"You are my protector," said Deborah, with dignified rebuke in her tones. "Let us hasten on, I beg you."
Nadan led the way. It was exceedingly rough. They soon looked down into the awful gorge of the lower Kedron, a gash hundreds of feet in depth, as if some Titanic foe had endeavored to strike the world to the heart. The eye could not detect room for the path of a goat along its precipitous sides. One might have said that an eagle would grow dizzy in flying across the mighty chasm. But Nadan led the way rapidly, followed by the sure feet of Emir. The beast, as if mindful of the need of his burden, picked his steps not only in the safest but the easiest places. Down, down they went, from ledge to ledge, through narrow crevices, now knee-deep in the sandy débris lodged in seams of rock, and now with sliding hoofs over brief declivities. At the very bottom of the chasm they crossed the fretting waters of the brook; then climbed the steep wall of rock beyond.
When they reached the top another magnificent view burst upon them. They were just above the Sea of Salt, its blue surface gleaming amid the white saline shores like a turquoise set in a circlet of silver. Down, down again they went, until, two hours later, they struck the level roadway along the very edge of this vast bituminous pool. The sun was past meridian, and soon the bold headlands of the mountains of Engedi to the west would shut out the light. On Deborah's insistence Nadan mounted behind her; and giving Emir the rein they sped rapidly southward. The glowing Sea of Death on the one hand, and the terrible cliffs on the other, would have suppressed desire of conversation even if Deborah had not been preoccupied with her own thoughts.
Dusk had already thickened the air about them, leaving only the bright glow of fading daylight to banner the mighty parapets of Moab across the sea, when there arose by their side the tall pinnacle of Masada—a single monolith penetrating the sky hundreds of cubits above them. Its base was an immense scarp ascended only by a narrow foot-path. Here Emir was tethered, and sent his whinnying salutation echoing among the rocks. Deborah needed the strong hand of Nadan as they threaded their way upward.
Near the summit the whole peak seemed cut off from access. A fringe of jagged peaks stood about the central cone, like the tents of a body-guard protecting the pavilion of a militant monarch. Within these natural towers the ground fell into a deep moat. This was crossed by a narrow neck of higher ground, an artificial viaduct admitting passage only in single file, and flanked by deep and perilous declivities.
The travellers were fairly upon this natural bridge when a score of forms rose behind them to dispute their return, and as many more challenged their advance. Ben Aaron lived in troublous times, and, as a Jew among Moabite and Arabian tribes, held his stronghold like an eagle's eyrie amid hostile beaks.
To the challenge the young Arab answered with his name. A moment later appeared a tall man, slightly bent with years. His restless gray eyes suggested one who succeeded rather by caution than by courage. He passed through the guard on the castle side of the causeway, and, making deep salaam, kissed the Arab upon both cheeks.
"The Lord be with thee, Nadan, son of Yusef! What good intent has led you to climb so high? There are no eggs in this nest for you to rob; and if Ben Aaron had a brood of his own begetting they would cackle their welcome to the boldest rider and handsomest Sheikh of the plain. That Nadan knows full well. Peace be with thee! But who have you here? Some distressed soul of my people, I see from her face. Yusef has a hard hand, but it is soft and tender betimes. That I have often proved."