The Brook Kerith Part 11

It pa.s.sed under rocks and between rocks to the very brink of the precipice as it descended towards the bridge that spanned the brook some hundreds of feet lower down. Already our a.s.ses scent a stable, Jesus said; he called after them to stop, and the obedient animals stopped and began to seek among the stones for a tuft of gra.s.s or a bramble. I see no place here for a hermitage, Joseph said, only roosts for choughs and crows. There have been hermits here always, Jesus answered. We shall pa.s.s the ruins of ancient hermitages farther down on this side above the bridge. The bridge was built by hermits who came from India, Jesus said.

And was destroyed, Joseph interjected, by the Romans, so that they might capture the robbers that infested the caves. But the Essenes must have repaired the bridge lately, Jesus replied, and he asked Joseph how long the Essenes had been at the Brook Kerith. My camel-driver did not say, Joseph answered, and Jesus pointed to the ledge that the Essenes must have chosen for a dwelling: it cannot be else, he said; there is no other ledge large enough to build upon in the ravine; and behind the ledge thou seest up yonder is the large cave whither the ravens came to feed Elijah. If the brethren are anywhere they are on that ledge, in that cave, and he asked Joseph if his eyes could not follow the building of a balcony: thine eyes cannot fail to see it, for it is plain to mine.

Joseph said he thought he could discern the balcony. But how do we reach it? We aren't angels, he said. We shall ascend, Jesus answered, by a path going back and forth, through many terraces. Lead on, Joseph answered. But stay, let us admire the bridge they have built and the pepper-trees that border it. I am glad the Romans spared the trees, for men that live in this solitude deserve the beauty of these pepper-trees.

Jesus said: yonder is the path leading to the source of the brook; fledged at this season with green reeds and rushes. They have built a mill I see! turned by the brook and fed, no doubt, by the wheat thy camels bring from Moab. But the Essenes seem late at work this morning.

As he spoke these words an old man appeared on the balcony, and Joseph said: that must be Hazael, but his beard has gone very white. It is Hazael, our president, Jesus answered. Let us go to him at once, and still driving the a.s.ses in front of them and carrying the puppies in their arms they worked their way up through the many terraces; not one is more than three feet wide, yet in every one are fig-trees, Jesus remarked, and there seem to be vines everywhere, for though the Essenes drink no wine, they sell their grapes to be eaten or to be turned into wine, Joseph. Our rule is not to kill, but we sell our sheep, and alas!

some go to the Temple and are offered in sacrifice. I used to weep for my sheep, he muttered, but in this world----

The steep ascent checked further speech, and they walked to the east and then to the west, back and forth, fifty little journeys taking them up to the cen.o.by. The great door was opened to them at once, and Hazael came forward to meet them, giving his left hand to Joseph and his right to Jesus, whom he drew to his bosom. So, my dear Jesus, thou hast come back to us, Hazael said, and he looked into Jesus' face inquiringly, learning from it that it would not be well to ask Jesus for the story of what had befallen him during the last three years; and Joseph gave thanks that Hazael was possessed of a mind that saw into recesses and appreciated fine shades.

We are glad to have thee back again, Jesus; and thou hast come to stay, and perhaps to take charge of our flock again, which needs thy guidance.

How so? Jesus asked. Hasn't the flock prospered under Brother Amos? Ah!

that is a long story, Hazael answered. We'll tell it thee when the time comes. But thou hast brought dogs with thee, and of the breed that our shepherds are always seeking.

It was thus that Jesus and Hazael began to talk to each other, leaving Joseph to admire the vaulting of the long dwelling, and to wander out through the embrasure on to the balcony, from whence he could see the Essenes going to their work along the terraces. Among the ruins of the hermitage on the opposite side above the bridge, a brother fondled a pet lamb while he read. He is one, Joseph said to himself, that has found the society of this cen.o.by too numerous for him, so he retired to a ruin, hoping to draw himself nearer to G.o.d. But even he must have a living thing by him; and then, his thoughts changing, he fell to thinking of the day when he would ride out to meet Jesus among the hills. His happiness was so intense in the prospect that he delighted in all he saw and heard: in the flight of doves that had just left their cotes and were flying now across the gorge, and in the soothing chant of the water rising out of the dusk.

