ass, arising after he had cleaned his cudgel that seemed the emblem of his strength and prowess, grasped the mighty instrument of battle with both hands, and weighing it critically for a test of its trustiness, raised it and whirled it about his head, uttering a triumphant challenge: "We are ready again for a pass with our foe!" And Phares, a much younger man, and on terms of intimacy with Rachor, replied joyfully: "No fear of a lack of such diversion so long as the Midianites can stretch a bow and stride a beast!"
At hearing the voice of the leader, a large camel, carrying a canopied and covered wicker basket on its back, stamped through the throng of the other beasts, forcing them aside right and left, and, reaching the spot where Rachor and Phares were exchanging opinions, put its soft mouth with a smack into Rachor's face. "Merob," he protested vehemently, "down on your knees, you unmannered beast!" And he planted a vigorous slap on the busy lips of Merob with the palm of his hand. The camel instantly knelt down and heavily laid its head on the shoulder of one of the disinterested and unsuspecting members of the troop.
As Merob went down, Rachor stooped over the basket, turned aside the canopy, and raised the wicker cover.
"Are they gone?" a small frightened voice piped up from the depths of the basket.
"Yes, my pet," Rachor responded tenderly; "they are gone so far that they could not find their way back in a week. And in a week we expect to be safe within the walls of Mizraim[1] and to give our darling a holiday or two."
Meanwhile the curly head of a ten-year-old girl had
- ↑ Egypt.
