By Way of the Wilderness

by Gilbert, Morris

  Bezalel’s eyes glimmered with tears. “I am sorry, my lord Moses.”

  “It is the will of the Lord.” Moses put his hand on the young man’s shoulders. “Strong men like you will enter in. Follow the man that God raises up to take my place.”

  Bezalel made his way back to the camp, where he met Caleb and told him what had happened.

  Caleb bowed his head. “It is not what I would have done, but our ways are not God’s ways. Moses will never complain.” He turned and walked away, leaving young Bezalel looking after him, wondering what would happen in the years to come.

  Chapter 30

  Hiram tried to be as gentle as he could, but there was a stubbornness in his full lower lip as he stood before Shani. He had followed her outside the camp, where she had gone to search for herbs among the wild flowers. She knew what was on his mind, and as soon as he spoke, she saw that she was right.

  “I’ve waited for a long time, Shani, as long as I can wait. You must give me an answer.”

  “You’ve been very patient, Hiram, more patient than most men would have been.”

  “You must know how much I care for you.”

  “You’ve certainly been faithful,” Shani said, smiling. She was troubled in her mind, for she had known this was coming for some time and was prepared for it. “I think I’ve been very unfair to you.”

  “You’ve made me wait a long time.” But Hiram suddenly smiled. “But now you’re ready to marry me?”

  “No. I was unfair because I should have released you a long time ago.”

  Hiram could not believe what he was hearing. He knew well his own worth, and there were many young women who wanted his attention. Now he said incredulously, “You won’t have me, Shani?”

  “I’m not the woman who can make you happy. I’m really doing you a favor.”

  Hiram threw his hands up and cried, “Well, I don’t understand you in the least! And you’re right, you should have told me this a long time ago.”

  “I’m sorry. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  Hiram stared at her, then shook his head. “All right. That’s it, then. Do you think you’ll ever marry?”

  “Who knows about things like that, but I wish you well.”

  Shani watched him go and felt instantly released from the pressure his courtship had put on her. Now she finished filling her basket with herbs and started back toward the camp.

  She met Yona on the way, who said, “I must talk with you, Shani.”

  “This must be my day for having talks. What is it?”

  “It’s about Bezalel.”

  “What about him, Yona?”

  “I want you to let him go.” Yona’s face was flushed, and she was obviously upset.

  “Let him go? Why, I haven’t tied him down. He’s free to do as he pleases.”

  “You know that’s not true.”

  “Yona, you shouldn’t be jealous.”

  “I’m not jealous!” Yona exploded. “It’s just wrong, that’s what it is. He and I would have been married long ago if you hadn’t kept after him.”

  “I haven’t kept after him at all. He’s been very kind to me and a good friend.”

  “He can’t think of any other woman as long as you’re around. I want you to go to him and tell him that you’re not interested in him.”

  “Why don’t you tell him?” Shani said, smiling suddenly. “I think you know what to say.”

  Yona flushed. “I have told him, but he needs to hear it from you.”

  “You’re mistaken. Bezalel is more interested in his work than he is in anything else. If you want my advice, find yourself another man.”

  “So you can have him for yourself?”

  “You’re an ignorant girl, Yona,” Shani said calmly, then turned and swept her aside as she continued on her way back to camp. She heard Yona cursing after her and murmured to herself, “Bezalel, you’d be wise not to take her. If she acts like this toward me, she’ll do the same toward you.” She suddenly felt lighter and happier than she had in a long time, as if she had finally stepped out of prison. She began to sing and stopped to do a little dance on her way back to her tent.

  ****

  The fighting had begun abruptly when Arad, the Canaanite, struck out against Israel and took some of them prisoner. Moses had immediately commanded Caleb and Joshua, his two fighting generals, to strike back and recapture those taken into captivity by Arad. At the head of the army was Joshua. His black hair was streaked with gray now, but his shoulders were still broad and strong. Caleb was also gray but was as strong as any man among the Israelites. These two led the Hebrew warriors against Arad, the Canaanite, and soundly defeated him.