Jesus had told him that the gorge was never without water. The spring that fed it rose out of the earth as by enchantment. Hazael's voice interrupted his reveries: would you like, Sir, to visit our house? he asked, and he threw open the door and showed a great room, common to all. On either side of it, he said, are cells, six on one side, four on the other, and into these cells the brethren retire after breaking bread, and it is in this domed gallery we sit at food. But Jesus has spoken to thee of these things, for though we do not speak to strangers of our rule of life, Jesus would not have transgressed in speaking of it to thee. Joseph asked for news of Banu, and was sorry to hear that he had been killed and partially eaten by a lion.

The tidings seemed to affect Jesus strangely; he covered his face with his hands, and Hazael repented having spoken of Banu, guessing that the hermit's death carried Jesus' thoughts into a past time that he would shut out for ever from his mind. He atoned, however, for his mistake by an easy transition which carried their discourse into an explanation of the dissidence that had arisen among the brethren, and which, he said, compelled us to come hither. The Essenes are celibates, and it used to be my duty to go in search of young men whom I might judge to be well disposed towards G.o.d, and to bring them hither with me so that they might see what our life is, and, discovering themselves to be true servants of the Lord, adopt a life as delightful and easy to those who love G.o.d truly as it is hard to them whose thoughts are set on the world and its pleasures. I have travelled through Palestine often in search of such young men, and many who came with me are still with me. It was in Nazareth that we met, he said, and he stretched his hand to Jesus. Dost remember? And without more he pursued his story.

The brother, however, who succeeded me as missionary brought back only young men who, after a few months trial, fell away. It would be unjust for me to say that the fault was with the missionary: times are not as they used to be; the spirit of the Lord is not so rife nor so ardent now as it was once, and the dwindling of our order was the reason given for the proposal that some of us should take wives. The argument put forward was that the children born of these marriages would be more likely than other children to understand our oaths of renunciation of the world and its illusions. It was pleaded, and I doubt not in good faith, that it were better the Essenes should exist under a modified and more worldly rule than not to exist at all; and while unable to accept this view we have never ceased to admire the great sacrifice that our erstwhile brethren have made for the sake of our order. That the large majority was moved by such an exalted motive cannot be doubted; but temptations are always about; everyone is the Adam of his own soul, and there may have been a few that desired the change for less worthy motives. There was a brother----

At that moment an accidental tread sent one of the puppies howling down the dwelling, and Hazael, fearing that he might fall into the well and drown there, sent Jesus to call him back. The puppy, however, managed to escape the well in time, and the pain in his tail ceasing suddenly he ran, followed by his brother, out of the cen.o.by on to the rocks. I must go after them, for they will roll down the rocks if left to themselves, Jesus cried. A matter of little moment, Hazael replied, compared with the greater calamity of drowning himself in the well, for it is of extraordinary depth and represents the labour of years. Wonderful are the works of man, he added. But greater are the works of G.o.d, Joseph replied. You did well to correct me, Hazael answered, for one never should forget that G.o.d is over all things, and the only real significance man has, is his knowledge of G.o.d. But we were speaking of the exodus of a few monks from the great cen.o.by on the eastern side of Jordan.

We came hither for the reason that I have told. We left protesting that even if it were as our brethren said, and that the children of Essenes would be more likely than the children of Pharisees and Sadducees to choose to wors.h.i.+p G.o.d according to the spirit rather than to wear their lives away in pursuit of vain conformity to the law--even if this were so, we said, man can only love G.o.d on condition that he put women aside, for woman represents the five senses: pleasure of the eyes, of the ears, of the mouth, of the finger-tips, of the nostrils: we did not fail to point out that though our brethren might go in and unto them for worthy motives, yet in so doing they would experience pleasure, and s.e.xual pleasure leads to the pleasure of wine and food. One of the brethren said this might not be so if elderly women were chosen, and at first it seemed as if a compromise were possible. But a moment after, a brother reminded us that elderly women were not fruitful. To which I added myself another argument, that a different diet from ours is necessary to those who take wives unto themselves. Thou understandest me, Joseph?

