The Yoke: A Romance of the Days when the Lord Redeemed the Children of Israel from the Bondage of Egypt — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
The Yoke: A Romance of the Days when the Lord Redeemed the Children of Israel from the Bondage of Egypt
John Stuart Mill · en
A long line of old men, two abreast, the wind making the picture
awesome as it tossed their beards and gray robes, followed the
Lawgiver. After these several litters, borne by young men, proceeded
in imposing order.
Except for the raving of the tempest there was no sound in Israel.
A double file of camels with sumptuous housings moved with dignified
and unhasty tread after the litters. By this time, the foremost ranks
of the procession were some distance ahead, the limit of radiance just
in advance, and lighting with special tenderness the funeral ark. Here
were the bones of that noblest son of Jacob. Having brought Israel
into Egypt, Joseph was leading it forth again.
Pools, lighted by the ray, glowed like sheets of gold, darkling here
and there with shadow; long ledges of rock, bearded with deep-water
growth, sparkled rarely in the light; stretches of sodden sand, colored
with salts of the waters, and littered with curious fish-life, lay
between.
Where was the sea?
After the camels followed a score of mules, little and trim in contrast
to the tall shaggy beasts ahead of them. They were burden-bearing
animals, precious among Israel, for they were laden with the records of
the tribes, much treasure in jewels and fine stuffs, incense, writing
materials, and such things as the people would need, and were not to be
had from among them, or like to be found in the places to which they
might come. These passed and their drivers with them.
The next moment, Kenkenes was caught in the center of a rushing wave of
humanity. He fought off the consternation that threatened to seize him
and tried to care for himself, but a reed on the breast of the Nile at
flood could not have been more helpless. Behind Israel were the
Egyptians, ahead of it miraculous escape; the one impulse of the
multitude was flight. That any remembered his mate or his children,
his goods, his treasure or his cattle, was a marvel.
The foremost ranks, moving in directly behind the leaders, had adopted
their pace. Furthermore, as the advance-guard, they had a greater
sense of security, and before them was all the east open for flight.
Not so with the hindmost; they were near the dreaded place from which
the army would descend; ahead of them was a deliberate host; within
them, soul-consuming fear and panic. The rear rushed, the forward
ranks walked, and the center caught between was jammed into a compact
mass.
Neither halt nor escape was possible. Press as the hindmost might upon
those forward, the pace was slackened, instead of quickened. The
advance grew slower as it extended back through the ranks, for each
succeeding line lost a modicum in the length of the step, till at the
rear they were pushing hard and barely moving. No wonder they sobbed,
prayed, panted, surged, swayed and pressed. How they reviled the
snail-like leaders, not knowing that the sturdy pace lagged in the body
of the multitude. So they hasted and progressed only inch by inch.