  Almost immediately Sihon, king of the Amorites, bluntly refused to let the Hebrews pass through his land, although Moses had offered to buy water and promised that they would harm no one.

  Once again Joshua and Caleb summoned the fighting men of Israel to battle.

  Bezalel had not fought in the first of the battles, but he now armed himself and marched alongside Caleb. They met the armies of Sihon in a fierce battle. Israel moved forward inexorably, and Bezalel fought valiantly. It was in the midst of the battle that he was overwhelmed by a giant of a man who wounded him three times in spite of all he could do. Caleb came to his rescue, cleaving the head of the enemy soldier from his body in one stroke. He knelt down beside the wounded Bezalel and cried for help. “Bind up his wounds! Carry him back to the camp!” he shouted.

  Helping hands arrived at once, and Bezalel, weak from loss of blood, knew no more.

  ****

  Time had ceased to have any meaning for Bezalel. He seemed to be trapped in a box, black and hot. He felt his body burning, then came times of soothing coolness when wet cloths were pressed against his wounds. He heard many voices, and one he came to identify with a soft touch. The voice was softer and the touch was so gentle that it was almost like a feather.

  At times he almost broke through the darkness, but then he would drop back into the blackness of the pit.

  Finally he awoke, knowing that he was lying flat on his back. He could hear the sound of a woman singing and smell the aroma of food cooking. He tried to move and cried out, for the pain was sharp and instant.

  “Bezalel!” Shani’s face appeared above him. She knelt down, stared into his face. “You’re awake!”

  “Yes. Where am I?”

  “You’re back home again. You’ve been so ill.”

  “I feel terrible!”

  “You almost died,” Shani said. “You got a fever. We had to keep you cooled down with fresh water to keep you from dying.” Her face was filled with concern, and she put her hand on his cheek. “I’m so glad you’re awake. You must eat something. You’ve lost so much weight.”

  “I could eat a little.”

  “You lie here and I’ll fix it.”

  Bezalel lay there and looked down at his body. It was as if it belonged to somebody else! “Why, I’m nothing but skin and bones!” he whispered.

  Shani was back then with a bowl. “Sit up and I’ll feed you.” She helped him sit up and then began spooning warm, sweet mush into his mouth. He suddenly realized he was ravenous, but she gave him only a little. “You can have all you want but only a little at a time.”

  Bezalel whispered because his voice was creaky with disuse. “What about the battle?”

  “Joshua and Caleb have won. The war is over. That one, anyway. Here, I must change the bandages.”

  Bezalel was shocked at the sight of his wounds.

  “I sewed you up as well as I could, but you’re going to have some bad scars.”

  Bezalel touched the huge scar across his chest. “You’re a good seamstress,” he said and managed a smile. “Thank you, Shani.”

  Shani hesitated, then brushed his hair back. “I’m going to have to cut your hair. You’re getting shaggy as a mountain goat!”

  “How long have I been here?”

  “Over two weeks.”

  “I
t’s a wonder I didn’t starve to death.”

  “I managed to get a little food and water down you, but it was a struggle.”

  “I didn’t prove to be much of a soldier.”

  “Caleb says you were.”

  “Seems all I did was get chopped up.”

  “Caleb said you fought bravely until you were wounded. You couldn’t help that.” She hesitated, then said, “Do you want me to go get Yona to visit you?”

  “Yona? Hasn’t she been here?”

  “She came once, the third day you were home.”

  “I guess that tells me something.”

  Shani caught something in his voice. “I’ll go get her if you’d like.”

  “What good would it do? If she truly loved me, she would have been here taking care of me herself. What about you and Hiram?”

  “Oh, he’s found a new love. Hannah, the daughter of Jemon. They’re going to be married right away.”

  “I’m sorry, Shani. It’s my fault for making you wait.”

