hand for the preservation of Samson-Solomon, the son of Shem ben-Noah ben-Adam.

Meanwhile, Betah, man of God, still adjured old Shem, as the two stood before the synagogue: "Swear."

"I swear."

"Yonder, then, in the place of gambling, is thy steward. Wait thou near in the shrubbery, and thou shalt see him, and not thyself go in. Remember thine oath."

"I will remember. And when I have found my steward-" He looked, being worn and weary with the terrors of the night, not at the tavern, but into the South, far in the way of his sheepfields. He forgot even the presence of the mighty Chazzan, and for this, that he thought only of his son-his son, whose ways, except for the time of a certain imprisonment, had been as the ways of peace.

CHAPTER II

OUT OF THE CAIN LIFE CALLED

PEACE indeed lay over the early morning fields and fastnesses of Cyrenaica. Even in the rock-bound fold where Samson (or Solomon) ben-Shem ben-Noah ben-Adam had slept the starlit night away, there appeared to be peace. And yet, at the side of the fold, without the thorny wall thereof, lay the carcase of a giant wolf, still stiffening and grinning hideously-a wolf which the hands of Samson-Solomon had torn asunder in the deep night and had flung in hottest hate without the walls. To attack his father's sheep! There had been no fear in the lad. He was solely anxious for his father's sheep. And now, arisen from light slumber, he dropped to his knees. "Adonai!" He could speak no further for a time. Then, "Elohim! I, who am Samson-Solomon, the son of Shem, do worship and adore thee. Hear, El-Shaddai! It is I, a shepherd lad of Cyrenaica who speaketh unto thee. It is I indeed. Thou that hast made the world, the sheep, my father and myself, I do adore thee, O Adonai! There is none like unto thee, from everlasting unto everlasting." For a while he paused as if in a fever of agony, then he cried out, all of a sudden: "Idolatry! Keep me away from idolatry, O Lord, O God! From idols and all idolatry keep thou me far away.

He ran from his place, and tore his black hair and rent his strong inner garment, and beat his head against the stones that formed the sheepfold wall. And the sheep, because of the turmoil, and also

because they were very hungry, came bleating up around him, while, far behind, indifferent, the foul-smelling goats assembled.

When thus he beheld his flocks, he began to be more at peace, for he was concerned about them.

He went and took his great crook and wide scrip, and lifting from his breast his little shepherd's pipes, placed them to his now happy lips. How the little sheep skipped and danced! He loved the sheep. He loved also to pipe to the sheep.

He opened the gate of the fold, and went on out of the place, and, counting the sheep and the goats, each one as it came from the fold in its turn, he closed up the entrance, and again began to play upon his shepherd-pipes.

And, so playing, he led both the sheep and the goats in the way which they should go, calling from time to time in the intervals of his playing: "Here, Ringstrake! Here, Blackie! What do ye, O Flower of White and Almond Blossom? Spotty, Spotty! Hither, hither, Black-eye! Keep ye close beside me, else ye be lost!" He took the flock along a thin, winding path, which now and then vanished utterly, to reappear, natheless, and run, zigzag or winding, up hills with fearful rocky rims, then down again in dark manyrecessed ravines, and round about the borders of the meadow where poisonous grasses grew, silphium and the like. One of the paths led off to a hidden precipice. Another, to a neighboring vineyard. "What, Wanderers! will ye not be led? Will ye go indeed to the neighbor's vineyards and his fields, and so be forfeited, or will ye over the precipice and be slain? Once when I myself did wander, I was captured and sold to the King of the South. Listen to another of the instruments which I shall play-a harp which lately I have built for only you, and also to a song which only for you I have made."

He played upon his harp and sang sweet songs both of brooks and of happy meadows, but ever and again he closed with words of excellence about the Lord. So he came at length to a running stream.

The goats rushed up before the sheep, and drank at once their thirsty fill, but the sheep drank not, for that the water was running. And he built a little dam at one side of the stream, formed there so a quiet pool, and all the sheep did come and drink of the still waters.

The shepherd delighted in the sheep, and he kept the goats from hurting them, and after a time he led them all far away, where excellent pasture was, and then, having taken from his scrip his bread and drink, and having eaten and drunken, he counted the sheep and

the goats again, and, playing a little while once more upon his pipe, let fall that instrument and wandered off into many strange thoughts and visions.

Now, for that the man was deeply religious from his birth, and also because this early quality had been developed and made far stronger by the deep hill-quiet in which he lived, by the sights of pastures and of stars (the excellent beauties of his shepherd world) he dreamed at first of God. In all the solitude of hill and field, the blue expanse of sky by day, the shining mazzaroth at night, he feltJehovah! El-Shaddai! Elohim! Adonai! Oh Adonai, Adonai, Adonai! Unto what should he liken Adonai? Now there came into his heart a sudden wish that he might behold Adonai. The boy's whole soul uprose from the vanities of time into the riches of eternity and God's everlasting love. "Oh Adonai!" He prayed once more unto Adonai. But still, although he was truly praying in the spirit, he was yet in his senses troubled for that he still desired to see God's very face to behold that countenance as he did behold a star, a rock, a tree, and to listen to Adonai's voice, even as he ofttimes listened to the winds, to the sheep, to the echoing thunders. Why could he not see and hear Adonai, even touch his hand and press his worshipful lips upon it? He wished Adonai for his friend.

