The Brook Kerith: A Syrian story

by George Moore

In two hours he was near the cultivated lands of Cæsarea, and it seemed to him that his best chance of getting news of a ram would be to turn westward, and finding bed and board in every village, he travelled far and wide in search of the fine rams that he had once caught sight of in those parts. But the rams of yore seemed to have disappeared altogether from the country: thou mayest journey to Cæsarea and back again, but thou'lt not find anything better than that I offer thee one man said to Jesus, whereupon Jesus turned his back upon Cæsarea and began the return journey sad and humble, but with hope still a-flutter in his heart, for he continued to inquire after rams all the way till he came one bright morning to the village in which lived the owner of the great breed of sheep that he coveted, honourably coveted, he muttered to himself, but coveted heartily.

The sun was well up at the time, and Jesus had come by the road leading up from the coast. He had passed over the first ridge, and had begun to think that he must be near the village in which the man lived who owned the great breed of sheep when his thoughts were interrupted by a lamb bleating piteously, and, looking round, he saw one running hither and thither, seeking his dam. Now the lamb seeming to him a fine one, he was moved to turn back to the village to tell the man he had lodged with that a lamb of his breed had lost the ewe. Thou sayest well, the man answered, and that lamb will seek vainly, for the ewe hurt her hoof, and we kept her in the house so that she might be safer than with my shepherd out on the hills, and the luck we have had is that a panther broke into our garden last night. We thought he had killed the lamb as well, but he only took the ewe, and the lamb thou bringest me tidings of will be dead before evening. My thanks to thee, shepherd, for thy pains. But, said Jesus, thou'lt sell me the lamb that runs bleating after ewe, on the chance that I shall rear him? Whereat the villager smiled and said: it seems hard to take thy money for naught, for thou hast a pleasant face; but who knows what luck may be with thee. For a shekel thou shalt have the lamb. Jesus paid the shekel, and his eyes falling upon a bush in whose stems he knew he should find plenty of sap, he cut some six or seven inches off, and, having forced out the sap, showed it to the villager, and asked him for a rag to tie round the end of it. I hardly know yet what purpose thou'lt put this stem to, the shepherd said, but he gave Jesus the rag he asked for, and Jesus answered: I've a good supply of ewe's milk drawn from the udder scarce an hour ago. Thou hast ewe's milk in thy bottle! the villager said. Then it may be I shall lose my breed through thoughtlessness. And it was with a grave face that he watched Jesus tie a rag around the hollow stem.

He put the stem into the lamb's jaws and poured milk down it, feeding the lamb as well as the ewe could have done. It may be I shall get him home alive, Jesus muttered to himself. Thou'lt do it, if luck be with thee, and if thou canst rear him my breed has passed from me. Thou'lt be rewarded for taking my shekel, Jesus answered. A fine lamb for a month, the villager remarked. One that will soon begin to weigh heavy in my bosom, Jesus answered; a true prophecy, for after a few miles Jesus was glad to let him run by his side; and knowing now no other mother but Jesus, he trotted after him as he might after the ewe: divining perhaps, Jesus said to himself, the leathern bottle at my girdle.

But very soon Jesus had to carry him again, and, despite his weight, they were at noon by the well at the end of the oak wood. Lamb, we'll sleep awhile together in a pleasant hollow at the edge of the wood. Lay thyself down and doze. The lamb was obedient, but before long he awoke Jesus with his bleating. He wants some milk, he said, and undid the leather girdle and placed the feeding-pipe into the lamb's mouth. But before giving him milk he was moved to taste it: for if the milk be sour—— The milk has soured, he said, and the poor bleating thing will die in the wood, his bleatings growing fainter and fainter. He'll look into my face, wondering why I do not give him the bottle from which he took such a good feed only a few hours ago; and while Jesus was thinking these things the lamb began to bleat for his milk, and as Jesus did not give it to him he began to run round in search of the ewe, and Jesus let him run, hoping that a wild beast would seize and carry him away and with his fangs end the lamb's sufferings quicker than hunger could.

But no wolf or panther was in the thicket, and the lamb returned to him: brought back, he said, by a memory of the bottle. But, my poor wee lamb, there is no sweet milk in my bottle, only sour, which would pain thee. Think no more of life, but lie down and die: we shall all do the same some day.... Thy life has been shorter than mine, and perhaps better for that. No, I've no milk for thee and cannot bear to look in thy face: run away again in search of the ewe and find instead the panther that took her. Poor little lamb, dying for milk in this wild place. So thou hast returned to me, having found neither ewe nor panther. Go, and seek a wolf, he will be a better friend to thee than I.