Women have never been a temptation to me, Joseph answered, nor to Jesus, and in meditative mood he related the story of the wild man in the woods, at the entrance of whose cave Jesus had laid a knife so that he might cut himself free of temptation.

At this Hazael was much moved, and they talked of Jesus, Joseph saying that he had suffered cruelly for teaching that the Kingdom of G.o.d is in our own hearts; for to teach that religion is no more than a personal aspiration is to attack the law, which, though given to us by Moses, existed beforetimes in heaven, always observed by the angels, and to be observed by them for time everlasting. Jesus, then, set himself against the Temple? Hazael said slowly, looking into Joseph's eyes. In a measure, Joseph answered, but it was the priests who exasperated the people against him, and what I have come here for, beyond his companions.h.i.+p on the journey is to beg of you to put no questions to him. A day may come when he will tell his story if he remain with thee.

Here he is safe, Hazael said, and I pray G.o.d that he may remain with us.

But where is Jesus? Hazael asked, and they sought him in the terraces, where the monks were at work among the vines. See our fig-trees already in leaf. Without our figs we should hardly be able to live here, and it is thy transport that enables us to sell our grapes and our figs and the wine that we make, for we make wine, though there are some who think it would be better if we made none.

It was thou that urged Pilate to free these hills from robbers, and hadst thou not done so we shouldn't have been able to live here. But I'm thinking of so many things that I have lost thought of him whom we seek.

He cannot have pa.s.sed this way, unless, indeed, he descended the terrace towards the bridge, and he could hardly have done that. He has gone up the hills, and they will help to put the past out of his mind. And, talking of Jesus' early life in the cen.o.by, and of his knowledge of flocks and suchlike, Hazael led Joseph through the long house and up some steps on to a rubble path. The mountain seems to be crumbling, Joseph said, and looked askance at the quiet room built on the very verge of the abyss. Where thou'lt sleep when thou honourest us with a visit, Hazael said, which will be soon, we trust, he continued; for we owe a great deal to thee, as I have already explained, and now thou com'st with a last gift--our shepherd.

On these words they pa.s.sed under an overhanging rock which Joseph said would fall one day. One day, replied the Essene, all the world will fall, and I wish we were as safe from men as we are from this rock. Part of the bridge over the brook is of wood and it can be raised. But the ledge on which we live can be reached only from the hills by this path, and it would be possible to raid us from this side. Thou seest here a wall, a poor one, it is true; but next year we hope to build a much stronger wall, some twenty feet high and several feet in thickness, and then we shall be secure against the robbers if they would return to their caves. We have little or nothing to steal, but wicked men take pleasure in despoiling even when there is nothing to gain: our content would fill them with displeasure, he said, as he sought the key.

But on trying the door it was found to be unlocked, and Joseph said: it will be no use building a wall twenty feet high to secure yourself from robbers if you leave the door unlocked. It was Jesus that left the door unlocked, Hazael answered, he must have pa.s.sed this way, we shall find him on the hillside; and Joseph stood amazed at the uprolling hills and their quick descents into stony valleys. Beyond that barren hill there is some pasturage, Hazael said; and in search of Jesus they climbed summit after summit, hoping always to catch sight of him playing with his dogs in the shadow of some rocks, but he was nowhere to be seen, and Hazael could not think else than that he had fallen in with Amos and yielded to the beguilement of the hills, for he has known them, Hazael continued, since I brought him here from Nazareth, a lad of fifteen or sixteen years, not more. We shall do better to return and wait for him.

