The prisoners of state who were being transported to the mines made slow
progress. Even the experienced captain of the guards had never had
a more toilsome trip or one more full of annoyances, obstacles, and
mishaps.
One of his moles, Ephraim, had escaped; he had lost his faithful hounds,
and after his troop had been terrified and drenched by a storm such as
scarcely occurred in these desert regions once in five years, a second
had burst the next evening--the one which brought destruction on
Pharaoh’s army--and this had been still more violent and lasting.
The storm had delayed the march and, after the last cloud-burst, several
convicts and guards had been attacked by fever owing to their wet
night-quarters in the open air. The Egyptian asses, too, who were unused
to rain, had suffered and some of the best had been left on the road.
Finally they had been obliged to bury two dead prisoners, and place
three who were dangerously ill on the remaining asses; and the other
prisoners were laden with the stores hitherto carried by the beasts of
burden. This was the first time such a thing had happened during the
leader’s service of five and twenty years, and he expected severe
reproofs.
All these things exerted a baneful influence on the disposition of
the man, who was usually reputed one of the kindest-hearted of his
companions in office; and Joshua, the accomplice of the bold lad whose
flight was associated with the other vexations, suffered most sorely
from his ill-humor.
Perhaps the irritated man would have dealt more gently with him, had he
complained like the man behind him, or burst into fierce oaths like
his yoke-mate, who made threatening allusions to the future when his
sister-in-law would be in high favor with Pharaoh and know how to repay
those who ill-treated her dear relative.
But Hosea had resolved to bear whatever the rude fellow and his mates
chose to inflict with the same equanimity that he endured the scorching
sun which, ever since he had served in the army, had tortured him during
many a march through the desert, and his steadfast, manly character
helped him keep this determination.
If the captain of the gang loaded him with extra heavy burdens, he
summoned all the strength of his muscles and tottered forward without a
word of complaint until his knees trembled under him; then the captain
would rush to him, throw several packages from his shoulders, and
exclaim that he understood his spite; he was only trying to be left on
the road, to get him into fresh difficulties; but he would not allow
himself to be robbed of the lives of the men who were needed in the
mines.
Once the captain inflicted a wound that bled severely; but he instantly
made every effort to cure it, gave him wine to restore his strength, and
delayed the march half a day to permit him to rest.
He had not forgotten Prince Siptah’s promise of a rich reward to any one
who brought him tidings of Hosea’s death, but this was the very
reason that induced the honest-hearted man to watch carefully over his
prisoner’s life; for the consciousness of having violated his duty for
the sake of reaping any advantage would have robbed him of all pleasure
in food and drink, as well as of the sound sleep which were his greatest
blessings.
So though the Hebrew prisoner was tortured, it was never beyond the
limits of the endurable, and he had the pleasure of rendering, by his
own great strength, many a service to his weaker companions.
He had commended his fate to the God who had summoned him to His
service; but he was well aware that he must not rest content with mere
pious confidence, and therefore thought by day and night of escape. But
the chain that bound him to his companions in suffering was too firmly
forged, and was so carefully examined and hammered every morning and
evening, that the attempt to escape would only have plunged him into
greater misery.
The prisoners had at first marched through a hilly region, then climbed
upward, with a long mountain chain in view, and finally reached a desert
country from which truncated sandstone cones rose singly from the rocky
ground.
On the fifth evening they encamped near a large mountain which Nature
seemed to have piled up from flat layers of stone and, as the sun of the
sixth day rose, they turned into a side valley leading to the mines in
the province of Bech.
During the first few days they had been overtaken by a messenger from
the king’s silver-house; but on the other hand they had met several
little bands bearing to Egypt malachite, turquoise, and copper, as well
as the green glass made at the mines.
Among those whom they met at the entrance of the cross-valley into
which they turned on the last morning was a married couple on their way
homeward, after having received a pardon from the king. The captain of
the guards pointed them out to encourage his exhausted moles, but the
spectacle produced the opposite effect; for the tangled locks of the
man, who had scarcely passed his thirtieth year, were grey, his tall
figure was bowed and emaciated, and his naked back was covered with
scars and bleeding wales; the wife, who had shared his misery, was
blind. She sat cowering on an ass, in the dull torpor of insanity, and
though the passing of the convicts made a startling interruption to the
silence of the wilderness, and her hearing had remained keen, she paid
no heed, but continued to stare indifferently into vacancy.