He had seen many lambs die and did not understand why he should feel more pain at this lamb's death than another's. But it was so; and now all his hopes and fears centred in this one thing that Fate had confided to his bosom. A little milk would save it, but he had no milk. He might pick him up and run, calling to the shepherds, but none would hear. I cannot listen to his bleating any longer, he said, and tried to escape from the lamb, but he was followed round the trees, and just as he was about to climb into one out of the lamb's sight his nostrils caught the scent of fleeces coming up the hillside. A shepherd is leading his flock to the well-head, he said, so, wee lamb, thou wilt not die to-day, and, addressing himself to the shepherd, he said: I've got a lamb of the right breed, but have no milk to give him. Canst thou pay for it? the shepherd asked; and Jesus said, I can, and the shepherd called a ewe and the lamb was fed.

Well, luck is in thy way, the shepherd said, for I was on my way to another well, and cannot tell what came into my mind and turned me from it and brought me up here. Every life, Jesus said, is in the hands of God, and it was not his will to let this lamb die. Dost believe, the shepherd answered, that all is ordered so? And Jesus answered him: thou'lt fill my bottle with milk? The shepherd said: I will; but thou hast still a long way before the lamb can be fed again. Hide thy bottle under a cool stone in yon forest and in the evening the milk will still be sweet and thou canst feed thy lamb again and continue thy journey by starlight. But these hills are not my hills; mine are yonder, Jesus said, and at night all shapes are different. No matter, the way is simple from this well, the shepherd answered, and he gave Jesus such directions as he could follow during the night. Now mind thee, he continued, look round for a shepherd at daybreak. He'll give thee fresh milk for thy lamb and by to-morrow evening thou'lt be by the Brook Kerith. And this advice appearing good to Jesus, he turned into the shade of the trees with his lamb, and both slept together side by side till the moon showed like a ghost in the branches of the trees.

It was time then to feed the lamb, and the milk being sweet in the bottle, the lamb drank it greedily; and when he had drunk enough Jesus was tempted to drink what the lamb could not drink, for he was thirsty after eating his bread, but he went to the well and took a little water instead, and lay down, telling the lamb that he might sleep but a little while, for they must be ready at midnight to travel again. If we meet a shepherd thou livest, if he fail us thou diest. Jesus said, and seeing a shepherd leaving a cavern at dawn with his flock, Jesus called to him and bought milk from him and once more the twain continued their journey, the lamb becoming so dependent on the shepherd that Jesus took pleasure sometimes in hiding himself behind a rock, and as soon as the lamb missed him he would run to and fro bleating in great alarm till he found Jesus; and when he came upon him he thrust his nozzle into Jesus' hand.

It was then more than at any time he delighted in being carried. No, my good lamb, I've carried thee far and now can barely carry myself to the bridge; and the lamb had to follow to the bridge, and they began to ascend the terraces together, but the steep ascents very soon began to tire him, and the lamb lay down and bleated for Jesus to take him up in his arms, which he did, but, overcome with the weariness of a long journey, he had to lay him down after a few paces. Yet he would not surrender the lamb to the brethren who came and offered to carry him, saying: I have carried him so far and will carry him to the end, but ye must let me rest on your arms. Meanwhile, fetch me a little milk, for the lamb has had all that I could buy from the shepherds on the hills, and do not ask how I became possessed of this lamb, for I am too tired to tell the story. So did he speak, holding the lamb to his bosom; and leaning on the arm of one of the brethren while another pushed from behind, and in this exhausted state he reached the cenoby.

Now I must feed my lamb; go to Brother Amos and ask him to bring some ewe's milk at once. But the brethren were loath to go, saying: Brother Amos is feeding his sheep far from here, but will return in the evening. But the lamb must be fed every three or four hours, Jesus answered, and do ye go at once to Amos and tell him to bring the milk at once. He must not be kept waiting for his milk. Now look at him and say if any of ye have seen a finer lamb. I can speak no more, but will sleep a little as soon as I have placed him in a basket. But wake me up as soon the milk comes, for I will trust none to feed him but myself, and he dropped off to sleep almost on these words.