THE SHEPHERDS
Ezra picked his way carefully down the dark Bethlehem lanes until he
reached the town gate, swung shut and locked hours before at sunset.
"Nathan! Nathan!" he called, until the old gate-keeper peered out from
his little booth and muttered a friendly greeting to the lad.
"Nathan, I would go down into the fields with shepherd Eli to-night,"
explained Ezra politely. "Wilt thou not let me pass through the strait
gate? Just this once! I will never ask thee again. Old Eli is thy friend
and mine. Do the favor for him, I beg of thee, and I will bless thee all
my days."
Nathan could not help laughing at the old-fashioned speech of the boy.
"Whether I do it for thee or for shepherd Eli, the deed is done," he
cackled, and threw open the small gate standing beside the large one and
known as the "strait" gate. "Ask me not again, I warn thee; ask me not
again."
Past the Bethlehem khan Ezra hurried, and down through the piece of
fertile land that lay to the east, where the reapers of Boaz had swung
their rude sickles and where Ruth had gleaned the golden sheaves. A walk
of two miles brought him to the pasture land where the shepherd lad
David had watched his father's sheep, battling with lion and bear when
the need arose, and where, too, many of his sweetest songs had been
written.
The boy scurried along at a good pace, for on these dark and lonely
roads to meet with wolf or jackal or, still more terrifying, with
robbers, singly or in bands, was not unknown.
At the end of the road Ezra peered about in the starlight until he
could distinguish a number of dark forms huddled before one of the caves
in the hillside. Within the shallow cave lay the flock asleep, and
before it, on his rough bed of brushwood and rushes, sat shepherd Eli,
with only a dog or two to keep him company. Beside him lay his
shepherd's crook, his club tipped with iron the better to protect his
charges, and his sling with which he was wont to throw stones just
beyond his sheep to bring them back when they were going astray.
Ezra chose to leap over the rude stone wall that enclosed this sheepfold
instead of passing through the narrow gateway. The two great sheep dogs,
gaunt and rough, who had spied him on the edge of the pasture land long
before he had seen them, leaped fawning upon him with sharp yelps of
affection.
"Down! Down!" cried Ezra, half laughing, half impatient. "Eli, my
father sends thee greeting. As for me, I would fain spend the night with
thee here in the fields. I am crowded out of my father's house by
visitors from Nazareth who come to be listed for the census. I will make
myself useful, Eli. Perhaps thou canst steal a nap while I keep watch of
the sheep. But why art thou alone to-night? Where are the other
shepherds? And the dogs?"
"Aye, aye," responded shepherd Eli, slowly wagging his head and drawing
his sheepskin cloak about him. "Thou art always welcome, lad. As for
sleep, never at cockcrow was I more wakeful than at this moment
to-night. For there is something strange in the air, lad. The very dogs
feel it. They lie quiet and still; they neither twist nor turn. Whether
it be that friend or foe approaches, I know not. Something beyond our
ken is a-wing to-night."
"But, Eli," said Ezra, "if it were wolves or jackals, the dogs would be
barking. And where are the other shepherds? Wilt thou battle alone if
the wild beasts come?"
"Nay, child, nay," said Eli patiently. "I look not for wild beasts
to-night, nor do the dogs expect their ancient enemy. Thou sayest truly,
like a wise little shepherd, that they behave not thus when wolf or
jackal is abroad. The other shepherds read not the signs as do I.
Thieves lurk near at hand, say they, and with the dogs they go to rout
them out."
"What dost thou expect, Eli?" asked Ezra timidly. He was thrilled and
frightened and thrilled in turn at this talk.
The old man sat with his face turned to the brilliant Oriental sky
powdered thick with stars.
"'He numbereth the stars, He calleth them all by name,'" said Eli
softly. "Expect? Child, I know not what I expect except that He who hath
promised us salvation from our enemies and remission of our sins shall
keep His holy word. And there are signs that the time draws near. Surely
thou hast heard of the priest Zacharias, who was smitten dumb as he
served in the Temple, and of the birth of his son John who, it is
promised, is to go before the face of the Lord to make ready His ways.
Who made the promise? Who but the Angel of the Lord, Gabriel, who stands
in the presence of God. Think you his word shall fail? Nay, I tell thee
the times are ripe."
"But Eli--" Ezra began in his shrill little voice, when the old shepherd
cut him short with a sudden gesture.
"The men return," muttered Eli. "Once already to-night they have heard
what they term 'an old man's babbling.' Let us listen to their story
now."
