hed them a short time and, after convincing himself that they
were quitting the oasis, he thoughtfully returned to the valley.

"The law!" he repeated again and again.

Ay, that was what the wandering tribes lacked. It was doubtless reserved
for its severity to transform the hordes which had escaped bondage into
a people worthy of the God who preferred them above the other nations of
the earth.

Here the chief's reflections were interrupted; for human voices, the
lowing and bleating of herds, the barking of dogs, and the heavy blows
of hammers rose to his ears from the oasis.

They were pitching the tents, a work of peace, for which no one needed
him.

Lying down in the shadow of a thick tamarisk bush, above which a tall
palm towered proudly, he stretched his limbs comfortably to rest in
the assurance that the people were now provided for, in war by his good
sword, in peace by the Law. This was much, it renewed his hopes; yet,
no, no--it was not all, could not be the final goal. The longer he
reflected, the more profoundly he felt that this was not enough to
satisfy him concerning those below, whom he cherished in his heart as if
they were brothers and sisters. His broad brow again clouded, and roused
from his repose by fresh doubts, he gently shook his head.

No, again no! The Law could not afford to those who were so dear to him
everything that he desired for them. Something else was needed to make
their future as dignified and beautiful as he had beheld it before his
mind's eye on his journey to the mines.

But what was it, what name did this other need bear?

He began to rack his brain to discover it, and while, with closed lids,
he permitted his thoughts to rove to the other nations whom he had known
in war and peace, in order to seek among them the one thing his own
people lacked, sleep overpowered him and a dream showed him Miriam and
a lovely girl, who looked like Kasana as she had so often rushed to meet
him when a sweet, innocent child, followed by the white lamb which Nun
had given to his favorite many years before.

Both figures offered him a gift and asked him to choose one or the
other. Miriam's hand held a heavy gold tablet, at whose top was
written in flaming letters: "The Law!" and which she offered with stern
severity. The child extended one of the beautifully-curved palm-leaves
which he had often waved as a messenger of peace.

The sight of the tablet filled him with pious awe, the palm-bra