He glanced at the sleeper as he passed and continued to the farther
side where the opposite hill sloped down into the depression. Here he
found for himself a comfortable spot and lay down, prepared to watch
all day. From time to time he looked across at the motionless figure
in the grass and commented to himself that it was a weary man who
slept so soundly, and then lost interest in the maze of dreams that
can entangle the wits of a shepherd who is a boy.
The march of the Passover pilgrims continued to Jerusalem.
In mid-afternoon there came interruption. Along the level highway came
the rapid beat of hooves and the musical jingle of harness. Every soul
within sound of that un-Jewish mode of travel turned apprehensively
and looked back. Bearing down upon them from the west came a stampede
of Roman cavalry scouting. The sunshine on their brass armor
transformed them into shapes of gold, and the recklessness of their
advance swept the pilgrims out of their path as far as could be seen.
Right and left the Jews scattered; some ran into the hills and hid
themselves; others merely stepped aside and with darkening faces
waited defiantly for the approach of the oppressor. The young shepherd
full of excitement sprang to his feet.
Neither the fleeing Jews nor the Jews that had stood their ground
attracted the attention of the approaching legionaries.
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