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. It was the
close-packed, avid-feeding sheep, deep in the grass, that won their
instant and enthusiastic notice. The decurion in charge of the squad
brought up his gray horse with such suddenness that the animal's feet
slid in the gravel.
"Sheep, by the wings of Mercury!" he shouted. "Dismount, fellows!
Here's for a feast this night and an offering to Mars to-morrow!"
The ten in brazen armor threw themselves from their horses with the
enthusiasm of boys and spread a panic of whooping and of waving arms
about the startled flock. The young shepherd, too long a fugitive from
the encroachments of this same army to misunderstand the nature of the
attack, ran into the thick of the shouting Romans. His valiant dog
with exposed teeth flew straight at the nearest legionary.
"Cerberus!" the soldier howled, dodging. "Your pike, Paulus! Quick! By
Hector, it is a wolf!"
But the quickest soldier would not have been quick enough to elude the
enraged beast had not the shepherd with a spring and a warning cry
seized his dog by the ears and stopped him mid-bound.
"Down, Urge!" he cried. "Take away your men!" he shouted to the
decurion. "I can not hold him long."
"Only so long," Paulus growled, raising his pike over the snarling
dog.
"Drop it!" the decurion ordered him peremptorily. "We are ten to one
and a dog. No blood-letting this day. It is Titus' order. Boy, get you
gone; these sheep are confiscate."