The Sad Shepherd | Page 8

of Israel. We are
going to Bethlehem to see this thing which is come to pass. Come you
and keep watch over our sheep while we are gone."
"Of angels I have seen and heard nothing," said Ammiel, "but I will
guard your flocks with mine, since I am in debt to you for bread and
fire."
So he brought the kid in his arms, and the weary flock straggling after
him, to the south wall of the great fold again, and sat there by the
embers at the foot of the tower, while the others were away. The moon
rested like a ball on the edge of the western hills and rolled behind
them. The stars faded in the east and the fires went out on the Mountain
of the Little Paradise. Over the hills of Moab a gray flood of dawn rose
slowly, and arrows of red shot far up before the sunrise.
The shepherds returned full of joy and told what they had seen.
"It was even as the angels said unto us," said Shama, "and it must be
true. The King of Israel has come. The faithful shall be blessed."
"Herod shall fall," cried Jotham, lifting his clenched fist toward the
dark peaked mountain. "Burn, black Idumean, in the bottomless pit,
where the fire is not quenched."
Zadok spoke more quietly. "We found the new-born child of whom the
angels told us wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger. The
ways of God are wonderful. His salvation comes out of darkness, and
we trust in the promised deliverance. But you, Ammiel-ben-Jochanan,
except you believe, you shall not see it. Yet since you have kept our
flocks faithfully, and because of the joy that has come to us, I give you
this piece of silver to help you on your way."

But Nathan came close to the sad shepherd and touched him on the
shoulder with a friendly hand, "Go you also to Bethlehem," he said in a
low voice, "for it is good to see what we have seen, and we will keep
your flock until you return."
"I will go," said Ammiel, looking into his face, "for I think you wish
me well. But whether I shall see what you have seen, or whether I shall
ever return, I know not. Farewell."

III.
DAWN
The narrow streets of Bethlehem were waking to the first stir of life as
the sad shepherd came into the town with the morning, and passed
through them like one walking in his sleep.
The court-yard of the great khan and the open rooms around it were
crowded with travelers, rousing them from their night's rest and making
ready for the day's journey. In front of the stables half hollowed in the
rock beside the inn, men were saddling their horses and their beasts of
burden, and there was much noise and confusion.
But beyond these, at the end of the line, there was a deeper grotto in the
rock, which was used only when the nearer stalls were full. At the
entrance of this an ass was tethered, and a man of middle age stood in
the doorway.
The sad shepherd saluted him and told his name.
"I am Joseph the carpenter of Nazareth," replied the man. "Have you
also seen the angels of whom your brother shepherds came to tell us?"
"I have seen no angels," answered Ammiel, "nor have I any brothers
among the shepherds. But I would fain see what they have seen."
"It is our first-born son," said Joseph, "and the Most High has sent him
to us. He is a marvellous child: great things are foretold of him. You
may go in, but quietly, for the child and his mother Mary are asleep."
So the sad shepherd went in quietly. His long shadow entered before
him, for the sunrise was flowing into the door of the grotto. It was
made clean and put in order, and a bed of straw was laid in the corner
on the ground.
The child was asleep, but the young mother was waking, for she had
taken him from the manger into her lap, where her maiden veil of white
was spread to receive him. And she was singing very softly as she bent

over him in wonder and content.
Ammiel saluted her and kneeled down to look at the child. He saw
nothing different from other young children. The mother waited for
him to speak of angels, as the other shepherds had done. The sad
shepherd did not speak, but only looked. And as he looked his face
changed.
"You have suffered pain and danger and sorrow for his sake," he said
gently.
"They are past," she answered, "and for his sake I have suffered them
gladly."
"He