The Brook Kerith: A Syrian story

by George Moore

At that moment their eyes went together to the tally on the wall, and pointing to it Joseph said it bore witness to the earnestness with which he had pursued his studies for the last six months, and Azariah was forced to admit there was little to complain of in the past, but he had noticed that once a boy came late for his lessons his truancy became common. Moreover, Sir, my time is of importance, Azariah declared, his hairy nostrils swelling at the thought of the half hour he had been kept waiting. But may we finish Menander's comedy? Joseph asked, for he was curious to learn if Moschion succeeded in obtaining his father's leave to marry the girl he had put in the family way. The lovers' plan was to ingratiate themselves with the father's concubine and to persuade her to get permission to rear and adopt the child. Yes, Joseph, the father relents. But it would please me, Sir, to learn why he relents. And Joseph promised that he would be for a whole year in advance of his time rather than behind it. He did not doubt that he would be able to keep his promise, for he had found a new way to Tiberias; a deserted way it seemed to be at first, and most propitious, without the temptations of ball-players, but as the season advanced the lane became infested by showmen on their way to Tiberias: mummers, acrobats, jugglers, fortune-tellers, star-mongers, dealers in charms and amulets, and Joseph was tempted more than once to stop and speak with these random folk, but the promise he had given Azariah was sufficiently powerful to inspire a dread and a dislike of these, and to avoid them he sought for a third way to Tiberias and found one: a path through an orchard belonging to a neighbour who was glad to give him permission to pass through it every morning, which he did, thereby making progress in his studies till one day, by the stile over which his custom was to vault into the quiet lane, he came suddenly upon what seemed to him like a small encampment: wayfarers of some sort he judged them to be, but of what sort he could not tell at first, there being some distance and the branches of an apple-tree between him and them.

But as he came through the trees, he decided in his mind that they were the servitude of some great man: varlets, hirelings or slaves. But his eyes fell on their baskets and—deceived by the number and size of these—the thought crossed his mind that they might be poulterers on their way to Tiberias. But whatever their trade they had no right to encamp in the orchard, and he informed them politely that the orchard belonged to friends of his, and that large and fierce dogs were loose about the place. For his warning they thanked him, saying they'd make off at once; remarking as they made their preparations for going that they did not think they were doing any harm by coming into the orchard, having only crossed the stile to rest themselves.

Going with poultry to Tiberias? Joseph said. Not with poultry, Sir, the varlets answered. We are not poulterers, but cockers. Cockers! Joseph repeated, and on reading the blank look in his face they told him they were the servants of a great Roman who had sent them in search of fighting cocks; for a great main was going to be fought that day in Tiberias. We are his cockers, a man said (he spoke with some slight authority, the others seemed to be in his charge), and have been far in search of these birds. He pointed to the baskets and asked Joseph if he would care to see the cocks, and as if to awaken Joseph's curiosity he began to tell their pedigrees. That one, he said, is a Cilician and of a breed that has won thousands of shekels, and a bird in the basket next him is a Bythinian brown-red, the victor in many a main, and the birds in the next three baskets are Cappadocian Duns, all of celebrated ancestry, for our master will have none but the finest birds; and if you happen to know of any good birds, price will not stand in the way of our purchasing them. Joseph answered that he had not heard of any, but if he should—You'll not forget us, said a small meagre woman with black shining eyes in a colourless face, drab as the long desert road she had come by. Joseph promised; and then a short thick-set man with matted hair, and sore eyes that were always fixed on the ground, opened one of the baskets and took out a long lean bird, which he held in shining fingers for Joseph's admiration. Listen to him, cried the woman in a high thin voice. Listen to him, for no one can set a cock a-sparring like him. The servants consulted among themselves in a language Joseph did not understand, and then, as if they had come to an agreement among themselves, the foreman said, approaching Joseph and cringing a little before him, that if the little master could assure them they would not be disturbed by dogs, they would like to show him the cocks. A little exercise, the man said, would be of advantage to the birds—to those that were not fighting that morning—he added, and the man whom the woman nicknamed The Heeler, a nickname acquired from the dexterity with which he fitted the cock's heels with soft leather pads, said: you see, master, they may fight and buffet one another for a space without injury.