He will remember us presently. To which Joseph answered, that since he was so near Jericho he would like to go thither; a great pile of business awaited his attention there, and he begged Hazael to tell Jesus that he would return to bid him good-bye on his way back to Jerusalem that evening, if it were possible to do so.

CHAP. XXV.

It was as Hazael had guessed: the puppies had scampered up the loose pathway leading to the hills; Jesus had let them through the door, and had followed them up the hills, saying to himself: they have got the scent of sheep.

The stubborn, unruly ground lay before him just as he remembered it, falling into hollows but rising upwards always, with still a little gra.s.s between the stones, but not enough to feed a flock, he remarked, as he wandered on, watching the sunrise unfolding, and thinking that Amos should be down by the Jordan, and would be there, he said to himself, no doubt, were it not for the wild beasts that have their lairs in the thickets. Whosoever redeems the shepherd from the danger of lions, he added, as he climbed up the last ascents, will be the great benefactor. But the wolves perhaps kill more sheep than lions, being more numerous. It was at this moment that Brother Amos came into sight, and he walked so deep in meditation that he might have pa.s.sed Jesus without seeing him if Jesus had not called aloud.

Why, Jesus, it is thou, as I'm alive, come back to us at last. Well, we've been expecting thee this long while. And thou hast not come back too soon, as my poor flock testifies. I'm ashamed of them; but thou'lt not speak too harshly of my flock to Hazael, who thinks if he complains enough he'll work me up into a good shepherd despite my natural turn for an indoor life. But I'd not have thee think that the flock perished through my fault, and see in them a lazy shepherd lying always at length on the hillside. I walk with them in search of pasture from daylight till dark, wearing my feet away, but to no purpose, as any man can see though he never laid eyes on a sheep before. But it was thou, Brother, that recommended me for a shepherd, and I can think of naught but my love of wandering with thee on the hills, and listening to thee prating of rams and ewes, that put it into my head that I was a shepherd by nature and thy successor.

Thou wast brought up to the flock from thy boyhood, and a ram's head has more interest for thee than a verse of Scripture; thy steady, easy gait was always the finest known on these hills for leading a flock; but my feet pain me after a dozen miles, and a shepherd with corny feet is like a bird with a torn wing. Thou understandest the hards.h.i.+p of a shepherd, and that one isn't a shepherd for willing it; and I rely on thee, Brother, to take my part and to speak up for me when Hazael puts questions to thee. So thou wouldst be freed from the care of the flock?

Jesus said. My only wish, he answered. But thou'lt make it clear to Hazael that it was for lack of a good ram the flock fell away. I gave thee over a young ram with the flock, one of the finest on these hills, Jesus said. Thou didst; and he seemed like coming into such a fine beast, Amos answered, that we hadn't the heart to turn him among the ewes the first year but bred from the old fellow. An old ram is a waste, Jesus replied, and he would have said more if Amos had not begun to relate the death of the fine young beast that Jesus had bred for the continuance of the flock. We owe the loss of him, he said, to a ewe that no shepherd would look twice at, one of the ugliest in the flock, she seemed to me to be and to everybody that laid his eyes on her, and she ought to have been put out of the flock, but though uninviting to our eyes she was longed for by another ram, and so ardently that he could not abide his own ewes and became as a wild sheep on the hills, always on the prowl about my flock, seeking his favourite, and she casting her head back at him nothing loath.

It would have been better if I had turned the evil ewe out of the flock, making him a present of her, but I kept on foiling him; and my own ram, taking rage against this wild one, challenged him, and one day, seeing me asleep on the hillside, the wild ram came down and with a great bleat summoned mine to battle. It seemed to me that heaven was raining thunderbolts, so loud was the noise of their charging; and looking out of my dreams I saw the two rams backing away from each other, making ready for another onset. My ram's skull was the softer, he being a youngling, it had been already shaken in several charges, and it was broken in this last one, a terrible one it was, I can still hear them, they are still at it in my mind--the ewes of both flocks gathered on different sides, spectators.

