g
kindred. Many a father led his boy by the hand, and many a mother
carried her child in her arms; the multitude drawing near contained
numerous beloved relatives to be greeted, and the coming dawn could not
fail to bring solemn hours of which one would wish no beloved heart to
be deprived, and which would linger in the souls of the little ones till
they themselves had children and grandchildren.

No bed in tent, hovel, or house was occupied; for everywhere the
final packing was going on. The throng of workers at the granaries had
lessened; most of them were now supplied with as much food as they could
carry.

Men and women equipped for travelling lay around fires hurriedly lighted
in front of many tents and houses, and in the larger farms shepherds
were driving the cattle and slaughtering the oxen and sheep which were
unable to go with the people. The blows of axes and hammers and the
creaking of saws were heard in front of many a house; for litters to
transport the sick and feeble must be made. Carts and wains were still
to be loaded, and the heads of families had a hard task with the women;
for a woman's heart often clings more closely to things apparently
worthless than to those of the greatest value. When the weaver Rebecca
was more eager to find room in the cart for the rude cradle in which her
darling had died, than for the beautiful ebony chest inlaid with ivory
an Egyptian had pawned to her husband, who could blame her?

Light shone from all the window openings and tent doors, while from the
roofs of the largest houses the blaze of torches or lanterns greeted the
approaching Hebrews.

At the banquet served on the night of the harvest festival, no table had
lacked a roast lamb; during this hour of waiting the housewife offered
her family what she could.

The narrow streets of the humble little town were full of active life,
and never had the setting stars shone upon features so cheerful, eyes
sparkling so brightly with enthusiasm, and faces so transfigured by hope
and devout piety.

CHAPTER XII.

When morning dawned, all who had not gone down to meet the fugitives who
were to make their first long halt here, had assembled on the roof of
one of the largest houses in Succoth.

One after another fleet-footed man or boy, hurrying in advance of the
rest, had reached Succoth. Amminadab's house was the goal sought by the
majority. It consisted of two buildings, one occupied by Naashon,
the owner's son,