Joseph watched the birds advance and retire and pursue each other, and after this exhibition they were put back into their baskets and covered with hay. So you are the Heeler? Joseph asked. The man grinned vacantly, and the woman answered for him. There is none like him in this country for fixing a pair of spurs, for cutting the tail and wings and shortening the hackle and the rump feathers. You see, young Master, the comb is cut close so that there shall be no mark for t'other bird's bill. And who knows but you'd like to see the spurs, Master. And she showed him spurs of two kinds, for there are cocks that fight better with long spurs and cocks that fight better with short. And how many days does it take to train a cock? Joseph asked, and they began to tell him that a fighting cock must be fed with bread and spring water, and have his exercise—running and sparring—every day. It was the woman that kept Joseph in chat, for the men were busy carrying the baskets over the stile and placing them in mule cars that were waiting in the lane. But, young Master, she said, if you've never seen a cock-fight come with us, for a better one you'll never live to see. The best birds in Western Asia will be in Tiberias to-day. Joseph did not answer this invitation at once, for he did not altogether like this woman nor her manner of standing near to him, her black shining eyes fixed upon him. But he was like one infected, and could not escape from his desire to see a cock-fight. He knew that Azariah would never forgive him for keeping him waiting ... waiting for how long? he asked himself. Till he cares to wait no longer, his conscience answered him. He was going to get into great trouble, but he could not say no to the cockers, and he followed them, asking himself when he should escape from the evil spirit which—at their instigation, perhaps—had taken possession of him. A moment after he was assuring himself that the folk he had fallen in with were ignorant of everything but cockering, without knowledge of witchcraft, star-mongering or sortilege—the servants of some great Roman, without doubt, which was sufficient assurance that though they might be cock stealers on occasion they were not kidnappers. Besides, in frequented lanes and in Tiberias the stealing of a boy was out of the question, and after seeing one or two cocks killed he could return home, for he need not wait till the end. He could not help himself, he must see the great red and yellow bird strike his spur through the head of his adversary, as the Heeler told him he had never failed to do in many combats. And he would not fail now, though he was two years old, which is old for a fighting cock. You see, little Master, the woman said, they be not as quick on their legs as they get older, nor are they as eager to fight. To-day's battle will be his last—win or lose—and if he conies out alive at the end he'll go to the hens, which will be more frolicsome than having spurs driven into his neck as happened three months gone by, but it didn't check his spirit, she continued, he killed his bird and let off one great crowing before he toppled over: we thought he was gone, but I sucked his wound, bathed it with salt and water, and you see he's none the worse to-day.

At every turning of the lane the demon seemed to propel Joseph more violently, till at last he put Azariah out of his head and began to ask himself if he would be guilty of any great sin in going to see the cock-fight? Of any sin greater than that of following the custom of the heathen? His father might be angry, but there'd be no particular atonement: a fast day, or some study of the law, no more, for he'd be careful not to raise his eyes to the gods and goddesses that beset the streets and public places in Tiberias. And on this resolve he followed the cockers into the city. He was glad to see that many statues stood on the roofs of the buildings and so far away that no faces or limbs were visible; but the statues in the streets were difficult to avoid seeing. Worst of all, the cock-fight that he thought would be fought in the open air had been arranged to happen in a great building—a theatre or circus—he did not know which. Joseph had never seen so great a crowd before, and the servants he had come with pointed out to him their master among a group of Romans. The Jews from Alexandria, he was told, came to these games, and this caused his conscience to quicken, for he had heard his father speak of the Alexandrian Jews as heretics. Azariah did not hold such orthodox views, but what his tutor's views were about cock-fighting Joseph did not know; and when he asked if he might approach the ring he was told that the circle about the ring was for the Romans and those whom they might invite, but he'd be able to see very well from where he was.