The sight of the hapless pair placed Hosea’s own terrible future before
him as if in a mirror, and for the first time he groaned aloud and
covered his face with his hands.
The captain of the guards perceived this and, touched by the horror of
the man whose resolution had hitherto seemed peerless, called to him:
“They don’t all come home like that, no indeed!”
“Because they are even worse off,” he thought. “But the poor wights
needn’t know it beforehand. The next time I come this way I’ll ask for
Hosea; I shall want to know what has become of this bull of a man. The
strongest and the most resolute succumb the most quickly.”
Then, like a driver urging an unharnessed team forward, he swung the
lash over the prisoners, but without touching them, and pointing to a
column of smoke which rose behind a cliff at the right of the road, he
exclaimed:
“There are the smelting furnaces! We shall reach our destination at
noon. There will be no lack of fire to cook lentils, and doubtless you
may have a bit of mutton, too; for we celebrate to-day the birth of the
good god, the son of the sun; may life, health, and prosperity be his!”
For the next half-hour their road led between lofty cliffs through the
dry bed of a river, down which, after the last rains, a deep mountain
torrent had poured to the valley; but now only a few pools still
remained.
After the melancholy procession had passed around a steep mountain whose
summit was crowned with a small Egyptian temple of Hathor and a number
of monuments, it approached a bend in the valley which led to the ravine
where the mines were located.
Flags, hoisted in honor of Pharaoh’s birth-day, were waving from tall
masts before the gates of the little temple on the mountain; and when
loud shouts, uproar, and clashing greeted the travellers in the valley
of the mines, which was wont to be so silent, the captain of the guards
thought that the prisoners’ greatest festival was being celebrated in an
unusually noisy way and communicated this conjecture to the other guards
who had paused to listen.
Then the party pressed forward without delay, but no one raised his
head; the noon-day sun blazed so fiercely, and the dazzling walls of the
ravine sent forth a reflected glow as fierce as if they were striving to
surpass the heat of the neighboring smelting furnaces.
Spite of the nearness of the goal the prisoners tottered forward as if
asleep, only one held his breath in the intensity of suspense.
As the battle-charger in the plough arches his neck, and expands his
nostrils, while his eyes flash fire, so Joshua’s bowed figure, spite
of the sack that burdened his shoulders, straightened itself, and his
sparkling eyes were turned toward the spot whence came the sounds the
captain of the guards had mistaken for the loud tumult of festal mirth.
He, Joshua, knew better. Never could he mistake the roar echoing there;
it was the war-cry of Egyptian soldiers, the blast of the trumpet
summoning the warriors, the clank of weapons, and the battle-shouts of
hostile hordes.
Ready for prompt action, he bent toward his yokemate, and whispered
imperiously:
“The hour of deliverance is at hand. Take heed, and obey me blindly.”
Strong excitement overpowered his companion also, and Hosea had scarcely
glanced into the side-valley ere he bade him hold himself in readiness.
The first look into the ravine had showed him, on the summit of a cliff,
a venerable face framed in snowy locks--his father’s. He would have
recognized him among thousands and at a far greater distance! But from
the beloved grey head he turned a swift glance at the guide, who had
stopped in speechless horror, and supposing that a mutiny had broken out
among the prisoners, with swift presence of mind shouted hoarsely to the
other guards:
“Keep behind the convicts and cut down every one who attempts to
escape!”
But scarcely had his subordinates hurried to the end of the train, ere
Joshua whispered to his companion:
“At him!”
As he spoke the Hebrew, who, with his yoke-mate, headed the procession,
attacked the astonished leader, and ere he was aware of it, Joshua
seized his right arm, the other his left.
The strong man, whose powers were doubled by his rage, struggled
furiously to escape, but Joshua and his companion held him in an iron
grasp.
