These apparitions gave credit to rumors that the sheikhs of various tribes were preparing to side with the Greeks. These rumors were at first without intelligible basis, for nothing had as yet occurred to clearly prove any breach of neighborly relations between the peasants of Judea and the herdsmen of the Jordan and eastward. It was as when a coming storm heralds itself to the instincts of birds and cattle, and sets the tree-toads croaking before any shred of a cloud appears in the sky. Judas sent his scouts eastward. They reported the fleecy indications of unsettled political weather in the multitude of tents which were gathered in hitherto unoccupied positions in the valley of the Jordan and the mountainous regions beyond. The tribesmen were massing. For this there could be but one purpose--to strike Judas' rear. This discovery, which discouraged others, stimulated the champion to keener thought and buoyancy. He had the joy of a sailor at the prospect of high seas. Yet Judas had his times of moodiness. Jonathan had often remarked to Simon that these spells were never produced by danger, but either by something in Judas' physical condition, or some mysterious sentiment that made him its victim. The report that Deborah had left the city, or something which timed itself with that announcement, now plunged him into the depths. He brooded stolidly. His alertness of faculty took on a seeming lethargy. His brethren tried to rouse him by the news of the movements of the new Greek armies under Gorgias and Nicanor and Lycias, who were reported to have passed down the valley of the Litany, that portal of Syria between the Lebanon ranges through which the invaders of Israel had so often come. "We must put our men in motion," urged Jonathan. "Aye," was Judas' laconic response. "But when shall we move?" was eagerly asked. "When the time comes." "But when will the time come?" "When I say so." And Judas turned away. XXXI THE SHEIKHS Deborah's flight from the city had not been for her own personal safety, else she would have taken Caleb with her. When she emerged from the crevice, instead of going northward toward the fastnesses of the Maccabæans, she turned to the east, at first keeping close to the city wall. The night was dark except for the occasional flashes of lightning, the couriers of a coming storm. In the momentary glare she took in the stations of the few Greek sentinels who patrolled the immediate fields. They were looking for no danger from the direction of the walls, but peered outward, questioning with spear-point every shadow which the sudden flashes projected beyond the rocks and bushes.