"Robbers? Aunt Miriam, will there be robbers on the way to-day, think you?"
Aunt Miriam paused in her brisk stepping about the room.
"Here is a bowl of hot pottage and a warm cake for thee, Naomi. Eat all of it," she commanded. "And talk not to me of robbers. In truth, there are as many robbers in the khan at Bethlehem as upon the length of Jerusalem highway. The caravan to Egypt will pay for straw for six camels and ten mules, will they, when I myself counted no less than twenty animals in their train? Jacob, bring hither the leader of the caravan that I may talk with him. Robbers, indeed! Robbers!"
Aunt Miriam's red cheeks and flashing eyes boded ill for the leader of the caravan for Egypt.
Naomi ate her lentil pottage and munched her cake leisurely in a quiet corner, but she had long finished her meal when Aunt Miriam was at last satisfied and ready to start.
The bullock cart stood loaded with baskets piled high with great bunches of purple grapes. Over them were spread the dewy green leaves of the vine to protect the fruit from the sun and to keep it fresh and moist.
Aunt Miriam, with a sigh of relief, settled herself in place in the front of the cart. Naomi was tucked into a comfortable corner between two great brown baskets of woven rushes. Jacob, standing at the cattle's head, cracked his long whip, the animals strained forward, the cart wheels creaked and turned, and they were off for Jerusalem.