A single rapid glance had showed the chief the path he must take to join
his people True, it led past a small band of Egyptian bow-men, who were
discharging their arrows at the Hebrews on the opposite cliff, but
the enemy would not venture to fire at him and his companion; for the
powerful figure of the captain of the guards, clearly recognizable by
his dress and weapons, shielded them both.
“Lift the chain with your right hand,” whispered Joshua, “I will hold
our living buckler. We must ascend the cliff crab-fashion.”
His companion obeyed, and as they advanced within bow-shot of the
enemy--moving sometimes backward, sometimes sideways--they held the
Egyptian before them and with the ringing shout: “The son of Nun is
returning to his father and to his people!” Joshua step by step drew
nearer to the Hebrew combatants.
Not one of the Egyptians who knew the captain of the prisoners’ guard
had ventured to send an arrow at the escaping prisoners. While the
fettered pair were ascending the cliff backward, Joshua heard his name
shouted in joyous accents, and directly after Ephraim, with a band of
youthful warriors, came rushing down the height toward him.
To his astonishment Joshua saw the huge shield, sword, or battle-axe of
an Egyptian heavily-armed soldier in the hands of each of these sons of
his people, but the shepherd’s sling and the bag of round stones also
hung from many girdles.
Ephraim led his companions and, before greeting his uncle, formed
them into two ranks like a double wall between Joshua and the hostile
bow-men.
Then he gave himself up to the delight of meeting, and a second glad
greeting soon followed; for old Nun, protected by the tall Egyptian
shields which the sea had washed ashore, had been guided to the
projecting rock in whose shelter strong hands were filing the fetters
from Joshua and his companion, while Ephraim, with several others, bound
the captain.
The unfortunate man had given up all attempt at resistance and submitted
to everything as if utterly crushed. He only asked permission to wipe
his eyes ere his arms were bound behind his back; for tear after
tear was falling on the grey beard of the warder who, outwitted and
overpowered, no longer felt capable of discharging the duties of his
office.
Nun clasped to his heart with passionate fervor the rescued son whom he
had already mourned as lost. Then, releasing him, he stepped back and
never wearied of feasting his eyes on him and hearing him repeat that,
faithful to his God, he had consecrated himself to the service of his
people.
But it was for a brief period only that they gave themselves up to the
bliss of this happy meeting; the battle asserted its rights, and its
direction fell, as a matter of course, to Joshua.
He had learned with grateful joy, yet not wholly untinged with
melancholy, of the fate which had overtaken the brave army among whose
leaders he had long proudly numbered himself, and also heard that
another body of armed shepherds, under the command of Hur, Miriam’s
husband, had attacked the turquoise mines of Dophkah, which situated
a little farther toward the south, could be reached in a few hours. If
they conquered, they were to join the young followers of Ephraim before
sunset.
The latter was burning with eagerness to rush upon the Egyptians, but
the more prudent Joshua, who had scanned the foe, though he did not
doubt that they must succumb to the fiery shepherds, who were far
superior to them in numbers, was anxious to shed as little blood as
possible in this conflict, which was waged on his account, so he bade
Ephraim cut a palm from the nearest tree, ordered a shield to be handed
to him and then, waving the branch as an omen of peace, yet cautiously
protecting himself, advanced alone to meet the foe.
The main body were drawn up in front of the mines and, familiar with
the signal which requested negotiations, asked their commander for an
interview.
The latter was ready to grant it, but first desired to know the contents
of a letter which had just been handed to him and must contain evil
tidings. This was evident from the messenger’s looks and the few words
which, though broken, were pregnant with meaning, that he had whispered
to his countryman.
While some of Pharaoh’s warriors offered refreshments to the exhausted,
dust-covered runner, and listened with every token of horror to the
tidings he hoarsely gasped, the commander of the troops read the letter.
His features darkened and, when he had finished, he clenched the papyrus
fiercely; for it had announced tidings no less momentous than the
destruction of the army, the death of Pharaoh Menephtah, and the
coronation of his oldest surviving son as Seti II., after the attempt
of Prince Siptah to seize the throne had been frustrated. The latter
had fled to the marshy region of the Delta, and Aarsu, the Syrian, after
abandoning him and supporting the new king, had been raised to the chief
command of all the mercenaries. Bai, the high-priest and chief-judge,
had been deprived of his rank and banished by Seti II. Siptah’s
confederates had been taken to the Ethiopian gold mines instead of to
the copper mines. It was also stated that many women belonging to the
House of the Separated had been strangled; and Siptah’s mother had
undoubtedly met the same fate. Every soldier who could be spared from
the mines was to set off at once for Tanis, where veterans were needed
for the new legions.