  “No, it’s not.” She reached for a cup of water and held it to his lips. “You need to drink all the water you can. In a little while I’ll give you another few bites of porridge with lots of honey.”

  “Well, I think I would have died if you hadn’t taken care of me.” He reached out and caught her hand. “That means you have to take care of me for the rest of my life.”

  Shani colored. “What are you talking about?”

  “I rescued a dog once. He was old and was being attacked by some wild desert dogs. I fought them off and brought him home. He never did amount to much, but I couldn’t turn him out after I’d saved him. So”—he smiled faintly—“I guess you’ve taken me in to raise. I feel about like that old dog looked, not worth much.”

  “Don’t talk like that,” Shani said quickly. “You’re going to be fine.” She touched his cheek and smiled. “I’ll get you another bite or two of the mush.”

  “I’d like to have something solid—like some mutton.”

  Shani laughed. “No, not now. When you’re better I’ll make you some of that mutton dish you like so well.”

  ****

  Bezalel healed very slowly. He had received terrible wounds and knew that he would carry the scars for the rest of his life. Shani cared for him as if he were a child.

  After a time he was able to get up and move around and began to complain.

  “You must be getting better,” Shani smiled. “You’re well enough to mutter about your bad treatment.”

  “Oh, it’s not that, Shani. I just don’t know what’s going on.”

  “There’s a battle going on against King Balak of Moab. He has brought in a prophet called Balaam to prophesy against Israel. But from what I hear, all he does is prophesy good things of us.”

  “Tell me all about it.”

  “I don’t know much. Caleb will be coming today. He can tell you more than I can.”

  Caleb did come and filled Bezalel in about King Balak. “He got more than he bargained for,” Caleb said, laughing. “That Balaam is not much good. He specializes in curses, but the way I hear it, God told him not to say anything bad about Israel. So when he prophesied, it was always a blessing on Israel. I’ve been told Old Balak was livid.”

  Caleb seemed to be withholding something. He was sitting beside Bezalel, and finally Bezalel said, “Is something troubling you, Caleb?”

  “I have been a little troubled. Actually, not troubled so much as uncertain.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “As a matter of fact, there is.” Caleb slowly pulled his garment back from his chest and, grasping the leather thong from around his neck, pulled the medallion over his head. To Bezalel’s astonishment he leaned forward and put the leather thong over Bezalel’s head. “The Lord has told me to give you the Shiloh medallion.”

  Bezalel could not move. He stared at Caleb for a long moment, then shook his head. “Surely not me. A better man than I needs this.”

  “We never know how good a man we are until we’re put in the furnace. You know that from working with metal. It takes heat to make good, strong metal. I don’t know what God is going to do to make good, strong metal out of you, my son, but in any case you will carry the Shiloh medallion until God tells you to pass it along.”

  Bezalel’s fingers trembled as he took the medallion and ran his thumb over the image of the lion. “I wish you hadn’t given this to me.”

  “Because it means responsibility?” Caleb clamped his hands on Bezalel’s thin shoulders. “Responsibility is what makes a man. It’s hard times that make men strong, not easy times. Someday we’ll be going over to possess the land. Joshua will lead us, I feel sure. But you and I will be in his army. God will use the gift that’s in you of making things.” He looked down and said, “Somehow I feel naked without that medallion. I’ve worn it a long time.” He got up and looked down at Bezalel, who seemed stunned by the news. “Remember that Shiloh—the man who will come to redeem Israel, and some say the world—will be of our tribe. Be sure, my boy, that you marry well, because you and your wife may be in the line that will produce the coming Savior.”

  Caleb left abruptly, and Bezalel could not move. He was still sitting there when Shani came in later. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Do you feel bad?”

  “No. Look, Caleb gave me this.”

  “What an odd medallion! I never saw anything like it.”

  Bezalel explained the significance of it to her, then added, “I think he’s made a mistake. Caleb doesn’t usually make many mistakes, but this time he has.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Because I’m not worthy to be the bearer of this.”

