German fiction -- Translations into English; Palestine -- History -- Fiction
It refreshed Ephraim like a cool drink after long thirsting, and he could
not refrain from shouting aloud and crying joyously to the others:
"Saved, saved!" Two tribes had already reached the eastern shore of the
bay and were raising the glad shouts which, with the fires blazing in
huge pans on the shore, kindled the courage of the approaching fugitives
and braced their failing strength. Ephraim saw by their light the
majestic figure of Moses on a hill by the sea, extending his staff over
the waters, and the spectacle impressed him, like all the other
fugitives, from the highest to the lowest, more deeply than aught else
and strongly increased the courage of his heart. This man was indeed the
trusted servant of the Most High, and so long as he held his staff
uplifted, the waves seemed spell-bound, and through him God forbade their
return.
He, Ephraim, need no longer appeal to the Omnipotent One--that was the
appointed task of this great and exalted personage; but he must continue
to fulfil his little duty of watching the progress of individuals.
Back against the stream of fugitives to the lepers and torch-bearers he
hastened, shouting to each division, "Saved! Saved! They have gained
the goal. Moses' staff is staying the waves. Many have already reached
the shore. Thank the Lord! Forward, that you, too, may join in the
rejoicing! Fix your eyes on the two red beacons! The rescued ones
lighted them! The servant of the Lord is standing between them with
uplifted staff."
Then, kneeling on the wet sand, he again pressed his ear to the ground,
and now heard distinctly, close at hand, the rattle of wheels and the
swift beat of horses' hoofs.
But while still listening, the noise gradually ceased, and he heard
nothing save the howling of the furious storm and the threatening dash of
the surging waves, or a single cry borne by the east wind.
The chariots had reached the dry portion of the bay and lingered some
time ere they continued their way along this dangerous path; but suddenly
the Egyptian war-cry rang out, and the rattle of wheels was again heard.
They advanced more slowly than before but faster than the people could
walk.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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