XLIIIBATTLE OF BETHZUR
Littlethought was given to Sirach or his story during the next few weeks. The nation was summoned to a sudden life-and-death-struggle with the Syrian Empire. Lycias, the Governor, menaced the Sacred City with sixty thousand men. Profiting by the failure of his predecessors in the three "Battles of the Passes"—the Wady on the north, the Heights of Bethhoron, and the slopes of Emmaus on the west—this cautious General passed to the south, and then swung his armies eastward to the neighborhood of Hebron. It was a masterful stroke, since from that region there were many roads which converged to a point not far from the city. Upon any one of these open ways the invaders might mass, or with their greater numbers they might advance in force by all of them. The choice of approach being with the invaders, the defender was forced to abide an attack very near the city walls, unless by strategic insight he could divine his antagonist's plan almost before he began to execute it. Judas was therefore compelled to sentinel every spot of ground from Bethshemesh on the west to Hebron on the south. His sharp-eyed peasant soldiers signalled by flying arrows in the day and fire-flashes at night the slightest change in the disposition of the Greek forces. The instant Lycias' advance turned into the open valley of Elah, and began its warymovement northward, the Jewish leader saw that the enemy would essay the narrow pass between the rocky slope of Bethzur and the cliff of Halhul, some twelve miles from the city. He therefore gathered his men secretly a little north of that gateway of the hills and waited. Judas was mindful that these slopes and wadies through which the Greek legions would have to approach were memorials of the valor of David, the shepherd king of Judah, in his wars against the Philistines. He bade his men bow for worship, and himself led the prayer:
"Blessed art Thou, O Saviour of Israel, who didst break the violence of the mighty by the hand of Thy servant David, and didst deliver up the camp of the stranger into the hands of Prince Jonathan. Shut up now this army of the invaders in the hands of this Thy people Israel, and let them be confounded in all their host."
Scarcely had the muttered "Amens" ceased when the clatter of horsemen was heard beyond the pass.
The Greeks were not aware of the presence of the Jews, since the latest of their scout reports placed the patriots in unsuspicious ease behind their city walls. They, therefore, moved incautiously into the narrow valley of Bethzur.
Judas silently watched until their masses and armaments were at the point where the hills gave them least freedom of movement, then his signal poured suddenly the entire patriot army upon the advancing foe. They struck the Greek column in front. When Lycias had succeeded in deploying to meet the attack from that direction, his agile assailants slipped to either side, and, scaling the hills, descended upon him as a flood makes every depression its channel.Everywhere the Jews had advantage of higher ground, each cubit of which was familiar to them. They knew the outlet of every pathway, as deer know their runways to water. Their captains had marked the rocks which companies of tens or threes could use as breastworks. They had gauged the distance for arrow or spear or slingstone between these natural forts and the open spaces the foe must cross, so that their aim was unerring. The Greeks, attempting to turn from the threatened impact in front, were met at disadvantage by half-concealed Maccabæans, whose deadly shots slaughtered them before they could locate the source of attack. Upon the hastily formed roofs of linked shields, the noted phalanx of the Greek, the Jews hurled great boulders, crashing through brass and bone. The air was darkened with flying missiles, which dropped like a storm of hail upon those in that open valley.
The cry "Mi-camo-ca-ba" echoed seemingly from the very sky. In their blind rage to open ways of reaching the enemy or of flight, the Greeks assailed one another, as the scorpion stings itself to death. Before nightfall the army of Lycias was shattered beneath the strokes of the Hammer of Israel.
Just previous to the battle Dion had asked permission to join in the fray. Judas replied:
"I have no orders except for my own and kindred people. The victory will be of the Lord, and that He will give only to the children of the faith." He put his hand familiarly upon Dion's arm, as he added: "Had old Gideon ben Sirach's tale ended differently, as I had hoped, I would have given you command of a thousand men."
To this Dion responded with somewhat of resentment: "Is not your faith, Maccabæan, mine? Do you distrust my word of honor, which I gave you at the gate? I beg that you let me prove my sincerity in the sight of our two nations."
"I may give you no charge," replied Judas, "but I take it that before another sunset one who would fight for Jewry will find his own opportunity. And I pledge you, Dion, not to forget your service, though I may not direct it."
