her heart, and she lay down to rest with a sense of
helplessness and shame which she had not felt since her childhood.
A few hours after the camp was astir and when her husband, in the grey
dawn of morning, entered the tent with a curt greeting, pride again
raised its head and her reply sounded cold and formal.
He did not come alone; his son Uri was with him.
But he looked graver than was his wont; for the men of Judah had
assembled early and adjured him not to give up the chief command to any
man who belonged to another tribe.
This had been unexpected. He had referred them to Moses' decision, and
his desire that it might be adverse to him was intensified, as his young
wife's self-reliant glance stirred fresh wrath in his soul.
CHAPTER XXVI.
Early the following morning the people resumed their march with fresh
vigor and renewed courage; but the little spring which, by digging, had
at last been forced to flow was completely exhausted.
However, its refusal to bestow a supply of water to take with them was of
no consequence; they expected to find another well at Alush.
The sun had risen in radiant majesty in a cloudless sky. The light showed
its awakening power on the hearts of men, and the rocks and the yellow
sand of the road sparkled like the blue vault above. The pure, light,
spicy air of the desert, cooled by the freshness of the night, expanded
the breasts of the wayfarers, and walking became a pleasure.
The men showed greater confidence, and the eyes of the women sparkled
more brightly than they had done for a long time; for the Lord had again
showed the people that He remembered them in their need; and fathers and
mothers gazed proudly at the sons who had conquered the foe. Most of the
tribes had greeted in the band of prisoners some one who had long been
given up as lost, and it was a welcome duty to make amends for the
injuries the terrible forced labor had inflicted. There was special
rejoicing, not only among the Ephraimites, but everywhere, over the
return of Joshua, as all, save the men of the tribe of Judah, now called
him, remembering the cheering promise the name conveyed.
The youths who under his command had put the Egyptians to rout, told
their relatives what manner of man the son of Nun was, how he thought of
everything and assigned to each one the place for which he was best
suited. His eye kindled the battle spirit in every one on whom it fell,
and the foe retreated at his mere war-cry.
Those who spoke of old Nun and his grandson also did so with sparkling
eyes. The tribe of Ephraim, whose lofty pretensions had been a source of
much vexation, was willingly allowed precedence on this march, and only
the men of Judah were heard to grumble. Doubtless there was reason for
dissatisfaction; for Hur, the prince of their tribe, and his young wife
walked as if oppressed by a heavy burden; whoever asked them anything
would have been wiser to have chosen another hour.
So long as the sun's rays were oblique, there was still a little shade at
the edge of the sandstone rocks which bordered the road on both sides or
towered aloft in the center; and as the sons of Korah began a song of
praise, young and old joined in, and most gladly and gratefully of all
Milcah, now no longer pale, and Reuben, her happy, liberated husband.
The children picked up golden-yellow bitter apples, which having fallen
from the withered vines, lay by the wayside as if they had dropped from
the sky, and brought them to their parents. But they were bitter as gall
and a morose old man of the tribe of Zebulun, who nevertheless kept their
firm shells to hold ointment, said:
"These are a symbol of to-day. It looks pleasant now; but when the sun
mounts higher and we find no water, we shall taste the bitterness."
His prediction was verified only too soon; for as the road which, after
leaving the sandstone region, began to lead upward through a rocky
landscape which resembled walls of red brick and grey stone, grew
steeper, the sun rose higher and higher and the heat of the day hourly
increased.
Never had the sun sent sharper arrows upon the travellers, and pitiless
was their fall upon bare heads and shoulders.
Here an old man, yonder a younger one, sank prostrate under its scorching
blaze or, supported by his friends, staggered on raving with his hand
pressed to his brow like a drunken man. The blistered skin peeled from
the hands and faces of men and women, and there was not one whose palate
and tongue were not parched by the heat, or whose vigorous strength and
newly-awakened courage it did not impair.
The cattle moved forward with drooping heads and dragging feet or rolled
on the ground till the shepherds' lash compelled them to summon their
failing powers.
At noon the people were permitted to rest, but there was not a hand's
breadth of shade where they sought repose. Whoever lay down in the
noonday heat found fresh tortures instead of relief. The sufferers
themselves urged a fresh start for the spring at Alush.
Hitherto each day, after the sun had begun its course toward the west
through the cloudless sky of the desert, the heat had diminished, and ere
the approach of twilight a fresher breeze had fanned the brow; but to-day
the rocks retained the glow of noonday for many hours, until a light cool
breeze blew from sea at the west. At the same time the vanguard which, by
Joshua's orders, preceded the travellers, halted, and the whole train
stopped.
