Hiram surprised himself at the heartiness with which he laughed at the story, and matched it with one he pretended to have heard some Jews relate as belonging to their national traditions. "Your great general, Joshua, one day was taken with a chill in the midst of a battle. He could not even give the commands, but only chattered with the cold. Then he bethought him to order the sun to come down and hang just over his head. It floated there like a red-hot shield until he had killed every man among the enemy. But who told you of the miracle at Tyre?" "Why," said Benjamin, "the priests themselves. Two were along here yesterday." "They were not priests," said Ephraim. "They were, though," rejoined Benjamin. "Mother Eve once mistook a snake for an honest creature; but I know a snake's wriggle and a priest's wriggle, in whatever disguise they may be. You could not be a priest of Baal if you tried, stranger. Your face is too honest. But those fellows yesterday--at least one of them--could not cast his priest's skin, though he was dressed like a merchant. He looked as if he wanted to glide down under the stones there, as they say the Baalite priests live half the time in the vaults under their temples, pulling strings to make their gods move, and talking up through holes to answer the prayers of the silly people." "What were they doing here in the Jews' land?" asked Hiram. "They said they were searching for a young Tyrian who had fallen heir to a fortune, who was travelling hereabouts, and did not know his good luck. May be you are the happy man." "I wish I were," replied Hiram, "if for no other reason than to get rid of a very disagreeable journey. I must cross the lake at once, and go as far away as Bozrah. The king's business keeps one as lively as a flea. I must have a boat." "You have only to pick it out; we have enough lazy fellows to sail it," replied Benjamin, rising and looking along a row of boats. "I would go alone," said Hiram. "I can leave with you the price of the boat against my getting wrecked, or being swallowed by this terrific sun of yours, whose heat must make him thirsty enough to drink up your little sea." "Despise not its littleness," replied the Jew. "It is as strong as the very dragon in the sky when it gets to rolling and writhing under the Lord's frown." "A Phoenician can tame any sea 'twixt Tyre and Tartesus. The heaviest winds that roar over Galilee would be only as the song of a sea-bird to a sailor on the main," said Hiram. "Leave, then, your money, and sail it or sink with it, as you like," replied the rough fisherman. CHAPTER XVI. Hiram's experience enabled him to select the best among the boats, though it was one of the smallest. A package of smoked fish, a pile of thin bread cakes, and a bag of dates sufficiently provisioned his craft; and within a few moments he had pushed from shore.