This news exerted a powerful influence; for after Joshua had told the
commander that he was aware of the destruction of the Egyptian army and
expected reinforcements which had been sent to capture Dophkah to
arrive within a few hours, the Egyptian changed his imperious tone and
endeavored merely to obtain favorable conditions for retreat. He was but
too well aware of the weakness of the garrison of the turquoise mines
and knew that he could expect no aid from home. Besides, the mediator
inspired him with confidence; therefore, after many evasions and
threats, he expressed himself satisfied with the assurance that the
garrison, accompanied by the beasts of burden and necessary provisions,
should be allowed to depart unharmed. This, however, was not to be done
until after they had laid down their arms and showed the Hebrews all the
galleries where the prisoners were at work.
The young Hebrews, who twice outnumbered the Egyptians, at once set
about disarming them; and many an old warrior’s eyes grew dim, many a
man broke his lance or snapped his arrows amid execrations and curses,
while some grey-beards who had formerly served under Joshua and
recognized him, raised their clenched fists and upbraided him as a
traitor.
The dregs of the army were sent for this duty in the wilderness and most
of the men bore in their faces the impress of corruption and brutality.
Those in authority on the Nile knew how to choose soldiers whose duty it
was to exercise pitiless severity against the defenceless.
At last the mines were opened and Joshua himself seized a lamp and
pressed forward into the hot galleries where the naked prisoners of
state, loaded with fetters, were hewing the copper ore from the walls.
Already he could hear in the distance the picks, whose heads were shaped
like a swallow’s tail, bite the hard rock. Then he distinguished
the piteous wails of tortured men and women; for cruel overseers had
followed them into the mine and were urging the slow to greater haste.
To-day, Pharaoh’s birthday, they had been driven to the temple of Hathor
on the summit of the neighboring height, to pray for the king who had
plunged them into the deepest misery, and they would have been released
from labor until the next morning, had not the unexpected attack induced
the commander to force them back into the mines. Therefore to-day the
women, who were usually obliged merely to crush and sift the ores needed
to make glass and dyes, were compelled to labor in the galleries.
When the convicts heard Joshua’s shouts and footsteps, which echoed
from the bare cliffs, they were afraid that some fresh misfortune was
impending, and wailing and lamentations arose in all directions. But the
deliverer soon reached the first convicts, and the glad tidings that he
had come to save them from their misery speedily extended to the inmost
depths of the mines.
Wild exultation filled the galleries which were wont to witness only
sorrowful moans and burning tears; yet loud cries for help, piteous
wailings, groans, and the death-rattle reached Joshua’s ear; for a
hot-blooded man had rushed upon the overseer most hated and felled him
with his pick-axe. His example quickly inflamed the others’ thirst for
vengeance and, ere it could be prevented, the same fate overtook the
other officials. But they had defended themselves and the corpse of many
a prisoner strewed the ground beside their tormentors.
Obeying Joshua’s call, the liberated multitude at last emerged into
the light of day. Savage and fierce were the outcries which blended
in sinister discord with the rattling of the chains they dragged after
them. Even the most fearless among the Hebrews shrank in horror as
they beheld the throng of hapless sufferers in the full radiance of
the sunlight; for the dazzled, reddened eyes of the unfortunate
sufferers,--many of whom had formerly enjoyed in their own homes or at
the king’s court every earthly blessing; who had been tender mothers
and fathers, rejoiced in doing good, and shared all the blessings of
the civilization of a richly gifted people,--these dazzled eyes which
at first glittered through tears caused by the swift transition from the
darkness of the mines to the glare of the noon-day sun, soon sparkled as
fiercely and greedily as those of starving owls.