Men, women, and children fixed their eyes and waved hands, staves, and
crutches toward the same spot, where the gaze was spell-bound by a
wondrous spectacle never beheld before.
A cry of astonishment and admiration echoed from the parched weary lips,
which had long since ceased to utter question or answer; and it soon rang
from rank to rank, from tribe to tribe, to the very lepers at the end of
the procession and the rear-guard which followed it. One touched another,
and whispered a name familiar to every one, that of the sacred mountain
where the Lord had promised Moses to "bring them unto a good land and a
large, unto a land flowing with milk and honey."
No one had told the weary travellers, yet all knew that for the first
time they beheld Horeb and the peak of Sinai, the most sacred summit of
this granite range.
Though a mountain, it was also the throne of the omnipotent God of their
fathers.
The holy mountain itself seemed at this hour to be on fire like the bush
whence He had spoken to His chosen servant. Its summit, divided into
seven peaks, towered majestically aloft in the distance, dominating the
heights and valleys far and near, glowing before the people like a giant
ruby, irradiated by the light of a conflagration which was consuming the
world.
No eye had ever beheld a similar spectacle. Then the sun sank lower and
lower, till it set in the sea concealed behind the mountains. The glowing
ruby was transformed into a dark amethyst, and at last assumed the deep
hue of a violet; but the eyes of the people continued to dwell on the
sacred scenes as though spell-bound. Nay, when the day-star had
completely disappeared, and its reflection gilded a long cloud with
shining edges, their eyes dilated still more, for a man of the tribe of
Benjamin, overwhelmed by the grandeur of the spectacle, beheld in it the
floating gold-bordered mantle of Jehovah, and the neighbors to whom he
showed it, believed him, and shared his pious excitement.
This inspiring sight had made the Hebrews for a short time forget thirst
and weariness. But the highest exaltation was soon to be transformed into
the deepest discouragement; for when night closed in and Alush was
reached after a short march it appeared that the desert tribe which dwelt
there, ere striking their tents the day before, had filled the brackish
spring with pebbles and rubbish.
Everything fit to drink which had been brought with them had been
consumed at Dophkah, and the exhausted spring at the mines had afforded
no water to fill the skins. Thirst not only parched their palates but
began to fever their bowels. Their dry throats refused to receive the
solid food of which there was no lack. Scenes that could not fail to
rouse both ruth and anger were seen and heard on all sides.
Here men and women raved and swore, wailed and moaned, yonder they gave
themselves up to dull despair. Others, whose crying children shrieked for
water, had gone to the choked spring and were quarrelling around a little
spot on the ground, whence they hoped to collect a few drops of the
precious fluid in a shallow dish. The cattle, too, lowed so mournfully
and beseechingly that it pierced the shepherds' hearts like a reproach.
Few took the trouble to pitch a tent. The night was so warm, and the
sooner they pressed forward the better, for Moses had promised to join
them a few leagues hence. He alone could aid, it was his duty to protect
man and beast from perishing.
If the God who had promised them such splendid gifts left them to die in
the wilderness with their cattle, the man to whose guidance they had
committed themselves was a cheat; and the God whose might and mercy he
never ceased extolling was more false and powerless than the idols with
heads of human beings and animals, to whom they had prayed in Egypt.
Threats, too, were loudly uttered amid curses and blasphemies. Wherever
Aaron, who had returned to the people, appeared and addressed them,
clenched fists were stretched toward him.
Miriam, too, by her husband's bidding, was compelled to desist from
comforting the women with soothing words, after a mother whose infant was
expiring at her dry breast, picked up a stone and others followed her
example.
Old Nun and his son found more attentive hearers. Both agreed that Joshua
must fight, no matter in what position Moses placed him; but Hur himself
led him to the warriors, who joyously greeted him.
Both the old man and the younger one understood how to infuse confidence.
They told them of the well-watered oasis of the Amalekites, which was not
far distant, and pointed to the weapons in their hands, with which the
Lord Himself had furnished them. Joshua assured them that they greatly
outnumbered the warriors of the desert tribe. If the young men bore
themselves as bravely as they had done at the copper mines and at
Dophkah, with God's aid the victory would be theirs.
After midnight Joshua, having taken counsel with the elders, ordered the
trumpets which summoned the fighting-men to be sounded. Under the bright
starry sky he reviewed them, divided them into bands, gave to each a
fitting leader, and impressed upon them the importance of the orders they
were to obey.
