Ten Boys from History Part 6

And Jonathan's lad gathered up the arrows and brought them to his master, and he knew nothing about the meaning of that which he had done. Only Jonathan and David knew that, and then because he was eager to be alone with David, Jonathan gave the lad his bow and arrows and bade him take them to the city.

As soon as the lad was out of sight and hearing, David who had heard all that had pa.s.sed between Jonathan and the boy, came from his hiding-place, and as there was no one to see or hear them, those lads of Israel in that far off land, sat together and talked as lads of to-day might talk, while the sun was sinking low in the west, although by doing so, they took a very great risk should they be found together.

But both of them were forgetful of all but the joy of being together.

Then with slow step and arm linked in arm, they walked together to the spot where David had been in hiding, and with a quick realisation of the danger ever shadowing David's life, both boys were overcome by the depth of their affection for each other, and by the fear that something was going to part them, and in the custom of the Orient at that time, they clasped hands and made a solemn covenant, or vow, of eternal friends.h.i.+p and mutual help, to extend after the death of either to their descendants.

It was indeed a solemn moment, and the deepest feeling in the boyish hearts was stirred when they made their vow under the wide blue sky, and looked long and sadly into each other's eyes. Then Jonathan said to David:

"Go in peace because we have sworn, both of us, in the name of the Lord, saying, 'The Lord be between me and thee, and between my seed and thy seed for ever;' and then, with a lingering good-bye, Jonathan went back to his home, with a heart aching, not only with loneliness for David, but full of fear of what he would have to suffer and bear in the coming days, and of regret for that weakness of character which he knew his father had allowed to go beyond his own control. And David went to n.o.b, a city north of Jerusalem, where there was at that time the chief place of wors.h.i.+p of the Israelites, and where David naturally turned his steps for instructions and also for food. The story of his flight had not reached the little town among the hills, and he was received with the honour due to the King's son-in-law, although Ahimeleck, the chief priest, was astonished that he came without an armour-bearer or a retinue of attendants. Seeing his surprise, David pretended to have come on urgent, secret business for Saul, and begged for food. The priest, believing this, felt that he must treat him with all possible honour, and as there was no other food ready, gave him the bread which was for use on the altar. Meanwhile, David's quick eye had caught a glimpse of a face staring at him through the cracks in the simple forest building. It was Doeg, the Edomite, Saul's savage herdsman, who David felt sure had recognised him. A chill of foreboding crept over David and made him at once demand arms from the peaceful priest. There were none to give except Goliath's sword, which David had taken from the giant when he killed him, and which had been there at n.o.b, wrapped in a cloth, ever since. With eager joy, David exclaimed:

"There is none like _that_, give it to me!" and seizing the matchless weapon, he fled with it, knowing that Doeg was even then hastening to Saul with news of his whereabouts, and that soon Saul's messengers would be in hot pursuit of him. His next move was a bold one. Leaving n.o.b, he and his few followers struck across the country in a southwesterly direction, keeping well within the dense forests, until they looked down on the city of Gath. David's condition was desperate now and he resorted to desperate measures. The nearest Philistine city was Gath; the glen where he had killed the giant was close beside him. It was a dangerous thing to trust himself in Gath with Goliath's sword dangling in his belt but David was nothing if not courageous. Danger in some form he must face, the Israelites were behind, the Philistines before him, and he made the plunge and took refuge in Gath. But the move was a fatal one, his ident.i.ty was at once discovered, to have his life he resorted to the least heroic trick of his whole life. Pretending to be a madman, he raved and stormed and twisted about with horrible contortions, pounded upon the gates of the city, let the spittle run down on his beard, and acted his insane part so perfectly that he completely deceived the King, who laughed at the report that this was David, the Israelite, and ordered him sent from the city, saying that there were enough madmen in it for all practical uses.

David's hasty flight ends this episode and we can fancy his sigh of relief when he had once again escaped so narrowly from danger.

Once more a fugitive, and a real outlaw now, he took refuge in the cave of Adullam, where as soon as it became known that he had taken up an outlaw's life, he was at once joined by a number of men who for some reason were either discontented with their position at court, or fugitives from justice, and had trust in David's ability to achieve victories over enemies and circ.u.mstances. Even his own brothers, who had hated and envied him in his earlier days, and his parents, who were now old and feeble, came to join his band of followers, and soon he was the chief of a band numbering about four hundred outlaws, among them some famous warriors who later became noted captains in his army, after he became King of Israel.

