The Sad Shepherd | Page 4

wall of the fold: there is good
picking there and no wind. Come you and sit with us."
So they all sat down by the fire; and the sad shepherd ate of their bread,
but sparingly, like a man to whom hunger brings a need but no joy in
the satisfying of it; and the others were silent for a proper time, out of
courtesy. Then the oldest shepherd spoke:
"My name is Zadok the son of Eliezer, of Bethlehem. I am the chief
shepherd of the flocks of the Temple, which are before you in the fold.
These are my sister's sons, Jotham, and Shama, and Nathan: their father
Elkanah is dead; and but for these I am a childless man."
"My name," replied the stranger, "is Ammiel the son of Jochanan, of
the city of Bethsaida, by the Sea of Galilee, and I am a fatherless man."
"It is better to be childless than fatherless," said Zadok, "yet it is the
will of God that children should bury their fathers. When did the
blessed Jochanan die?"
"I know not whether he be dead or alive. It is three years since I looked
upon his face or had word of him."
"You are an exile then? he has cast you off?"
"It was the other way," said Ammiel, looking on the ground.
At this the shepherd Shama, who had listened with doubt in his face,
started up in anger. "Pig of a Galilean," he cried, "despiser of parents!
breaker of the law! When I saw you coming I knew you for something
vile. Why do you darken the night for us with your presence? You have
reviled him who begot you. Away, or we stone you!"
Ammiel did not answer or move.
The twisted smile passed over his bowed face again as he waited to
know the shepherds' will with him, even as he had waited for the
robbers. But Zadok lifted his hand.
"Not so hasty, Shama-ben-Elkanah. You also break the law by judging

a man unheard. The rabbis have told us that there is a tradition of the
elders-a rule as holy as the law itself-that a man may deny his father in
a certain way without sin. It is a strange rule, and it must be very holy
or it would not be so strange. But this is the teaching of the elders: a
son may say of anything for which his father asks him-a sheep, or a
measure of corn, or a field, or a purse of silver-'it is Corban, a gift that I
have vowed unto the Lord;' and so his father shall have no more claim
upon him. Have you said 'Corban' to your father,
Ammiel-ben-Jochanan? Have you made a vow unto the Lord?"
"I have said 'Corban,'" answered Ammiel, lifting his face, still
shadowed by that strange smile, "but it was not the Lord who heard my
vow."
"Tell us what you have done," said the old man sternly, "for we will
neither judge you, nor shelter you, unless we hear your story."
"There is nothing in it," replied Ammiel indifferently. "It is an old story.
But if you are curious you shall hear it. Afterward you shall deal with
me as you will."
So the shepherds, wrapped in their warm cloaks, sat listening with
grave faces and watchful, unsearchable eyes, while Ammiel in his
tattered silk sat by the sinking fire of thorns and told his tale with a
voice that had no room for hope or fear-a cool, dead voice that spoke
only of things ended.

II.
NIGHTFIRE
"In my father's house I was the second son. My brother was honored
and trusted in all things. He was a prudent man and profitable to the
household. All that he counselled was done, all that he wished he had.
My place was a narrow one. There was neither honor nor joy in it, for it
was filled with daily tasks and rebukes. No one cared for me. My
mother sometimes wept when I was rebuked. Perhaps she was
disappointed in me. But she had no power to make things better. I felt
that I was a beast of burden, fed only in order that I might be useful;
and the dull life irked me like an ill-fitting harness. There was nothing
in it.
"I went to my father and claimed my share of the inheritance. He was
rich. He gave it to me. It did not impoverish him and it made me free. I

said to him 'Corban,' and shook the dust of Bethsaida from my feet.
"I went out to look for mirth and love and joy and all that is pleasant to
the eyes and sweet to the taste. If a god made me, thought I, he made
me to