32

Days later, after traveling from Shittim, Mahlah waited with her sisters a short distance from the bank of the Jordan. The leaders of Israel had given the people three days to bathe and prepare for crossing the river. She and Hoglah could have broken camp and readied their sisters in less than an hour.

Now only nine and a half tribes prepared to travel west. Mahlah shed tears when the women and children from the clan of Makir headed north and east. Her tribe of Manasseh had not separated in forty years. What would her father have thought of the warrior clan’s petition to remain in the land of the Amorites? At least the fighting men were crossing the river and going before the masses. Conflicts waited in the land of Canaan.

“I can’t see because of all the people.” Milcah tightened the lead on the camel bearing the tent. “What are the priests doing?”

Tirzah inched closer to Jonah who sat in front of her on their donkey. “We can only see moving heads.”

Mahlah doubted Jonah could see anything taking place on the bank of the river. He snatched at a fly buzzing near the mane of his and Tirzah’s mount.

Balancing on a nearby rock, Mahlah craned her neck to see over her leaders’ broad forms. Nemuel and Abishua stood on tiptoe trying to glimpse the entourage hovering near the raging water.

Few dared cross a river at flood stage. If she hadn’t heard the stories about God parting the waters of the Red Sea when her ancestors fled Egypt, she would have been hiding under a folded tent instead of gathering young girls to traipse west.

A weak breeze blew the scent of raw fish and damp wood her direction. The fronds on the palms nearest the far shore, swayed back and forth. Was a storm coming? Light gray clouds shielded the sun, but they did not threaten a downpour.

Noah strode past Hoglah and Basemath, a sling hanging from her shoulder to her hip. The muzzle of a newborn lamb chewed on the cloth covering Noah’s chest. A distressed ewe followed, bleating her displeasure at Noah’s sash.

“Jeremiah, Eli, and I have the herds calmed and ready to move.”

Mahlah came down from her stone perch and stroked the lamb’s soft fur. “Can the babe not walk?”

Noah shook her head. The mother nudged Noah’s thigh. “Its legs are weak. When we get to the other side, I will use this cloth to suspend it from a low-lying branch. His legs should strengthen in time.

A few girls jostled through the crowd. They slowed and giggled at Noah.

“Finally, a birth in the household of Zelophehad.”

Noah fluttered her hand at the naysayers. “Do not covet my newborn. I cannot help it is more beautiful than you.”

The girls scoffed and scurried away.

“Sister, I am trying to keep our name from among the gossipers,” Mahlah said.

Noah shrugged. “They brought up our name, not me.” She winked a dark-lashed eye. “I’ve already endured the flapping hands of a mute over this lamb. Who knew Jeremiah could be so loud.”

A hushing sound like an ever-growing hiss fell over the camp.

“What’s happening?” Milcah hopped on her sandals attempting to spy the commotion on the bank. The camel tasted its lead and decided to chew its cud instead of the rope.

A cool shiver bathed Mahlah’s arms. Soon her family would embark on a journey to claim their inheritance. Land fertile and plentiful awaited them across the river. Someday, her sisters would sleep surrounded by stone. No more transient ramskin dwellings to take down and raise.

She climbed back on her rock and squinted at the water. Forward leading priests supported the gold-covered acacia wood poles of the Ark of the Covenant. They dipped ankle deep into flowing water. On top of the ark, the golden images of cherubim faced each other with wings outstretched and without a care of being carried into the raging current. Why should they fear with God Himself tabernacled between their glittering feathers? “The first priests are in the river.” Her voice shrieked with excitement.

A few men shouldering through the crowds balked at her loudness.

“Our God is going before us.” Mahlah clasped her hands and rested her chin on her laced fingers.

“Won’t they drown?” Tirzah’s head whipped around and back so as not to miss a miracle.

“We are following God’s command, Little One. Why would He lead us into death?” Her soul filled with joy. “Remember, some of the land on that side of the Jordan is ours. We are going home.”

Noah raised her arms. “Praise be to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.” The newborn squirmed at her words of worship.

The sound of a rushing wind filled the camp. Nothing moved as a whooo hummed across the landscape. Her sisters covered their ears, but she scanned the river, bathing in the noise, waiting for God to go before her people.