Although the wild, free life of the forest was what exactly suited David's own youth and vigour, he felt that his parents were too infirm to bear it, and with characteristic thoughtfulness, he went at once to the King of Moab and begged him to give a home to the old people until he should have a safer place of shelter for them. David's grand-mother was Ruth the Moabitess, which according to the rule of Eastern hospitality, ent.i.tled all her relations to whatever aid they needed from any of the tribe of Moab, and so the King of Moab cordially a.s.sented to David's request, and received Jesse and his wife as inmates of his home.

Among David's first followers were some clever warriors of the tribe of Gad, men fierce in war, and strong and swift of foot. With him also was the prophet Gad himself, and there were even some men from the tribe of Benjamin, the tribe to which King Saul belonged, who joined David's company. It seems to have been a peculiarity of the Benjamites that they could use either hand with equal skill, and those who joined David were armed with bows, and were very valuable allies because they could use both the right hand and the left at once in hurling stones, and shooting arrows, and never miss their aim. At first David feared treachery from these Benjamites, but when he asked them frankly what their intentions were, they said:

"We are thine, David, peace be unto thee and thy helpers, for thy G.o.d helpeth thee." Then David received them, and made them captains of his army, and they became enthusiastic admirers of their young leader, as were all David's band.

One incident shows what pa.s.sionate affection his men felt for him.

Saul's army in losing David had lost the one captain who could keep the Philistines in check, and they were over-running the country in numerous bands, having their headquarters in the valley of Rephaim, near Jerusalem. One night, in a moment of fond recollection of a happier past, David cried out in an intense longing for a drink of water from the well near the gate of Bethlehem by which he had often driven his sheep in his younger days. At once, three of his men, without telling him what they were going to do, forced a pa.s.sage through the Philistine lines and brought him the water for which he longed. Touched by the act, but always modest, David refused to allow men to risk their lives simply for his gratification and poured out the water as a sacrifice to G.o.d, according to the religious ceremony of that time, for it was as good as blood, David said, and the three men who brought it to him were afterwards counted among the mightiest of his heroes.

Besides these men, all the others of his little band were devoted to him, seeing his courage and his unconditional dependence on G.o.d under all circ.u.mstances. The wild, rough life brought out all the manhood there was in his little band of outlaw warriors who were occupied mainly in guerilla warfare with marauding tribes and in eluding the pursuit of Saul, and in this way several years pa.s.sed, during which time, David's life was full of stirring events, but many a night as he wandered underneath the stars, his thoughts turned in pa.s.sionate longing to Jonathan, for whom his heart cried out--for Jonathan, whose life was as different from David's, for he had all the comforts of luxurious living, and all the elegance and pomp which were the natural surroundings of a King's son. And yet he was far from happy, for he too longed for David, and he was obliged to spend a large part of his time in watching over his father, whose weakness of character he understood perfectly, and to keep the King from dangerous acts and damaging outbursts of temper, required all of young Jonathan's tact, and most of his time and strength.

Meanwhile, the prophet Gad whose advice was supposed to be divinely inspired, told David that it was no longer safe to remain in the cave of Adullam, so the little band of outlaws left the place where they had been for so long encamped and as outlaws have always done, they took refuge in a forest, somewhere among the hills of Judah.