The boy, as often was his use, did talk to himself for a certain while, and after a little counting of his sheep, he went, as in a dream indeed, and lifted up a massive stone that was very much larger than himself, and placed it on the summit of a high hill. Then he took leaves and tinder, and placed them on the stone, and, next, with steel and flint, struck fire. The tinder and the leaves caught, and the boy fell prostrate, crying: "O Lord God, that art above and apart from these!" And all that arose in his heart will no other man know.

After a time he got to his knees, and, lifting his hands to heaven, cried: "Adonai, I have made an altar to thee. I do adore and worship thee, and also I do love thee; but if it shall be as a thing that delighteth thy heart, then suffer thou me to look upon thee with mine eyes. Permit me to behold thy countenance, and hear thy voice. I would be as thy friend, O Adonai El-Shaddai."

Came upon him as it were a master in the shape of a wish to cry unto the stone itself which formed the altar: "Thou art Adonai. I will love thee, ever obey thee." But he held himself in crook, as his self were a sheep, until, with a great uprising of the soul, he saw in a nearby tree, a hideous hawk. Out loud: "Thou, O Excellent One, art Adonai!" He fell down flat on his face, and worshipped the hawk.

Then rose quickly, and fled from the spot, and went and got his sheep and goats together (which had widely strayed) and led them off to other pastures. For he said in his soul, "Idolatry. So also I did whenas I was captive to the King in the South. Child as I was, thou didst seduce me, Temunah, priestess of all wrong. Thy influence still I feel."

He brought the bleating flocks to a pasture overlooking the road which ran from the city of Cyrene out into the desert. And behold a caravan of men on horses' was coming from the desert, and he watched the caravan until it wound well up among the tombs which lined the way on the right hand and again on the left, just ere the way did enter into the marble terraces which made the city of Cyrene.

And there came into the boy's mind a sermon which once he had heard in the little synagogue, wherein the snowy-headed preacher had said unto the congregation (making allegories) that the life of a man resembles the coming of a caravan from the desert, forasmuch as it doth emerge from mystery, is seen for but a very little while, then doth disappear among the tombs-these signifying death. Yet later, he had said that the caravans might find a goodly city of the living— a goodly city and a beautiful-beyond the regions of the dead.

And Samson-Solomon stood up, and gazed out into the desert. Said he, "Yea, all is mystery. The tombs and the city themselves are mystery."

He looked in all the other ways, and at length up into the sky. "In every way in which I look there is mystery. Yea, every way I look. Man himself is mystery. The sheep and the goats, they also are nothing but mystery, even they. Who, then, shall explain Adonai?"

He yearned pitifully toward the sheep and the goats, for that these creatures were a portion of the great mystery of which he was himself a part, even the Lord also. He thought, "Mayhap I am meant to be a preacher." Then he remembered his late idolatries. "No, no. I am much too vile a wretch that ever I should become a koheleth. I shall be only shepherd. That liketh me best in any case. Or else I shall be a merchant like the one ruling the caravan that just now went by."

And there stirred within him something, he knew not what.

He counted his sheep and his goats, went on again unto yet higher ground, where he knew he might observe the city of Cyrene more

1 On the very late introduction of camels into Cyrenaica, see Lefébure, “Le Chameau en Egypte," in "Actes du XIV Congrés International des Orientalistes, Alger, 1905," Deuxiême Partie, pp. 50-55.

plainly. And behold! there was coming from the gate of the city a roaring multitude, and one who bore a cross. The cross was laid down. When it was raised, there was one (as he could barely see) fixed upon it. And he knew that that man must be some malefactor. He turned away his head, looking past the city, past its sea-port Apollonia-a long white streak running beside the blue ocean.

He thought of the commerce which he took to that port, to be laden upon ships. stirred.

knew that the caravans Something in him again

But when he had glanced once more at the cross, and the thing he knew to be a man upon it, said he: "No, no. I will only be a shepherd. Not for Augustus Cæsar himself, ruler of the whole world Here is quietness and peace. I shall never be aught but a shepherd."

He lay down and slept.

And behold, in his dreams, it seemed that an excellent voice, but sad beyond the sadness of all the world, came unto him, saying: "Samson! Solomon! I have many great things for thee to do."

He opened his eyes, and there, betwixt him and the city, rapidly running down the steep hillside, was the beautiful maiden which dwelt in the synagogue with the old Chazzan, Betah, she that was all obedience, righteousness, purity and love.

And he perceived that the maiden was calling unto him, but, as yet, he could not quite make out her voice. Perhaps because of the sweetly solemn dream that still lingered in him, he felt, as he watched her bright and beautiful coming, a premonition as of things beyond the realm of time, things which could never be altered by the will of any man, howsoever skilful and howsoever enduring.

By this the young girl had come anigh unto him. He called to her, being eager in the matter: "The Lord be praised for thee, O Amahnah. Hast thou some heavy message for me?"

She lifted her face, and answered and said unto him: "The Lord be gracious to thee. I come from the Chazzan. I have tidings and a command. Thy father-both Shem ben-Adam and also the man thy father doth name the Mongrel, or Trivialis, he that is made of many nations and is thy father's steward-they two are sorely beset by idolaters. Haste therefore, unto them, and get them out of harm."

But Samson answered, "The sheep!"

Said Amahnah, "Talkest thou of sheep, when the beni-Adam, the children of men, are in danger? Go to the city, taking thy sling and thy strong staff, and I will press on farther into the fields, till I