But where were thy dogs all this while? Jesus inquired. My dogs! If I'd had a Thracian he never would have suffered that the sheep killed each other. A Thracian would have awakened me. My dogs are of the soft Syrian breed given to growling and no more. The wild ram might have become tame again, and would doubtless have stayed with me as long as I had the ewe; but he might have refused to serve any but she. No man can say how it would have ended if I had not killed him in my anger. So thou wast left, Jesus remarked, without a serviceable ram. With naught, Amos sighed, but the old one, and he was that weary of jumping that he began to think more of his fodder than ewes. Without money one can't get a well-bred ram, as I often said to Hazael, but he answered me always that he had no money to give me, and that I must do as well as I could with the ram I had.... He is gone now, but before he died he ruined my flock.

It is true that the shepherd's labour is wasted without a good ram, Jesus repeated. Thou speakest but the truth, Amos replied; and knowing the truth, forget not to speak well of me to Hazael, as a shepherd, finding reason that will satisfy him for the dwindling of the flock that henceforth will be in thy charge. Jesus said that he was willing to resume his charge, but did not know if Hazael and the brethren would receive him back into the order after his long absence. Amos seemed to think that of that there could be no doubt. All will be glad to have thee back ... thou'rt too useful for them to slight thee, he cried back, and Jesus returned to the cen.o.by dreaming of some grand strain that would restore the supremacy of the flock.

As he pa.s.sed down the gallery Hazael, who was sitting on the balcony, cried to him; Joseph, he said, waited an hour and has gone; he had business to transact in Jericho. But, Jesus, what ails thee? It seems strange, Jesus answered, he should have gone away like this. But have I not told thee, Jesus, that he will return this evening to wish thee good-bye. But he may not be able to return this evening, Jesus replied.

That is so, Hazael rejoined. He said that he might have to return to Jerusalem at once, but he will not fail to ride out to meet thee in a few days. But he will not find me on the hills, no tryst has been made, Jesus said, as he turned away; and guessing his intention to be to leave at once for Jericho, Hazael spoke of Joseph's business in Jericho, and how displeased he might be to meet Jesus in the middle of his business and amongst strangers. The Essenes are not well looked upon in Jerusalem, he said. We do not send fat rams to the Temple. Fat rams, Jesus repeated. Amos has been telling me that what lacks is a ram, and the community had not enough money to buy one. That is true, Hazael said. Rams are hard to get even for a great deal of money. Joseph might lend us the money, he is rich. He will do that, Jesus answered, and be glad to do it. But a ram must be found, and if thou'lt give me all the money thou hast I will go in search of one. Joseph will remit to thee the money I have taken from thee when he returns. It will be a surprise for him to find in the flock a great fine ram of the breed that I remember to have seen on the western hills. I'll start at daybreak. Thou shalt have our shekels, Hazael said; they are few, but the Lord be with thee and his luck.

CHAP. XXVI.

His was the long, steady gait of the shepherd, and he had not proceeded far into the hills before he was looking round acknowledging them, one after the other; they were his friends, and his sheep's friends, having given them pasturage for many a year; and the oak wood's shade had been friendly beforetimes to himself and his sheep. And he was going to rest in its shade once more. At noon he would be there, glad of some water; for though the day was still young the sun was warm, the sky told him that before noon his tongue would be cleaving to the sides of his mouth; a fair prediction this was, for long before the oak wood came into sight he had begun to think of the well at the end of the wood, and the quality of the water he would find in it, remembering that it used to hold good water, but the shepherds often forgot to replace the stopper and the water got fouled.

As he walked his comrades of old time kept rising up in his memory one by one; their faces, even their hands and feet, and the stories they told of their dogs, their fights with the wild beasts, and the losses they suffered from wolves and lions in the jungles along the Jordan. In old times these topics were the substance of his life, and he wished to hear the shepherds' rough voices again, to look into their eyes, to talk sheep with them, to plunge his hands once more into the greasy fleeces, yes, and to vent his knowledge, so that if he should happen to come upon new men they would see that he, Jesus, had been at the job before.

