By Way of the Wilderness (16 page)

When the night of liberation came, everyone knew they would be leaving Egypt, and they loaded their bundles on donkeys and on their backs. On the fourteenth day of the month, the people rushed around to get ready while the Egyptians watched in fear and in awe from a distance.

During that day every family killed its sheep and, with a bundle of hyssop, sprinkled the blood over the entrance of their dwelling. They roasted the sheep whole and ate it hastily. They kneaded flour with water and packed it in linen cloths and then stood ready—gathered inside their homes as Moses had commanded them, watching to see what the God of Abraham would do next.

In the midst of these preparations, Caleb suddenly realized that Bezalel was still at Jafari's home. He hurried there to bring him back, and he found Bezalel working as if nothing were going on.

“You foolish boy,” he said. “Come with me!”

“What is it, Caleb?”

“Don't ask questions. Just come.”

“But my things—!”

“Leave your things!” He dragged Bezalel out, explaining what was very shortly going to happen. The two rushed through the city and to the slave camp, getting to Caleb's home just as darkness was beginning to fall. Caleb shoved Bezalel inside, stepped in himself, and closed the door. He saw his family's faces filled with fear as they were illuminated by the candle. “Now,” Caleb said with a grim smile, “we will see what the God of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob will do to the Egyptians.”

They sat quietly, everyone afraid to speak. Outside they heard the croaking of frogs and the humming of insects and palm trees swaying against the house in the breeze.

Then came a complete silence. It was as if everything outside of the room had died. Caleb's wife came to him, and he put his arm around her and murmured, “Do not be afraid. It is our God who has come.”

Bezalel sat hunched up with his back against a wall and whispered, “I hear something.” No one in the small room could tell what it was. Perhaps it sounded like the rushing of waves against the shores of the Great Sea, or of huge flocks of birds passing overhead, or the rumble of distant thunder. To Bezalel it sounded like deep and tragic music, such as he had only imagined.

On and on the sound went, and Bezalel, along with the family of Caleb, sat like statues. Finally Bezalel, whose ears were sharper than most, whispered, “What is that?”

“I hear nothing,” Caleb said.

But the sound grew stronger, and Caleb's wife said, “It is the sound of women's voices crying with grief.” She started for the door, but Caleb grabbed her back. “No! Stay inside,” he ordered.

That was the longest night Bezalel had ever endured! The distant screams grew more frantic, and everyone tried to ignore what they meant. Bezalel was not a young man given to fear, but he knew that what was happening had to be God's doing.

When daylight began seeping in under and around the door, Caleb went to it and cracked it open. He heard a powerful voice crying out, “Come out, O children of Abraham, children of the Most High God! It is the day of liberation!”

“It's Moses!” Caleb cried, his eyes flashing. “Come on.”

Bezalel hurried outside with the others, and then he saw many Egyptians in the Hebrew slave camp, their faces swollen with weeping. Even one of the Egyptian workers in Jafari's household was there, his clothes torn and his face ashen.

“What has happened?” Bezalel asked him, and the man wailed, “Your God has killed us! Leave our place! There is not a house in Egypt where the oldest child has not been taken.”

Another cried out, “The pharaoh's own son was found dead in his bed!”

A great clamor arose from the Egyptians. “Leave us before all of Egypt is dead!”

Then Moses appeared, seeming to tower above the people around him. His eyes flashed, and his voice rolled like thunder. “Come. It is the day of Redemption. Come, O people of God.”

And then the procession began. Men, women, and children poured out of their small homes. They loaded their burdens on the backs of donkeys and on their own backs. The rising sun struck the golden and silver plates and bowls and gifts they had borrowed from the Egyptians as the whole city of slaves began moving forward, raising great clouds of dust.

Bezalel took the huge bundle that Caleb had handed him and joined the crowd. He noticed as the Hebrews left that they were being joined by slaves who were not Hebrews, who were anxious to flee Egypt too. Bezalel had no idea where he was going, but when he saw Moses, the giant of God leading the way, he knew he could not stay in Egypt.

“Will all be well, Master Caleb?”

Caleb laughed. “Redemption is what we have, and that is always well. Come, Bezalel, the new life awaits us. We are no longer slaves but free men!”

Moses was moving forward when he felt a touch. He turned quickly and found Miriam and Aaron behind him. “It's the Redemption!” Miriam cried.

Moses lifted his hands toward heaven. “Yes,” he said, his voice trembling, “the God of Abraham has delivered His people.”

The disorganized mob that flowed out of Goshen seemed to be nothing but a mass of confusion. It slowly moved forward amidst the bleating of sheep, the lowing of oxen, and the babble of hundreds of thousands of voices.

The number seemed to grow larger as they left, for the Hebrews themselves were joined by many slaves captured from other nations who had heard what the God of the Hebrews was doing and were determined to be a part of it. Along with the Hebrews were Ethiopians, Canaanites, and many Asiatic people. Many of them were dark skinned, and there was much murmuring among the Hebrews over this.

“Moses, look at them!” Aaron protested. “They're not of our people. Tell them to return to Egypt.”

But Moses shook his head, for he had already been instructed by the Lord God. There was no doubt in his mind about the purpose for the Exodus. He was not merely taking the people out for a three-day festival in the wilderness, but was leading them toward a land that would be theirs—a land where the Hebrews would not be slaves but would be a holy people separated unto the Lord. He said briefly, “No, Aaron, those that go with us are of us. The Lord has told me there will be only one law for our people and one law for any strangers who join our people.” Aaron could not protest God's word, so he remained silent.

