The rear rushed, the forward
ranks walked, and the center caught between was jammed into a compact
mass.
Neither halt nor escape was possible. Press as the hindmost might upon
those forward, the pace was slackened, instead of quickened. The
advance grew slower as it extended back through the ranks, for each
succeeding line lost a modicum in the length of the step, till at the
rear they were pushing hard and barely moving. No wonder they sobbed,
prayed, panted, surged, swayed and pressed. How they reviled the
snail-like leaders, not knowing that the sturdy pace lagged in the body
of the multitude. So they hasted and progressed only inch by inch.
After the first moment of battle against the human sea, Kenkenes
recognized the futility of resistance and suffered himself to be borne
along. There was no turning back now, had he been so disposed. He had
left behind him his purposes, unaccomplished.
He had received no explicit promise from Moses, and if he had given ear
to the doubts of his own reason, he might have been sorely afraid, much
troubled for Egypt and all he loved therein. But he went with the
multitude passively, even contentedly; he did not speculate how his God
would fight for him; his faith was perfect.
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