Now the day seems like keeping up, he said; but there was a certain fear in his heart that the valleys would be close and hot in the afternoon and the hill-tops uninviting. But his humour was not for fault-finding; and with the ram in view always--not a long-legged brute with a face like a ewe upon him, but a broad, compact animal with a fine woolly head--he stepped out gaily, climbing hill after hill, enjoying his walk and interested in his remembrance of certain rams he had once seen near Caesarea, and in his hope of possessing himself of one of these. With money enough upon me to buy one, he kept saying to himself, I shouldn't come back empty-handed. But, O Lord, the the day is hot, he cried at the end of the fourth hour. But yonder is the oak wood; and he stopped to think out the whereabouts of the well. A moment after he caught sight of a shepherd: who is, no doubt, by the well, he said. He is, and trying to lift out the stopper; and the shepherd, catching sight of Jesus, called him to come to his help, saying that it would need their united strength to get it out. We're moving it, the shepherd cried after a bit. We are, Jesus replied. How is the water? Fair enough if thy thirst be fierce, the shepherd replied. There is better about a mile from here, but I see thou'rt thirsty.

As soon as the men had quenched their thirst, the sheep came forward, each waiting his turn, as is their wont; and when the flock was watered it sought the shade of a great oak, and the twain, sitting under the burgeoning branches, began to talk. It was agreed between them that it would not do to advise anybody to choose shepherding as a trade at present, for things seemed to be going more than ever against the shepherd; the wild animals in the thickets along the Jordan had increased, and the robbers, though many had been crucified, were becoming numerous again; these did not hesitate to take a ewe or wether away with them, paying little for it, or not paying at all. But art thou a shepherd? Jesus answered that he had been a shepherd--an erstwhile Essene, he said; one that has returned to the brethren. The Essenes are good to the poor, the shepherd said, and glad to hear he was talking to a mate, he continued his complaint, to which Jesus gave heed, knowing well that it would not be long before they would be speaking of the breed of sheep best suited to the hills; the which came to pa.s.s, for, like Jesus, he lacked a good ram, and for the want of one, he said, his flock had declined. The better the breed, he continued, the more often it required renewing, and his master would not pay money for new blood, so he was thinking of leaving him; and to justify his intention he pointed out the ram to Jesus that was to serve the flock that autumn, asking him how a shepherd could earn with such a one the few lambs that he receives in payment if the flock increase under his care. He's four years old if he's a day, Jesus muttered. He is that, the shepherd answered; yet master told me yesterday he must serve another season, for he won't put his hand in his pocket, rams being so dear; but nothing, say I, is dearer than an old ram. I'm with thee in that, Jesus answered; and my plight is the same as thine. I'm searching for a ram, and have a friend who would pay a great sum of money for one if one of the style I am looking for can be found.

Well, luck will be with thee, but I know no ram on these hills that I'd pay money for, the shepherd answered, none we see is better than yon beast, and he is what thou seest him to be, a long-backed, long-legged, ugly ram that would be pretty tough under the tooth, and whose fleece a shepherd would find thin in winter-time.

But there were once fine sheep on these hills, Jesus answered, and I remember a ram---- Ay, mate, thou mayest well remember one, and I think I know the shepherd that thou'rt thinking of, but he that owns the breed will not sell a ram for the great sums of money that have been offered to him, for his pride is to keep the breed to himself. We've tried to buy, and been watching this long while for a lucky chance to drive one away, for a man that has more than he needs and will not sell aught thereof calls the thief down into his house, as it were, creating the thief out of an honest man, for which he deserves to be punished. But the rich are never punished and this man's shepherds are wary, and his dogs are fierce, and none has succeeded yet in getting a sample of the breed.