During the journey out of Goshen, until they reached the edge of the wilderness, Moses went over and over the task that lay before him. He alone of all the multitude was aware of the tremendous thing God was doing. He was calling to himself a people that would be His own. They would be different from all other people, but while Moses exalted in this, he also understood that to bring a people from bondage to freedom would mean a new spirit would have to be in them. They would have to be introduced to the laws of God and taught how to handle their new freedom.

For this reason God directed Moses not to follow the shortest route to the Land of Promise, for this way went through the land of the Philistines. The Hebrews, who had barely tasted freedom, still thought like slaves, and when faced with the warlike Philistines, they would turn tail and flee back to their bondage in Egypt.

Without saying a word to Aaron or anyone else, Moses led the people toward the great Red Sea. He knew how dangerous this would be, but there was no other way.

During this trek into the wilderness, the people acted as if they were celebrating a holiday. They were singing and shouting, and there was plenty to eat. They had brought large supplies of vegetables, honey, and other provisions with them. The mass of travelers raised immense clouds of dust, hiding much of the procession from view. During the day a pillar of dust and smoke swirling together arose to go before them, and at night the dust cloud turned red with an inner fire, burning throughout the dark night to lead them on their journey.

Although their destination was clear in the mind of Moses, it was not so clear to the elders of Israel. They began muttering to themselves about where they were going, and soon Korah called the elders together for a conference. Korah was no doubt the most influential man among the Hebrew people, and when he spoke, the elders listened respectfully.

“It is time,” Korah announced solemnly, his small eyes gleaming craftily, “that we demand from Moses how he intends to lead us to this land he speaks of.”

Dathan nodded at once. “You are right, Korah. We are wandering in a place that is fraught with danger, and who knows what lies ahead of us?”

Abiram, who, along with Dathan, had been one of the taskmasters set over the Hebrew slaves by the Egyptians, was quick to join in. He twisted his short, muscular body and a customary shifty look touched his eyes. “Right,” he said. “Very true. Very true indeed! We must call this man to account.”

A murmur went around, and soon all of the elders were swayed. Korah nodded with satisfaction. “How does he intend to take this multitude across the Sea of Reeds? Why, it would take hundreds of ships for such a feat!”

“Yes. Very true,” Jacob said. He was one of the followers of Korah, and he was always anxious to show his loyalty. “Pharaoh agreed to let us go for a three-day festival, but he must know by now that Moses has no intention of bringing the people back.”

“He knows,” Korah said, “that Moses has from the beginning planned to form a nation, and that he would make himself the king of the Hebrew people. Pharaoh cannot be treated like this. He will follow us and kill us all.”

Fear fell upon the elders and it soon spread to the people. “The pharaoh will bring his army,” the whisper began. “We will all be slaughtered. This Moses has led us to our deaths!”

****

Although Pharaoh had not heard the murmuring and complaints of Korah and his followers, he was indeed angry and determined that he would have his revenge upon Moses. The Exodus had struck at the very heart of his claim to be a god. He, the great pharaoh of Egypt, had been defeated by a mere shepherd! It must not be!

Added to Pharaoh's disgrace and humiliation was his grief over the death of his beloved son. It had been settled in his mind that his son would sit upon the throne of Egypt, and now, even while the funeral preparations were being made, an intense fury was burning within Pharaoh. He had sent out spies at once to follow the slaves, and from all reports it was clear that they had no intention of coming back to Egypt.

“Where is he taking them?” Pharaoh wondered aloud as he paced back and forth. “My spies tell me he is about to reach the Red Sea. Why has he led them to a dead end? His God may be powerful, but He is not powerful enough to pick up thousands of slaves and carry them across the water on wings.”

The high priest of Ammon-ra, Jafari, had suffered a loss of prestige too. He was a shrewd, crafty man and well understood that the people had carefully watched the duel between the God of the Hebrews, and Ammon-ra, the chief god of Egypt. Now Jafari clearly understood that something must be done to regain his lost reputation.

He decided to plead with the pharaoh. “O Mighty Pharaoh,” he said, “this Moses is a mere man. We cannot allow him to make a mockery of you and your divinity. We must send the army and bring the slaves back again.”

Pharaoh stared at Jafari, then asked, “But what about the plagues? Will their God not start again to reek his vengeance on Egypt?”

“It will not be so, Pharaoh. The plagues were nothing but natural phenomena. When the fish in the river died, it was natural there should be more flies and frogs. It is not the work of a god at all.”

Pharaoh listened intently as Jafari urged him, saying, “The gods of Egypt are not dead. You must act at once. You are, after all, the son of Ammon-ra. Send for them. You will find them helpless—backed up against the Red Sea—and you can bring them back.”

Pharaoh was persuaded by his high priest and decided on his course of action. “Call the army together. Assemble the chariots. We will run these ragtag followers of Moses and his God down!”

“Good. They will be gathered there close to the sea. They cannot flee any farther. We have them trapped!” Jafari exclaimed. This victory over your enemies will prove to all of your people that you are indeed a god!”

“See to it!” Pharaoh cried, and as soon as Jafari left, he also left the palace and went to the quarters of Princess Kali. During his reign, he had come to trust this daughter of his predecessor. She was only a woman and yet he knew she had more intelligence than most men—certainly more than his advisors.

When he entered her apartment, he saw that she was lying on a couch, her face pale and lined. His heart smote him when he realized she was not far from death. He softened his voice as he approached and said, “How is it with you, Princess Kali?”

“It is well with me, sire.”

“You do not look at all as if you are recovering.”

“I am going to be with God.”

The simple declaration from the woman struck a chill in the pharaoh. “God?” he said. “Which god? Ammon-ra?”