The Romans seemed to him an arrogant and proud people; and, conscious of an innate hostility, he watched them as they leaned over the railing that enclosed the fighting ring, talking among themselves, sometimes, however, deigning to call a Jew to join them. The Jews came to them obsequiously, hoping that the honour bestowed upon them did not escape notice; and Joseph's ear caught servile phrases: young Sir, it is reported you've a bird that will smite down all comers, and, Sir, we can offer you but a poor show of birds. Those at Rome——

A sudden silence fell, which was broken by the falling of dice, and Joseph was told that the throw would decide which seven birds were to begin.... We have won the throw, was whispered in his ear. We've the advantage. But why it was an advantage to fight from the right rather than from the left Joseph was too excited to inquire, for the cocks had just been put into the ring or pit, and Joseph recognised the tall lank bird that the Heeler had taken out of his basket in the orchard. He's fighting to-day with long spurs, he was told. But why does he fight the other bird—a yearling? he heard the woman ask; and he saw a black cock crouch to meet the red in deadly fight. Must one die? he asked, but the cockers were too intent on the battle to answer his question. The birds re-sparred and leaped aside, avoiding each other's rushes, and before long it became clear even to Joseph that their bird, though stronger than the younger bird, did not spring as high or as easily. A good bird, he heard the servants say: there'll be a battle for it, my word, there will, and our bird will win if the young one doesn't get his stroke in quickly; an old bird will tire out a young bird.... As these words were spoken, the black cock dashed in, and with a quick stroke sent his spur through the red bird's head. He's gone this time beyond thy care! And tears came into Lydia's eyes. I'm sorry, I'd have liked to have seen him end his days happily among the hens, a-treading of them. Joseph felt he had not rightly understood her, and when he inquired out her meaning from her, she told it with so repulsive a leer that he could not conquer a sudden dislike. He moved away from her immediately and asked her no more questions.

More cocks were set to fight, and they fought to the death always: only once did a cock turn tail and refuse to continue the combat. To persuade him to be brave, the slave in charge placed him breast to breast with his adversary, but despite all encouragement he turned tail and hid himself in the netting. Now what will happen to him? Joseph asked. First he'll be cut and then fattened for the spit or the gridiron, the Heeler answered. Look, young Master, and turning his eyes whither the Heeler's finger pointed, Joseph saw the bird's owner sign to the slave that he was to twist the bird's neck; which was done, and the poltroon went into a basket by himself—he did not deserve to be with those that had been slain in combat.

The ring was now covered with blood and feathers, and two slaves came with buckets of water and brushes to clean it, and while this office was being performed many fell to drinking from flasks which their slaves handed to them. The man who had told his slave to wring his cock's neck regretted that he had done so. The merited punishment would have been to hand the bird over to a large ape, that would have plucked the bird feather by feather, examining each feather curiously before selecting the next one; and he swore a great oath by Jupiter and then, as if to annoy the Jews, by Jehovah, that the next of his birds that refused combat should be served this way. Our master will not put us on the cross for so misjudging a bird's courage, Joseph heard the Heeler say; and Lydia sidled up against Joseph, and it was her thigh as much as the memory of the oaths he had heard uttered and that were being uttered and that would be uttered again as soon as the fighting commenced that set him thinking of Azariah scanning the tally on the wall—vowing that he would teach him no more; but the tally, which Joseph knew well, showed that he had not missed an hour for many months. But a whole day's absence was something more than any truancy he had ever indulged in before, and the only reason he could give for it would be the inacceptable one that the cockers had bidden a demon take possession of him.

Another pair of cocks was already in the ring: two young birds trained to the finest distinction, and they sparred so lustily that even the experts could not predict the victor. But there was no heart in Joseph for more cock-fighting, and he viewed with disgust the mean vile faces that leered at him while he thanked them for the occasion which he owed them of overlooking so much fine sport. But they were a scurvy lot, viler than he had supposed, though he had suspected from the first that they were nurturing some trick against him. And he searched himself, for he would willingly give them money to be rid of them. But how much will they accept? he asked himself, as he searched his pockets ... his money was gone! Stolen, no doubt, but by whom? By the cockers standing around him, quarrelling and railing at each other, levelling accusations right and left—the Heeler wrangling with Lydia, saying it was she that had asked the young penniless to come with them. A mercy it was that he didn't call me a ragamuffin, Joseph said to himself. He was not without some apprehension that they might detain him till a ransom was paid, and right glad to perceive himself free to go: having gotten his money they wished to be rid of him quietly; and he too, wishing to avoid attracting attention, slunk out of Tiberias without laying complaint before the magistrate.