But where may this man be found? Jesus asked, and the shepherd mentioned a village high up on the mountains over against the sea. But go not thither, for twenty miles is a long walk if the end of it be but jeers and a scoffing. A scoffing! Jesus returned. Ay, and a fine one in thine ears; and a fine thirst upon thee, the shepherd continued, and turning to the oak-tree he began to cut branches to feed his goats. Twenty miles uphill in front of me, Jesus meditated, with jeers and scoffings at the end of the journey, of which I have had plenty; and he began to walk quickly and to look round the hills in search of pasture for a flock, for these hills were but faintly known to him. It isn't reasonable that a man will not part with a ram for a great sum of money, he said, and though he may not sell the lamb to his neighbours, whom he knows for rascals, he may sell to the Essenes, whose report is good. And he continued his way, stopping very often to think how he might find a bypath that would save him a climb; for the foot-hills running down from west to east, off the main range, formed a sort of gigantic ridge and furrow broken here and there, and whenever he met a shepherd he asked him to put him in the way of a bypath; and with a word of counsel from a shepherd and some remembrance he discovered many pa.s.ses; but despite these easy ways the journey began to seem very long, so long that it often seemed as if he would never arrive at the village he was seeking.

He told me I'd find it on the last ridge looking seaward. He said I couldn't miss it; and shading his eyes with his hand, Jesus caught sight of some roofs that he had not seen before. Maybe the roofs, he said, of the village in which I shall find my ram, and maybe he who will sell me the ram sits under that sycamore. If such be my fortune he will rise to meet me, Jesus continued, and he strove against the faintness coming over him. Is there a fountain? he asked. By that arch the fountain flows, drink thy fill, wayfarer. His sight being darkened he could not see the arch but stumbled against it and stood there, his face white and drawn, his hand to his side, till, unable to bear up any longer, he fell.

Somebody came to him with water, and after drinking a little he revived, and said he could walk alone, but as soon as they loosed him he fell again, and when lifted from the ground a second time he asked for the inn, saying he had come a long way. Whereupon a man said, thou shalt rest in my house; I guess thee to be a shepherd, though thy garb isn't altogether a shepherd's. But my house is open to him who needs food and shelter. Lean on my arm.

Let me untie thy sandals, were the next words Jesus heard, and when his feet were bathed and he had partaken of food and drink and was rested, the villager, whom Jesus guessed to be a shepherd, began to ask him about the length of the journey from Jericho to Caesarea: we're three hours from Caesarea, he said; thou must have been walking many hours.

Many hours indeed, Jesus answered. I've come from the Brook Kerith, which is five miles from Jericho. From the Brook Kerith? the villager repeated. A shepherd I guessed thee to be. And a fair guess, Jesus answered. A shepherd I am and in search of a ram of good breeding, sent on hither by a shepherd. He did but make sport of thee, the villager answered, for it is I that own the breed that all men would have. So a shepherd sent thee hither to buy a ram from me? No, Jesus replied, he said thou wouldst not sell. Then he was an honester shepherd than I thought for: he would have saved thee a vain journey, and it would have been well hadst thou listened to his counsel, for I will not part with the breed; and my hope is that my son will not be tempted to part with the breed, for it is through our sheep that we have made our riches, such small riches as we possess, he added, lest he should appear too rich in the eyes of a stranger. If thou'lt not sell I must continue my journey farther, Jesus answered. In quest of a ram? the shepherd said.

But thou'lt not find any but long-backed brutes tucked up in the belly that offend the eye and are worse by far than a hole in the pocket. With such rams the hills abound. But get thee the best, though the best may be bad, for every man must work according to his tools.

If thou asked me for anything but my breed of sheep I would have given it, for thy face and thy speech please me, but as well ask me for my wife or my daughter as for my rams. Be it so, Jesus answered, and he rose to continue his way, but his host said that having taken meat and drink in his house he must sleep in it too, and Jesus, being tired, accepted the bed offered to him. He could not have fared farther; there was no inn nor public guest-room, and in the morning his host might be in the humour to part with a ram for a great sum of money. But the morning found his host in the same humour regarding his breed of sheep--determined to keep it; but in all other things willing to serve his guest. Jesus bade him good-bye, sorry he could not persuade him but liking him all the same.