Murmurings from the crowd, low, yet on a steady rise, masked the eerie howl.

Water flew into the sky as quick as the buck of a horse’s head. The light brown, mud-tainted waters retreated, leaving a wide path for her people to cross the river.

Mahlah gasped. Her knees almost buckled.

Noah clutched her arm to steady her from falling off the rock.

Silence fell upon the masses beholding a miracle of God.

She could barely see the harnessed waves in the distance. The Lord had blessed them with ample soil to trod.

The priests’ sandals scuffed onto dry land. The Levites traipsed across a river bed with not even a puddle to dampen the dirt. Not a single fish flapped against the solid ground.

“Our God has parted the flood waters. Praise be to our God.” Tears streaked her cheeks at the wonder of the One True God.

“I need to see.” Tirzah sat taller on the donkey. “I want to see what God is doing.”

“Oh, young ones, you will see where the Jordan ran soon enough. There is a grand passage for all our people to follow.” Mahlah bit her lip to keep from wailing with delight. A hint of citrus and bronze flavored her mouth.

Young men raced forward, tugging their ware-packed, wide-bellied donkeys.

Milcah’s camel snorted at the interruption. He pulled on his lead giving Milcah’s strength a test.

One of the young men attempted to slip through an opening in front of her sisters. A gathering of people surged forward in the young man’s wake.

“Oww, my leg” Tirzah cried as women crowded past her mount.

Were these families from the clans of Shemida or Asriel? Why didn’t her clansmen from Hepher guard their ground?

Noah pushed at a passerby. “Give our livestock room.” Her sudden movement frightened her ewe. The animal burrowed into Noah’s legs. Her sister stumbled.

A wave of warmth surged across Mahlah’s flesh. If this was how her tribesmen treated her family on this side of the Jordan, how would they regard the daughters of Zelophehad on the distant shore?

Mahlah whipped off her head covering; the embroidered mustard veil her mother cherished. She let it unfurl a few feet and whipped it round and round, over the heads of her sisters. Unsheathing her dagger, she held the blade aloft.

“Halt, you people. Halt in the name of Zelophehad.” Her chastisement boomed over the crowd. “My father was the firstborn of Hepher. Respect our place in this line and do not come any closer. Heed my warning, kinsmen of Manasseh. If I witness one more toe stomped upon, I will lash out as an orphan wronged.”

The race forward waned, becoming a shuffle of aghast travelers.

Noah swept the spooked ewe into her arm, careful not to bump the newborn. “You heard my sister. Back away.” Lunging forward, Noah allowed the distraught mother to bleat at any challengers.

At least Noah’s ewe was preferable to her whip being lashed about.

Mahlah’s veil swooped over the heads of her sisters like a sling ready to launch rocks.

“We are the clan of Hepher. Do you hear me?”

Nemuel gawked.

Over and over, Jonah chanted, “Heph-r.” Tirzah could barely contain him on the donkey.

Basemath, Hoglah, and Susanna banged on wooden bowls.

“Give us room. We are the clan of Hepher,” they yelled.

Several families to Mahlah’s left started joining in the chant.

“We are the clan of Hepher” rose to a rallying cry. The other clans held back their charge.

Her clan of Hepher plodded forward.

Nemuel and Abishua fingered their beards but kept their mouths closed.

Casting a glance at Jonah all a glee on his mount, Nemuel grinned.

“We are the clan of Hepher,” her elder shouted.

Abishua laughed and joined the commotion.

A geyser of giggles sprung from Mahlah’s lips. She sheathed her blade and leapt from her stone perch. She waved her head covering side to side and said, “Go forth with God.”

The remembrance of Moses’ instruction cinched around her chest. Oh, how he would have cherished the parting of the Jordan River. The parting of the Red Sea was forty years in the past. Perhaps Moses was watching. Perhaps not. She glimpsed the mountains in the distance and mouthed “Shalom.”

Her sisters’ heads swiveled all about as their clan trod closer to the dry river. Lush grasses the color of cucumber rind waited on the other side of the river to tickle Mahlah’s feet.

I am walking into a miracle of the One True God.

The pounding of her heart threatened to flutter her robe as boldly as she had flung her head covering. She sobered at the thought of her God’s power.