They had assembled torpidly, half dead with thirst, but the new
occupation to which their sturdy commander urged them, the hope of
victory, and the great value of the prize: a piece of land at the foot of
the sacred mountain, rich in springs and palm-trees, wonderfully
strengthened their lost energy.
Ephraim was among them animating others by his tireless vigor. But when
the ex-chief of the Egyptians--whom the Lord had already convinced that
He considered him worthy of the aid his name promised--adjured them to
rely on God's omnipotence, his words produced a very different effect
from those uttered by Aaron whose monitions they had heard daily since
their departure.
When Joshua had spoken, many youthful lips, though parched with thirst,
shouted enthusiastically:
"Hail to the chief! You are our captain; we will obey no other."
But he now explained gravely and resolutely that the obedience he exacted
from them he intended to practise rigidly himself. He would willingly
take the last place in the ranks, if such was the command of Moses.
The stars were still shining brightly in a cloudless sky when the sound
of the horns warned the people to set out on their march. Meanwhile the
vanguard had been sent forward to inform Moses of the condition of the
tribes, and after the review was over, Ephraim followed them.
During the march Joshua kept the warriors together as closely as though
an attack might be expected; profiting meanwhile by every moment to give
the men and their captains instructions for the coming battle, to inspect
them, and range their ranks in closer order. Thus he kept them and their
attention on the alert till the stars paled.
Opposition or complaint was rare among the warriors, but the murmurs,
curses, and threats grew all the louder among those who bore no weapons.
Even before the grey dawn of morning the thirsting men, whose knees
trembled with weakness, and who beheld close before their eyes the
suffering of their wives and children, shouted more and more frequently:
"On to Moses! We'll stone him when we find him!"
Many, with loud imprecations and flashing eyes, picked up bits of rock
along the road, and the fury of the multitude at last expressed itself so
fiercely and passionately that Hur took counsel with the well-disposed
among the elders, and then hurried forward with the fighting-men of Judah
to protect Moses, in case of extremity, from the rebels by force of arms.
Joshua was commissioned to detain the bands of rioters who, amid threats
and curses, were striving to force their way past the warriors.
When the sun at last rose with dazzling splendor, the march had become a
pitiful creeping and tottering onward. Even the soldiers moved as though
they were paralysed. Only when the rebels tried to press onward, they did
their duty and forced them back with swords and lances.
On both sides of the valley through which the Hebrews were passing
towered lofty cliffs of grey granite, which glittered and flashed
marvellously when the slanting sunbeams struck the bits of quartz thickly
imbedded in the primeval rock.
At noon the heat could not fail to be scorching again between the bare
precipices which in many places jutted very near one another; but the
coolness of the morning still lingered. The cattle at least found some
refreshment; for many a bush of the juicy, fragrant betharan--[Cantolina
fragrantissima]--afforded them food, and the shepherd-lads lifted their
short frocks, filled the aprons thus made with them and, spite of their
own exhaustion, held them up to the hungry mouths of the animals.
They had passed an hour in this way, when a loud shout of joy suddenly
rang out, passing from the vanguard through rank after rank till it
reached the last roan in the rear.
No one had heard in words to what event it was due, yet every one knew
that it meant nothing else than the discovery of fresh water.
Ephraim now returned to confirm the glad tidings, and what an effect it
produced upon the discouraged hearts!
They straightened their bent figures and struggled onward with redoubled
speed, as if they had already drained the water jar in long draughts. The
bands of fighting-men put no farther obstacles in their way, and joyously
greeted those who crowded past them.
But the swiftly flowing throng was soon dammed; for the spot which
afforded refreshment detained the front ranks, which blocked the whole
procession as thoroughly as a wall or moat.
The multitude became a mighty mob that filled the valley. At last men and
women, with joyous faces, appeared bearing full jars and pails in their
hands and on their heads, beckoning gaily to their friends, shouting
words of cheer, and trying to force their way through the crowd to their
relatives; but many had the precious liquid torn from them by force ere
they reached their destination.
Joshua and his band had forced their way to the vicinity of the spring,
to maintain order among the greedy drawers of water. But they were
obliged to have patience for a time, for the strong men of the tribe of
Judah, with whom Hur had led the way in advance of all the rest, were
still swinging their axes and straining at the levers hastily prepared
from the trunks of the thorny acacias to move huge blocks out of the way
and widen the passage to the flow of water that was gushing from several
clefts in the rock.
At first the spring had lost itself in a heap of moss-covered granite
blocks and afterwards in the earth; but now the overflow and trickling
away of the precious fluid had been stopped and a reservoir formed whence
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