It was now the end of harvest time in May, and news was brought to David that the town of Keilah was being hara.s.sed by plundering bands of Philistines. As the town evidently did not belong to Judah at this time, Saul did not move a finger to protect it, although the enemy had shut up the citizens within their own walls and were robbing the loaded thres.h.i.+ng floors outside. David deliberated long and prayerfully, together with the priest Abiathar, who was one of his followers, deciding whether he might successfully attack the bands who were robbing Keilah. His men were rather fearful of the enterprise, but when Abiathar decided in favour of it, David's band at once marched over the highlands of Judah, and surprised and defeated the Philistines with great loss, and took much booty. David even established himself in the town, but when Saul discovered that fact, he called out all the forces of Israel, and prepared to besiege David, full of fiendish joy that the prey he had so long sought was in his hands at last, for the capture of four hundred men in a fortress however strong, could only be for his large army, a question of time. All this became known to David, who was warned by Abiathar that the inhabitants of Keilah would be compelled for their own safety to give him up to Saul, and his four hundred men only saved themselves by a hasty flight breaking up into detachments, and fleeing wherever they could go, while David with only a handful of his army, made his way once again into the hospitable wilderness which stretches from the hills of Judah to the sh.o.r.es of the Dead Sea, and there he hid in secret places among the crags and tangled brush, while with fiendish perseverance, Saul sought him every day. But every day G.o.d saved him from capture, yet as the days pa.s.sed he became weary and discouraged in heart. Then in a lonely hour there came a rare joy to David--Jonathan, his friend, stood beside him with outstretched hands and beaming eyes, joy expressed on every line of his sensitive, delicate face.

David has no words ready for such a joyous moment--he is no longer the brave warrior--leader of men. He throws his arms about Jonathan's neck, and tears come,--yes, tears,--and Jonathan too, is unnerved, but there is no time to lose, they may be discovered any moment and that will mean death for at least one of them. Jonathan is the first to speak, clasping David's hand closely.

"Fear not," he says in a clear, calm voice, "the hand of Saul, my father, shall not find thee, and thou shalt be King over Israel, and I shall be next unto thee, and that also my father knoweth."

So spoke Jonathan, and the words came from his heart, for knowing as he did of all the courageous acts of David, and of all the diplomacy he had used to help others as well as himself, Jonathan's heart told him that his friend was truly worthy to be King of Israel rather than he, the rightful heir to the throne, and with deepest love and admiration in his eyes and voice, and at peril of his life, should he be found with David, he told David this, and David's eyes shone with joy and pride in his friend's appreciation, and his hand-clasp grew firmer, and there was deep, intense silence while the two friends thought of past and future, and looked into each other's eyes as comrades look who trust and understand.

Then, Jonathan renewed his covenant of friends.h.i.+p for David, and of loyalty to his descendants for ever, and David began to give his answering promise, but he could not finish the words because of a great sob which burst from him. And Jonathan could say no words of comfort, for his soul was full of misery too, because he must so soon part from David. Then David who was quick to see and feel Jonathan's pain, turned away, and hastily, with a mighty effort controlled his misery, that his friend might not see sorrow on his face, and with one last look Jonathan turned and silently went from the forest, out into the larger world and back into the less free life that was his at the Court of his father. Back to his own duty which he never s.h.i.+rked, went Jonathan, and to David remained only the fulfilling of that renewed covenant of comrades.h.i.+p. And fulfil it he did.

In the following months Saul still sought daily to kill him, but daily failed to do so, and instead David had an opportunity to capture and kill Saul, when he came upon him by night sleeping, with his spear stuck in the ground at his head, and surrounded by Abner and his people who were sleeping too. Think what a temptation that was for David to resist! But even though it would have freed his life of a dangerous enemy and raised him to the throne, David would not yield to it, for he said:

"Who can stretch forth his hand against the Lord's anointed and be guiltless? The Lord shall smite him, or his day will come to die, or he will descend into the battle and perish, but G.o.d forbid that I should stretch my hand against him."

And never did he raise his hand against Saul, though still Saul pursued him with relentless hatred, but still David escaped from his hand, and he and his band of followers became daily more famous for their deeds of valour, and for the brave warfare they waged against their enemies.

War again broke out between the Israelites and the Philistines. David and his men who were not now with either army, but who had just captured the Amalekites and taken from them large booty, were rejoicing over this victory, when joy was turned to sorrow. News was brought to David that both Saul and Jonathan had fallen in battle against the Philistines at Gilboa.

Jonathan gone from him! Jonathan, his friend, gone beyond his sight for ever! David refused to believe this until he who brought the sad tidings had again and again given proof of its truth. Then David gave way to his grief, and he and all his men who sorrowed with him, wept and mourned and fasted until evening, for Saul, the king, and for Jonathan, his son, and David mourned as one who cannot be comforted.