At first, overwhelmed by the singular change in their destiny, they
struggled for composure and did not resist the Hebrews, who, at Joshua’s
signal, began to file the fetters from their ankles; but when they
perceived the disarmed soldiers and overseers who, guarded by Ephraim
and his companions, were ranged at the base of a cliff, a strange
excitement overpowered them. Amid shrieks and yells which no name can
designate, no words describe, they broke from those who were trying to
remove their fetters and, though no glance or word had been exchanged
between them, obeyed the same terrible impulse, and unheeding the chains
that burdened them, rushed upon the defenceless Egyptians. Before
the Hebrews could prevent it, each threw himself upon the one who
had inflicted the worst suffering upon him; and here might be seen an
emaciated man clutching the throat of his stronger foe, yonder a band
of nude women horribly disfigured by want and neglect, rush upon the man
who had most rudely insulted, beaten, and abused them, and with teeth
and nails wreak upon him their long repressed fury.
It seemed as though the flood-tide of hate had burst its dam and,
unfettered, was demanding its victims.
There was a horrible scene of attack and defence, a ferocious, bloody
conflict on foot and amid the red sand of the desert, shrieks, yells,
and howls pierced the ear; nay, it was difficult to distinguish
individuals in this motley confusion of men and women, animated on the
one side by the wildest passion, a yearning for vengeance amounting
to blood-thirstiness, and on the other by the dread of death and the
necessity for self-defence.
Only a few of the prisoners had succeeded in controlling themselves;
but they, too, shouted irritating words to their fellows, reviled the
Egyptians in violent excitement, and shook their clenched fists at the
disarmed foe.
The fury with which the liberated serfs rushed upon their tormentors was
as unprecedented as the cruelties they had suffered.
But Joshua had deprived the Egyptians of their weapons, and they were
therefore under his protection.
So he commanded his men to separate the combatants, if possible without
bloodshed; but the task was no easy one, and many new and horrible deeds
were committed. At last, however, it was accomplished, and they now
perceived how terribly rage had increased the strength of the exhausted
and feeble sufferers; for though no weapons had been used in the
conflict a number of corpses strewed the spot, and most of the guards
were bleeding from terrible wounds.
After quiet had been restored, Joshua asked the wounded commander for
the list of prisoners, but he pointed to the clerk of the mines, whom
none of the convicts had assailed. He had been their physician and
treated them kindly-an elderly man, he had himself undergone sore trials
and, knowing the pain of suffering, was ready to alleviate the pangs of
others.
He willingly read aloud the names of the prisoners, among which were
several Hebrew ones, and after each individual had responded, many
declared themselves ready to join the wandering tribes.
When the disarmed soldiers and guards at last set out on their way home,
the captain of the band that had escorted Joshua and his companions
left the other Egyptians, and with drooping head and embarrassed mien
approached old Nun and his son, and begged permission to go with them;
for he could expect no favor at home and there was no God in Egypt so
mighty as theirs. It had not escaped his notice that Hosea, who had once
been a chief in the Egyptian service, had raised his hands in the sorest
straits to this God, and never had he witnessed the same degree of
resolution that he possessed. Now he also knew that this same mighty God
had buried Pharaoh’s powerful army in the sea to save His people. Such
a God was acceptable to his heart, and he desired nothing better than to
remain henceforward with those who served Him.
Joshua willingly allowed him to join the Hebrews. Then it appeared that
there were fifteen of the latter among the liberated prisoners and,
to Ephraim’s special delight, Reuben, the husband of poor melancholy
Milcah, who clung so closely to Miriam. His reserved, laconic
disposition had stood him in good stead, and the arduous forced labor
seemed to have inflicted little injury on his robust frame.
The exultation of victory, the joy of success, had taken full possession
of Ephraim and his youthful band; but when the sun set and there was
still no sign of Hur and his band, Nun and his followers were seized
with anxiety.
Ephraim had already proposed to go with some of his companions in quest
of tidings, when a messenger announced that Hur’s men had lost courage
at the sight of the well-fortified Egyptian citadel. Their leader, it
is true, had urged them to the assault, but his band had shrunk from the
peril and, unless Nun and his men brought aid, they would return with
their mission unfulfilled.
