At sunset he was again upon the way, taking the level highway of the
Wady Toomilat for a mile toward the west, and turning south, after that
distance, as the rustic had directed him.
The road was good and he ran with old-time ease. At midnight he came
upon the spot where the army had camped, but the Pharaoh had already
moved against Israel. He had left his track. The great belt of
disturbed earth wheeled to the south, and as far as Kenkenes could see
there was the same luminous veil of dust overhanging it, that he had
noted over the path of Israel.
The messenger drank deep at an irrigation canal, for he turned away
from water when he followed the army, and leaving the level,
dust-cushioned road behind, plunged into a rock-strewn, rolling land,
desolate and silent. The growing light of the moon was his only
advantage.
The region became savage, the trail of the army wound hither and
thither to avoid sudden eminences or sudden hollows. Kenkenes dogged
it faithfully, for it found the smoothest way, and, besides, the wild
beasts had been frightened from the track of a multitude.
In the early hour of the morning, Kenkenes emerged from a high-walled
valley with battlemented summits.
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