In two hours he was near the cultivated lands of Caesarea, and it seemed to him that his best chance of getting news of a ram would be to turn westward, and finding bed and board in every village, he travelled far and wide in search of the fine rams that he had once caught sight of in those parts. But the rams of yore seemed to have disappeared altogether from the country: thou mayest journey to Caesarea and back again, but thou'lt not find anything better than that I offer thee one man said to Jesus, whereupon Jesus turned his back upon Caesarea and began the return journey sad and humble, but with hope still a-flutter in his heart, for he continued to inquire after rams all the way till he came one bright morning to the village in which lived the owner of the great breed of sheep that he coveted, honourably coveted, he muttered to himself, but coveted heartily.

The sun was well up at the time, and Jesus had come by the road leading up from the coast. He had pa.s.sed over the first ridge, and had begun to think that he must be near the village in which the man lived who owned the great breed of sheep when his thoughts were interrupted by a lamb bleating piteously, and, looking round, he saw one running hither and thither, seeking his dam. Now the lamb seeming to him a fine one, he was moved to turn back to the village to tell the man he had lodged with that a lamb of his breed had lost the ewe. Thou sayest well, the man answered, and that lamb will seek vainly, for the ewe hurt her hoof, and we kept her in the house so that she might be safer than with my shepherd out on the hills, and the luck we have had is that a panther broke into our garden last night. We thought he had killed the lamb as well, but he only took the ewe, and the lamb thou bringest me tidings of will be dead before evening. My thanks to thee, shepherd, for thy pains. But, said Jesus, thou'lt sell me the lamb that runs bleating after ewe, on the chance that I shall rear him? Whereat the villager smiled and said: it seems hard to take thy money for naught, for thou hast a pleasant face; but who knows what luck may be with thee. For a shekel thou shalt have the lamb. Jesus paid the shekel, and his eyes falling upon a bush in whose stems he knew he should find plenty of sap, he cut some six or seven inches off, and, having forced out the sap, showed it to the villager, and asked him for a rag to tie round the end of it. I hardly know yet what purpose thou'lt put this stem to, the shepherd said, but he gave Jesus the rag he asked for, and Jesus answered: I've a good supply of ewe's milk drawn from the udder scarce an hour ago. Thou hast ewe's milk in thy bottle! the villager said. Then it may be I shall lose my breed through thoughtlessness. And it was with a grave face that he watched Jesus tie a rag around the hollow stem.

He put the stem into the lamb's jaws and poured milk down it, feeding the lamb as well as the ewe could have done. It may be I shall get him home alive, Jesus muttered to himself. Thou'lt do it, if luck be with thee, and if thou canst rear him my breed has pa.s.sed from me. Thou'lt be rewarded for taking my shekel, Jesus answered. A fine lamb for a month, the villager remarked. One that will soon begin to weigh heavy in my bosom, Jesus answered; a true prophecy, for after a few miles Jesus was glad to let him run by his side; and knowing now no other mother but Jesus, he trotted after him as he might after the ewe: divining perhaps, Jesus said to himself, the leathern bottle at my girdle.

But very soon Jesus had to carry him again, and, despite his weight, they were at noon by the well at the end of the oak wood. Lamb, we'll sleep awhile together in a pleasant hollow at the edge of the wood. Lay thyself down and doze. The lamb was obedient, but before long he awoke Jesus with his bleating. He wants some milk, he said, and undid the leather girdle and placed the feeding-pipe into the lamb's mouth. But before giving him milk he was moved to taste it: for if the milk be sour---- The milk has soured, he said, and the poor bleating thing will die in the wood, his bleatings growing fainter and fainter. He'll look into my face, wondering why I do not give him the bottle from which he took such a good feed only a few hours ago; and while Jesus was thinking these things the lamb began to bleat for his milk, and as Jesus did not give it to him he began to run round in search of the ewe, and Jesus let him run, hoping that a wild beast would seize and carry him away and with his fangs end the lamb's sufferings quicker than hunger could.