For the Temple: A Tale of the Fall of Jerusalem

by G. A. Henty

The star seemed, to John, as if it hung on its course; so long was it in sinking to the horizon. But at last it sank; and John, crawling noiselessly forward, made his way into the Roman camp. It was arranged with wide and regular streets, laid out with mechanical accuracy. Here and there, in front of a tent of a commanding officer, sentries paced to and fro; the sound of their footsteps and the clash of their arms, each time they turned, giving warning of their positions. In the center of the streets the fires--round which the soldiers had, shortly before, been gathered--still glowed and flickered for, although the days were hot, the cold at night rendered fires desirable; and there was an abundance of fuel to be obtained, from the hills.

John crawled along with the greatest care. He had no fear of being seen, but had he come roughly against a tent-rope he might have brought out some wakeful occupant of the tent to see who was moving.

He continued his course until he found himself opposite a fire, in which some of the brands were burning brightly; while there was no sentry on guard, within a distance of fifty yards. So far, everything had gone well; neither in passing through the lines of the sentries, nor in making their way into the camp, had any of the band been observed. It was certain now that some, at least, would succeed in setting fire to the tents, before they were discovered; and the wind, which was blowing briskly from the mountains, would speedily spread the flames; and a heavy blow would be inflicted upon the enemy.

[Chapter 9]: The Storming Of Gamala.

At last, John made sure that all his followers must have taken up a favorable position. Rising to his feet he sounded a short note on his horn; then sprang forward and seized one of the blazing brands, and applied it to a tent. The canvas, dried by the scorching sun, lit in an instant and, as the flame leaped up, John ran further among the tents, lighted another and, leaving the brand there, sprang twenty yards away and then threw himself down.

By this time, although not twenty seconds had elapsed since he had given the signal, a sudden uproar had succeeded the stillness which had reigned in the camp. The sentries had started on their posts, as they heard the note of the horn; but had stood a moment, irresolute, not knowing what it meant. Then, as the first flash of flame shot up, a simultaneous shout had arisen from every man on guard; rising louder and louder as the first flame was followed, almost instantly, by a score of others in different parts of the camp.

It was but a few seconds later that the first trumpeter who rushed from his tent blew the alarm. Before its notes ceased, it was answered all over the camp and, with a start, the sleeping soldiers sprang up, caught up their arms, and rushed out of their tents. Startled, as they were, with the suddenness of the awaking, and the sight of the blazing tents, there was none of that confusion that would have occurred among troops less inured to warfare. Each man did his duty and--buckling on their arms as best they might, stumbling over the tent ropes in the darkness, amazed by the sound of the fall of tents, here and there, expecting every moment to be attacked by their unseen foe--the troops made their way speedily to the wide streets, and there fell in together, in military array, and waited for orders.

These were not long in coming. As soon as the generals reached the spot, they told off a number of men to endeavor to extinguish the flames; sent other parties to scour the camp, and search for the enemy; while the rest, in solid order, awaited any attack that might be made upon them.

But, short as was the time that had elapsed since the first alarm, it had sufficed to give the flames such hold and power that they were beyond control. With extraordinary rapidity the fire had leaped from tent to tent, and threatened to overwhelm the whole camp. The soldiers tried, in vain, to arrest the progress of the flames; rushing among the blazing tents, cutting the ropes to bring them to the ground, and trying to beat out the masses of fire as they fell. Many were terribly burnt, in their endeavors, but in vain; and the officers soon called them off, and set them to work pulling down the tents which the fire had not yet reached. But even this was useless: the flakes of fire, driven before the wind, fell on the heaps of dried canvas; and the flames spread almost as rapidly as they had done when the tents were standing.

Nor were the parties in search of the incendiaries more successful. John had lain quiet, where he threw himself down, for a minute or two; by which time the tents had emptied of their occupants. Then, pausing only occasionally to circle a tent and cut away its ropes, he made his way to the edge of the camp. By this time the sheet of flame had extended well-nigh across the camp; extending high above it, and lighting it almost as if by day. But between him and the fire lay, still, a dark mass of tents; for the wind was blowing in the opposite direction and, light as it was elsewhere, in the black shadow of the tents it was still dark in the extreme.