Although David had known only too well the truth about Saul's great weakness, and had feared him as his most dangerous enemy, still to him was Saul always the King of Israel, mighty in strength of character, and in all the pomp and power of a nation's ruler; still the king of a shepherd boy's dreams and also he was the father of Jonathan, and because of David's childhood's ideal of Saul, the king, and because of his great grief for Jonathan his friend, David, who was now the King of Israel, expressed his true feelings in this wonderful poem in memory of Saul, and of Jonathan his friend:

The beauty of Israel is slain upon thy high places How are the mighty fallen!

Tell it not in Gath Publish it not in the streets of Askelon, Lest the daughters of the Philistines rejoice Lest the daughters of the uncirc.u.mcised triumph, Ye mountains of Gelboa, let there be no dew, Neither let there be rain upon you!

For there the s.h.i.+eld of the mighty was vilely cast away, The s.h.i.+eld of Saul, the anointed of the Lord.

From the blood of the slain, From the fat of the mighty, The bow of Jonathan turned not back And the sword of Saul returned not empty, Jonathan and Saul Were lovely and pleasant in their lives And in their deaths they were not divided; They were swifter than eagles, They were stronger than lions, Ye daughters of Israel, weep over Saul, Who clothed you in scarlet, with other delights, Who put on ornaments of gold on your apparel, How are the mighty fallen in the midst of the battle!

O Jonathan, thou wast slain I am distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan!

Very pleasant hast thou been unto me, Thy love to me was wonderful, Pa.s.sing the love of women, How are the mighty fallen, And the weapons of war perished!

LOUIS SEVENTEENTH:

The Boy King Who Never Reigned

It was the early morning of a bright June day, and the famous gardens surrounding the palace at Versailles were gay with bloom and heavy with scents as rare as was the morning. King Louis Sixteenth of France looked from a window out over the terraces in their vari-coloured beauty, and saw among the blossoms, a little figure busy with spade and rake, and although the King's heart was heavy with sorrow because of the death of his elder son, the Dauphin, as the eldest son of the King of France, and heir to the throne, was always called, yet he was filled too with pride as he looked out at the little Louis Charles, to whom only three short hours before had descended the t.i.tles and honours which had belonged to his brother.

The King's long and earnest glance at the little Dauphin attracted the child's attention, and dropping his tools, he waved frantically towards the window, crying out:

"Papa, see the beautiful flowers. I am pleased with myself. I shall deserve mamma's first kiss to-day, I shall have a bouquet for her dressing-table. May I come and show it to you?"

The king bowed his head in answer and smiled a sad smile as he turned to the queen, Marie Antoinette, who even then stood beside him, weeping bitterly for the other son who had gone from her for ever.

So absorbed was King Louis in his attempt to comfort her, that he forgot the new little Dauphin, until the door opened softly, and he saw the small figure standing just inside the door, holding tightly in his hand a bouquet of violets and roses. Charming in his childish grace and beauty was little Louis as he stood there, watching his father and then his mother, with grave concern at their evident sadness, and quickly he held up his flowers to his mother and said with sweet grace:

"Mamma, I have picked you some flowers from my garden."

Still Marie Antoinette could not speak, but the king caught the child up in his arms, saying:

"Marie, he too is our son. He is the Dauphin of France."

Slowly Marie Antoinette turned, clasped his bright, lovely face in her two hands, and stooping, kissed him tenderly on his forehead.

"I had forgotten," she said. "G.o.d bless and protect you, Dauphin of France. I only pray that the storm clouds which now darken our sky may be long past, when you ascend the throne of your fathers!"

Little Louis' forehead was wrinkled with perplexity.

"But, mamma," he asked timidly--"why is it you all call me Dauphin to-day, when I am just your little Louis, who is called the Duke of Normandy?"

"My son," said the King, solemnly, "each day differs from the last, and this new day has brought you a new name and a new position. Your poor dear brother has left us for ever. He has gone to G.o.d, and you are now in his place, the Dauphin of France."

"And is that why mamma is crying, and will Louis never come back?"

"No, dear, he will never come back, and so your mamma is grieving."

Quickly little Louis' arms went around her neck.

"Oh," he cried, "poor, dear mamma! I don't see how anyone can leave you, and not come back? _I_ will never leave you, never, never!"