It was therefore resolved to go to the assistance of the timorous. With
joyous confidence they marched forward and, during the journey through
the cool night, Ephraim and Nun described to Joshua how they had found
Kasana and how she had died. What she had desired to communicate to the
man she loved was now made known to him, and the warrior listened with
deep emotion and remained silent and thoughtful until they reached
Dophkah, the valley of the turquoise mines, from whose center rose the
fortress which contained the prisoners.
Hur and his men had remained concealed in a side-valley, and after
Joshua had divided the Hebrew force into several bodies and assigned to
each a certain task, he gave at dawn the signal for the assault.
After a brief struggle the little garrison was overpowered and the
fortress taken. The disarmed Egyptians, like their companions at the
copper mines, were sent home. The prisoners were released and the
lepers, whose quarters were in a side-valley beyond the mines--among
them were those who at Joshua’s bidding had been brought here--were
allowed to follow the conquerors at a certain distance.
What Hur, Miriam’s husband, could not accomplish, Joshua had done, and
ere the young soldiers departed with Ephraim, old Nun assembled them to
offer thanks to the Lord. The men under Hur’s command also joined in
the prayer and wherever Joshua appeared Ephraim’s companions greeted him
with cheers.
“Hail to our chief!” often rang on the air, as they marched forward:
“Hail to him whom the Most High Himself has chosen for His sword! We
will gladly follow him; for through him God leads us to victory.”
Hur’s men also joined in these shouts, and he did not forbid them; nay,
after the storming of the fortress, he had thanked Joshua and expressed
his pleasure in his liberation.
At the departure, the younger man had stepped back to let the older one
precede him; but Hur had entreated grey-haired Nun, who was greatly his
senior, to take the head of the procession, though after the deliverance
of the people on the shore of the Red Sea he had himself been appointed
by Moses and the elders to the chief command of the Hebrew soldiers.
The road led first through a level mountain valley, then it crossed
the pass known as the “Sword-point “, which was the only means of
communication between the mines and the Red Sea.
The rocky landscape was wild and desolate, and the path to be climbed
steep. Joshua’s old father, who had grown up on the flat plains of
Goshen and was unaccustomed to climbing mountains, was borne amid the
joyous acclamations of the others, in the arms of his son and grandson,
to the summit of the pass; but Miriam’s husband who, at the head of his
men, followed the division of Ephraim’s companions, heard the shouts of
the youths yet moved with drooping head and eyes bent on the ground.
At the summit they were to rest and wait for the people who were to be
led through the wilderness of Sin to Dophkah.
The victors gazed from the top of the pass in search of the travellers;
but as yet no sign of them appeared. But when they looked back along
the mountain path whence they had come a different spectacle presented
itself, a scene so grand, so marvellous, that it attracted every eye
as though by a magic spell; for at their feet lay a circular valley,
surrounded by lofty cliffs, mountain ridges, peaks, and summits, which
here white as chalk, yonder raven-black, here grey and brown, yonder red
and green, appeared to grow upward from the sand toward the azure sky of
the wilderness, steeped in dazzling light, and unshadowed by the tiniest
cloudlet.
All that the eye beheld was naked and bare, silent and lifeless. On the
slopes of the many-colored rocks, which surrounded the sandy valley,
grew no blade of grass nor smallest plant. Neither bird, worm, nor
beetle stirred in these silent tracts, hostile to all life. Here the eye
discerned no cultivation,--nothing that recalled human existence. God
seemed to have created for Himself alone these vast tracts which were of
service to no living creature. Whoever penetrated into this wilderness
entered a spot which the Most High had perchance chosen for a place of
rest and retreat, like the silent, inaccessible Holy of Holies of the
temple.
The young men had gazed mutely at the wonderful scene at their feet. Now
they prepared to encamp and showed themselves diligent in serving old
Nun, whom they sincerely loved. Resting among them under a hastily
erected canopy he related, with sparkling eyes, the deeds his son had
performed.
Meanwhile Joshua and Hur were still standing at the top of the pass,
the former gazing silently down into the dreary, rocky valley, which
overarched by the blue dome of the sky, surrounded by the mountain
pillars and columns from God’s own workshop, opened before him as the
mightiest of temples.
