n tried to pull the
boat around, but the wind had caught them. The boat swung broadside and
lurched dangerously in the trough of the waves. Water poured in. Simon
stepped swiftly to the center and sat down beside James. Together they
pulled the heavy oar; after a tense moment the boat swung slowly around.

"We've got to bail this water out," said Simon. More came over the side
with each roll.

"If we don't get this water out, we'll never get to shore," shouted
Simon.

"What can we do?" cried the Zealot. Waves continued to leap over the
side into the boat. Desperately the men tried to bail out the water.
"We'll never make it!" they cried, seized by panic.

Andrew clutched John's shoulder. "Look! What's that?" He pointed out
into the blackness.

"It's a ghost!" screamed one of the Twelve. The men forgot the waves.
Terror gripped them. "O Father in heaven," cried Simon, "save us!"

"Do not be afraid! It is I!"

Gradually it came to the men that it was the voice of Jesus they were
hearing. "Oh, save us. Master!" Fear began to melt away. Jesus was in
their midst.

"Why are you terrified?" he asked. "Have you no faith, even after being
with me all this time?"

The white crest on the waves disappeared. The boat lay deep in the
water, but danger was past. Almost afraid to look, the disciples turned
to Jesus. Who could he be--that he had power to calm the storm?

"Did I not give life to the little child in Capernaum?" said Jesus. "Did
I not give bread to the hungry crowds? Do you not yet understand?"

[Illustration]

10. "YOU ARE THE CHRIST"

The household of Symeon the Pharisee was stirring with excitement.
During the day the servants had put the house in perfect order, and now
the cooks were preparing a banquet for the evening. Symeon himself was
trying to make up his mind whether he should wear his highly ornamented
robe. Finally he decided against it and chose another with fine cloth
but very few trimmings. A sensible Pharisee did not try to dress too
elegantly when an important official was to be his guest.

The banquet table was beautiful. The servants had lighted candles to
celebrate the victory of the great Jewish general, Judas Maccabaeus, who
had driven foreign tyrants out of Palestine and purified the Temple two
hundred years before. There was roast lamb, deliciously cooked, and all
the best food which Symeon could afford to set before his guest of
honor. Nothing could be too good for a scrib