  “Then you must make yourself worthy, Bezalel.”

  “How can I do that?”

  “Love the Lord. Obey Him. Love your fellow men. That’s all any of us can do.”

  The two sat talking for a long time, and finally Bezalel reached out and took her hands. “You’re the true one, Shani.” He kissed her hand and saw her face redden. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you, but you’re such a fine woman. There’s none finer.”

  Shani was flustered and laughed uncertainly. “If you think that’s going to get you more sweet cakes, you’re wrong.”

  She got up and left, but he called after her, “You’re the only true one, Shani!”

  ****

  Receiving the medallion from Caleb seemed to have quieted Bezalel. For several days he said little, and Shani noticed that he was often fingering the medal. She said nothing to him but simply saw to it that he had plenty to eat and that he got his rest.

  Five nights after he had received the medallion, she was surprised when he got up and said, “Come take a walk with me.”

  “All right, but just a short one. You don’t want to tire yourself.”

  The two left the tent and walked under the glittering stars. The moon was full and cast its silver beams down on the camp. Many were asleep, but there were still sounds of people stirring.

  “We’ll be going into the Promised Land someday, but it won’t be for a long time,” Bezalel said.

  “I can’t wait to see it, even though I’ll be an old woman.”

  “You’ll never be old.”

  “Don’t be foolish. All of us get old.”

  They reached the edge of the camp and stood there silently, soaking in the sounds of the night and the cool breeze that the earth gave off. The moon bathed their faces with the silver light, and she finally said, “I think it’s wonderful that Caleb has given you the medallion. You’ll be a great man in Israel.”

  “I don’t feel like I’m worth anything.”

  “You must never say that, Bezalel, never. God has given you a great gift. You have offered your life in battle, and Caleb has passed the medallion on to you.”

  Bezalel suddenly knew what he had to do. He turned to face her and took her arms. “Caleb told me something else about being the bearer of the medallion.”

  S
hani was very aware of his hands on her arms. “What did he say?”

  “He said that the bearer of the medallion had to be careful to find a good wife, because her blood may also be in the line that will produce Shiloh.”

  He pulled her forward, and she came willingly. She was smiling now, and there was a sweetness in her that hard times had not destroyed, which gave her a faint fragrance and desirability. Bezalel knew at that moment that no other woman could ever stir him as this one. She had an outward beauty and an inward grace. She was rich in a way a woman should be rich—at times in high spirits and reckless, and at times showing the mysterious glow of a softer mood. She was as beautiful to him as inspiring music or a gentle wind. She had the power to stir him deeply and fulfill his sense of longing. He kissed her and then whispered, “I want you to share your life with me.”

  “My dear, I thought you’d never ask! I’ve loved you all my life—ever since you saved me.” She held on to him and put her head on his chest.

  He smelled the fragrance of her hair, and after a time he murmured, “We will have our children in the wilderness, perhaps even grandchildren, but they will enter with us into the Land of Promise, and we’ll have each other.”

  “Yes,” she said and lifted her face, and he saw tears glistening in her beautiful eyes. “We’ll have each other.”

  Epilogue

  Bezalel looked around at those sitting down to enjoy the meal. “Six sons, three daughters, and four grandchildren,” he said aloud. “That’s not nearly enough.” He grabbed at Shani, who was passing by, and said, “I need six more sons and a passel of daughters.”

  Shani’s auburn hair had gray in it now. She smiled at him and winked at the children. “Somebody has been feeding you raw meat, old man.”

  “Old man? I’ll show you old man. You just wait until I get you alone,” Bezalel cried.

  Shani laughed, accustomed to his teasing. “Everybody eat, because big things are going to happen today.”

  Eli, their oldest son, was a taller, bigger man than his father. His eyes were dark and glistening, and his muscles were corded with strength. “It’s the day we’ve been waiting for, Father, isn’t it?”