"How many thieves caught ye, friends?" he called out. "Did ye surprise
the enemy in his lair?"
The shepherds filed in through the narrow opening and threw themselves
heavily on the ground beside Eli and the lad. The dogs crouched low,
with nose between paws, and closed their eyes.
"Thieves? Nay," said one of the shepherds brusquely. "We saw naught
amiss, and had but the walk for our pains."
The shepherds wrapped their heavy woolen mantles about them and talked
together in low voices. No one seemed disposed to sleep, though the
day's work had been hard and all needed a night's rest. Ezra sat silent,
thinking of old Eli's words and scarce hearing the conversation that
went on about him.
Suddenly the old shepherd grasped Ezra's arm. One of the younger men
was speaking.
"The night has grown so still," said he. "Note ye that the wind dies
down and that a hush falls o'er all?"
His voice ended on a trembling note. He covered his face with his mantle
and fell forward among his prostrate companions. Only old Eli, with his
arm about shaking little Ezra, held his white head erect--joyous,
confident, trustful.
For an angel of the Lord stood by them, and the glory of the Lord shone
round about them: and they were sore afraid.
And the angel said unto them:
"Be not afraid; for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which
shall be to all the people: for there is born to you this day in the
city of David a Saviour, who is Christ the Lord. And this is the sign
unto you: Ye shall find a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, and lying
in a manger."
And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host
praising God, and saying:
"Glory to God in the highest,
On earth peace, good will toward men."
Ezra, strengthened by Eli's arm which did not waver, ventured to open
his eyes.
He saw a brilliant whiteness, clear as crystal, that seemed to light the
world from end to end. High above, the sky was filled with clouds of
rose and amber and amethyst. All the glories of sunrise and of sunset
were mingled there.
Did he catch a flutter of white pinions? Did he glimpse a Leader,
majestic, terrible, yet radiant with gracious love?
Even as he stared, unable to move, the song grew fainter, the colors
faded and vanished.
The echo of the angels' song rang in his ears. To his dying day it
would haunt his memory.
The muffled figures on the ground stirred and stood erect.
Overhead burned the stars in the frosty sky.
The silence was broken by old Eli.
"Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing that is come to
pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us."
Over the rough, uneven ground hastened the shepherds. Their flocks for
once were left uncared for, save by the dogs. They pressed on across the
familiar pasture land, up and over the cornfields, and then took the
sharp rise that would lead them past the Bethlehem inn.
Clinging to the hillside and facing the cornfields was the stable of the
inn, a rough cave in the limestone rock. On a rope stretched across the
wide entrance swung a lantern, whose dim light twinkled and flickered
before the eyes of the shepherds as they came up the hill.
Old Eli quickened his pace, Ezra at his heels.
"And this is the sign unto you: Ye shall find a babe wrapped in
swaddling clothes, and lying in a manger."
The boy knew that the inn was crowded to overflowing, as was his own and
every house in Bethlehem that night. Was it possible that this familiar
manger was the resting-place to-night of a Heavenly Guest? Were
strangers lodged in the stable? Was this the only shelter that could be
offered the latest arrivals of the Nazareth caravan because there was no
room at the inn?
At the stable entrance Ezra hung back. He saw a man come forward out of
the shadows and talk with Eli. With a single gesture the old shepherd
motioned his companions to join him. Lost for a moment in the gloom,
Ezra saw them again speaking, bending forward, then falling upon their
knees.
The stars had faded and an early morning wind was blowing chill when at
last the shepherds made their way out of the stable. The lamp, still
swinging, burned pale in the dawn, but its faint light fell across the
white face of a little boy who lurked in the doorway and whose cold hand
clutched old Eli as he came exulting forth.
"Praise God! Praise God for His mercy, justice, and truth! Praise--"
Old Eli started at the cold touch, and looked down with eyes that glowed
with an inward light.
"Child, what doest thou here? Hinder me not. I go now to spread the
good tidings--to praise and to glorify God."
Ezra opened his dry lips.
"Hast found Him?" he asked. "Is it the Messiah? Is it the Christ?"
"Aye, child, 'tis as the angel said," answered Eli happily; "a babe
wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. Come to bring peace on
earth, our Saviour who is Christ the Lord, our long-looked-for Messiah!
Glory to God in the highest! Glory!"
Ezra heard no more. He had turned, and with the speed of an arrow from
its bow was running up the steep road toward home.