"It is enough," rejoined the Captain, as he hastened toward the battle, divining at a glance where it would be thickest.
No spot in all the bloody field was more hotly contested than a little green glade about a spring. Jew and Greek fought desperately for possession of its cooling waters. The holders of the ground at one moment were slaughtered at the next by new assailants. More than a score of times the spring alternated its owners. Its veins seemed to spurt out blood, so thickened had the water become.
At this spot toward the close of the day two men glared at each other over their sword points. One was Dion; the other wore the badge of high honor among Lycias' officers. He was faint from long exertion; but even Dion, master of sword-play though he was, could not find a spot in his antagonist's body unguarded by his quick ward. It was evident, however, that Dion would soon get from his foe's exhaustion what he could not wrest by his skill.
"Yield!" he cried.
The man slightly lowered his sword.
"That voice is not a Jew's," came from the Greek helmet.
"The sword is," was Dion's reply.
"Yet played as never was a Jew's," came the response between wards and panting breaths. "If I am to fall, thank the gods it is by a Greek's hand, though he be a traitor to his blood!"
"Traitor!"
The taunt fired all the fiend in Dion's soul. With one stroke he sent his opponent's sword ringing among the stones, and his body backward to the ground, while a tremendous blow on his head completed his discomfiture.
The displaced helmet revealed white hair and beard. Dion did not strike again.
"I will not take the life of one of your years. So valiant an arm must have done better service than this in which it is now engaged. Rise! You are my prisoner."
"I will not be prisoner to a Jew," said the prostrate man. "But I swear by all the gods, that stroke was of no Jew's arm."
"Taunt me not again," shouted the victor, "or, by Jove! the sword, be it Jew or Greek, will find your heart."
"'By Jove!' Why, man, you have not been Jew long enough to learn new oaths. Now strike if you will. My life is yours, but first"—the man assumed an utter indifference of tone and manner—"first I would have a drink of the spring. It is hard to let out one's last breath through a throat so parched."
"That boon is well earned," said Dion, his rage tempered instantly by the man's grim humor.
He helped unclasp his antagonist's helmet, and gave his hand as he tottered over the dead bodieswhich lay in heaps about the spring, and through the mud made by the many feet that all day had trampled the ground soaked with water and blood.
"Faugh!" said the man. "I cannot drink this stuff. It is not wise to mix wines, and mixed bloods are worse. Cut my veins, my friend, and let me drink something at least clean and pure. A draught of life—good Greek life—to die by—ha! ha! Help me, ghost of Socrates!"
Dion cleared the surface of the fountain on the side where it came trickling up from the earth and mingled its white beads with the red foulness. Using his helmet for a vessel, he dipped a quantity.
"I have seen a fairer goblet at a feast," said he, offering it with a courtesy that was real for all its seeming mockery.
"Which again proves that you are a Greek," was the stranger's response.
"Why repeat that?" said Dion.
"Because," said the old man, "it is true. Would you know how I detected it?"
The two became interested in each other's faces.
"Go on," said Dion.
"Why, as I said, I knew you by your sword play. And not only are you a Greek, but I swear you are a Greek of Macedonia. Do I not know it? Never before was my sword tricked out of my hand either in play or fight. No man could have done that, had he the strength of Heracles, but in one way—and that way you learned in the school of Philippi."
"The Jews travel far. They learn what pleases them," said Dion, with suppressed amazement.
"But no Jew ever learned that guard and thrust in one movement." The stranger imitated the motion with his hand. "It was my own invention."
"You!" gasped Dion in amazement. "You! If you take that man's name falsely, you die like a dog! Who are you?"
The officer sprang to his feet. He put his hands upon the young man's shoulder.
"Gods! Can this be?"
A swirl in the battle-tide brought others to the spring. Dion and the stranger moved away. They were closely watched by a party of Jews, some of whom were ordered to keep them under constant surveillance.
"It is that Greek," said their officer. "See, he is in communion with the enemy. Take them alive, but if they try to escape kill them both."
The two turned from the open glade to a covert among the rocks. Scarcely had they begun to converse when they were seized by overpowering numbers, who could not have more stealthily performed the exploit if they had been leaves of the overhanging trees which turned into men as they fell. The arms of the captives were quickly pinioned behind their backs, and under guard they were marched to the city.