The old man had long gazed gloomily at the ground, but he suddenly
interrupted the silence and said:
“In Succoth I erected a heap of stones and called upon the Lord to be a
witness between us. But in this spot, amid this silence, it seems to me
that without memorial or sign we are sure of His presence.” Here he drew
his figure to a greater height and continued: “And I now raise mine eyes
to Thee, Adonai, and address my humble words to Thee, Jehovah, Thou
God of Abraham and of our fathers, that Thou mayst a second time be a
witness between me and this man whom Thou Thyself didst summon to Thy
service, that he might be Thy sword.”
He had uttered these words with eyes and hands uplifted, then turning to
the other, he said with solemn earnestness:
“So I ask thee Hosea, son of Nun, dost thou remember the vow which thou
and I made before the stones in Succoth?”
“I do,” was the reply. “And in sore disaster and great peril I perceived
what the Most High desired of me, and am resolved to devote to Him
all the strength of body and soul with which He has endowed me, to Him
alone, and to His people, who are also mine. Henceforward I will be
called Joshua... nor will I seek service with the Egyptians or any
foreign king; for the Lord our God through the lips of thy wife bestowed
this name upon me.”
Then Hur, with solemn earnestness, broke in: “That is what I expected to
hear and as, in this place also, the Most High is a witness between me
and thee and hears this conversation, let the vow I made in His presence
be here fulfilled. The heads of the tribes and Moses, the servant of the
Lord, appointed me to the command of the fighting-men of our people. But
now thou dost call thyself Joshua, and hast vowed to serve no other
than the Lord our God. I am well aware thou canst accomplish far greater
things as commander of an army than I, who have grown grey in driving
herds, or than any other Hebrew, by whatever name he is known, so I will
fulfil the vow sworn at Succoth. I will ask Moses, the servant of the
Lord, and the elders to confide to thee the office of commander. In
their hands will I place the decision and, because I feel that the Most
High beholds my heart, let me confess that I have thought of thee with
secret rancor. Yet, for the welfare of the people, I will forget what
lies between us and offer thee my hand.”
With these words he held out his hand to Joshua and the latter, grasping
it, replied with generous candor:
“Thy words are manly and mine shall be also. For the sake of the people
and the cause we both serve, I will accept thy offer. Yet since thou
hast summoned the Most High as a witness and He hears me, I, too, will
not withhold one iota of the truth. The Lord Himself has summoned me to
the office of commander of the fighting-men which thou dost desire to
commit to me. It was done through Miriam, thy wife, and is my due. Yet
I recognize thy willingness to yield thy dignity to me as a praiseworthy
deed, since I know how hard it is for a man to resign power, especially
in favor of a younger one whom he does not love. Thou hast done this,
and I am grateful. I, too, have thought of thee with secret rancor; for
through thee I lost another possession harder for a man to renounce than
office: the love of woman.”
The hot blood mounted into Hur’s cheeks, as he exclaimed:
“Miriam! I did not force her into marriage; nay I did not even purchase
her, according to the custom of our fathers, with the bridal dowry--she
became my wife of her own free will.”
“I know it,” replied Joshua quietly, “yet there was one man who had
yearned to make her his longer and more ardently than thou, and the fire
of jealousy burned fiercely in his heart. But have no anxiety; for wert
thou now to give her a letter of divorce and lead her to me that I might
open my arms and tent to receive her, I would exclaim:
“Why hast thou done this thing to thyself and to me? For a short time
ago I learned what woman’s love is, and that I was mistaken when I
believed Miriam shared the ardor of my heart. Besides, during the march
with fetters on my feet, in the heaviest misfortune, I vowed to devote
all the strength and energy of soul and body to the welfare of our
people. Nor shall the love of woman turn me from the great duty I have
taken upon myself. As for thy wife, I shall treat her as a stranger
unless, as a prophetess, she summons me to announce a new message from
the Lord.”
With these words he held out his hand to his companion and, as Hur
grasped it, loud voices were heard from the fighting-men, for messengers
were climbing the mountain, who, shouting and beckoning, pointed to the
vast cloud of dust that preceded the march of the tribes.