Wrath, disappointment, despair echoed in the shouts, and when her gaze sought the point whence they rose loudest, she saw the corpse of a woman borne on a piece of tent-cloth by railing bondmen and a pale, death-stricken infant held on the arm of a half naked, frantic man, its father, who shook his disengaged hand in menace toward the spot where she saw her brothers.

The next moment she beheld a grey-haired old man, bowed by heavy toil, raise his fist against Moses.  He would have struck him, had he not been dragged away by others.

She could not bear to stay longer on the roof.  Pale and panting for breath, she hurried to the camp.  Milcah followed, and wherever they encountered people who lived in Succoth, they received respectful greetings.

The new comers from Zoan,—­as the Hebrews called Tanis,—­Pha-kos, and Bubastis, whom they met on the way, did not know Miriam, yet the tall figure and stately dignity of the prophetess led them also to make way respectfully or pause to answer her questions.

The things she learned were evil and heart-rending; for joyously as the procession had marched forward on the first day, it dragged along sadly and hopelessly on the second.  The desert wind had robbed many of the strong of their power of resistance and energy; others, like the bondman’s wife and nursling, had been attacked by fever on the pilgrimage through the dust and the oppressive heat of the day, and they pointed out to her the procession which was approaching the burial-place of the Hebrews of Succoth.  Those who were being conveyed to the bourn whence there is no return were not only women and children, or those who had been brought from their homes ill, that they might not be left behind, but also men who were in robust health the day before and had broken down under burdens too heavy for their strength, or who had recklessly exposed themselves, while working, to the beams of the noon-day sun.

In one tent, where a young mother was shaking with the chill of a severe attack of fever, Miriam asked the pallid Milcah to bring her medicine chest, and the desolate wife went on her errand with joyous alacrity.  On the way she stopped many and timidly asked about her captive husband, but could obtain no news of him.  Miriam, however, heard from Nun, Hosea’s father, that Eliab, the freedman whom he had left behind, had informed him that his son would be ready to join his people.  She also learned that the wounded Ephraim had found shelter in his uncle’s tent.

Was the lad’s illness serious, or what other cause detained Hosea in Tanis?  These questions filled Miriam’s heart with fresh anxiety, yet with rare energy she nevertheless lavished help and comfort wherever she went.

Old Nun’s cordial greeting had cheered her, and a more vigorous, kind, and lovable old man could not be imagined.