“Give the priests and the Ark of the Covenant a wide berth,” Joshua called to the people. “Do not draw close. If you touch the Ark, you will die.”

A few priests walled off the Ark. They stood guard, surrounding the sculpted gold chest—the magnificent dwelling place of their God. Several large rocks hemmed in the Levites.

Were the boulders set by God to protect His people? She would never know, but she appreciated the barrier.

Milcah tugged on the lumbering camel. Her neck craned heavenward catching the faint hint of mist drifting over the parched riverbed. “Will we ever see God dry up a river again?”

“I hope so.” Hoglah patted the camel’s nose. “And I hope everyone in that walled city is seeing the strength of our God.”

“Or hearing about it.” Mahlah surveyed the fortress of Jericho as she planted one foot in front of the other where the banished river had flowed. With the mist in the air and the sun overhead, a rainbow shrouded her view of the magnificent city. “I’m sure they have spies hidden in the hills. Truly, Joshua has sent our own spies.”

When most of the people had reached the west side of the Jordan, Joshua, son of Nun, sent messengers for all the tribes to send their appointed leader to the banks of the river.

“What are the men going to do,” Mahlah asked a messenger.

“Our Lord wants each tribe to carry a stone to our resting place this night. We are to remember God’s parting of the water.”

“We shall remember. The Lord is our strength and our song. Toda raba.”

Tirzah slid from the donkey, carefully so Jonah would not fall. “Did he say the leaders were going to collect rocks?”

Mahlah bent to catch her sister’s arm. “The rocks the men are removing from the river will be larger than any in your satchel. Our people shall build a memorial to remind us of God’s miracle.”

Tirzah puffed out her lip. “Can’t I have a small stone? I want to remember, too?”

Susanna approached the donkey. Her eyes sparkled as bright as the hues in the rainbow.

“I will watch over Jonah. Go quickly and find a few for all of us.”

Grasping Tirzah’s wrist, Mahlah scanned the procession. People still trekked across the banished Jordan, arms raised, mouths open in awe. The crowd thinned near a massive boulder. The natural barricade made backtracking safe, for a moment. Little feet could get trampled with oxen and carts on the move to cross into Canaan.

“Hurry.” Mahlah reversed her stride and sprinted toward the river. Tirzah gripped her skirt and charged like a skittish goat.

Dodging, sometimes leaping, they made their way to the river bed. The lush foliage on the bushes stood as a testimony to the goodness of this land.

Tirzah reached under the fronds of a fern trampled by frenzied feet.

“Look at this one.” She held up a tiny oval of onyx.

“Shhh. Keep your hand low and put the stone in your bag,” Mahlah said. “We can’t have thousands mulling through the dirt in search of treasures.”

“There’s a few more under here,” Tirzah whispered.

“Ask and it shall be given.” Mahlah bent over and helped her sister stand. “Did you get a fist full?”

Tirzah nodded.

Mahlah briefly blocked the procession of clans and angled Tirzah toward their family. The fortress of Jericho loomed over its outlying terraced fields. The hues of green from emerald to malachite to grape leaf contrasted with the sunbaked browns of the desert wilderness.

“Why aren’t we going toward the city?” Tirzah clutched her satchel to her breast.

“We are to follow Joshua. Only he and God know when we will attack the city.”

Tirzah’s brow furrowed. “Won’t the people believe in our God after they see this miracle?”

Would the inhabitants of Jericho worship the God of Abraham? Mahlah shifted her head covering into place. What would she have done after seeing a flooded river parted?

“What does our Shema say?”

“To love God with all our heart and soul and strength.” Tirzah’s voice rang out with no hesitation.

Mahlah’s own heart almost burst with pride to hear her sister pronounce Moses’ teaching.

“Then I believe if anyone behind those stone walls turns from their idols and believes in the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, our God will spare their life.”

Tirzah cocked her head and smiled. “I believe you, Sister.”

“Tovah. Good.” Mahlah maneuvered Tirzah around two crying toddlers. “Because wherever Joshua leads us this day, we will march.”

“More marching?” Tirzah whined.

Mahlah embraced her sister.

“Oh, little one, we will march until we get our inheritance. And now, we are one river closer.”