THE WILDERNESS

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Adjua travels across the Arabian desert. His destination is the Sinai Mountains, where he will meet his ultimate trial. He has escaped his friends, whose intent was to return him to Egyptland.

The story picks up here:

A fortnight since his escape from well-meaning Banga and Inaani, Adjua journeyed through the Arabian wilderness to reach Mount Sinai. Adjua set off on the quest because an angel had promised him the second baptism, but he would only receive the second baptism if he could endure a rigorous trial in the Sinai mountains that bordered the wilderness.

The Arabian wilderness—a land of copper-colored men with sun-beaten faces, deadly scorpions, venomous snakes, merciless days of heat, and freezing nights—spread to a crescent horizon. Just as it had done since God created the earth, the sun blazed unbridled fury from the heavens.

In the northern part of the desert, a black-feathered bird flew into a sand twister that spiraled upward at least twenty feet into the sky.

Why did the bird fly into that sand twister? Could it be an omen? No, the Father in Heaven would speak and move me through Spirit. I would not have to guess at omens.

Adjua’s brow knotted.

Some days later, he passed several hills.

Unexpectedly, he came upon human footprints in the ground, which were quickly being covered by wind-blown sand. The tracks went in every direction. They marked the first sign of men he had seen since leaving Banga and Inaani at the sea twenty-two days ago. By the rate that the winds blew the sands across the desert, he knew the tracks must be recent. Sitting straight up on the back of his dromedary, he looked around nervously.

Without warning, sand-covered mats flew up around him. To his further surprise, several semi-barbaric men emerged from artificial holes the mats had covered. The semi-barbaric men—half-naked and grotesquely thin—were covered with dust. The strange men’s bulging eyes had the sort of stares one might expect to see in wild beasts. They stood with crouched postures and wielded sharpened branches obviously meant to be spears.

From a nearby hill, more semi-barbaric men, women, and children made a beeline for Adjua. The bizarre desert dwellers obviously wanted food because the nearest ones jabbered in a strange language while pointing at their mouths. Adjua took unleavened bread from a pouch. After he tossed the bread on the ground, the nearest desert men began to fight for the meager portions. The other unkempt men moved forward and grasped the dromedary, still pointing at their mouths. The less aggressive women and children, surely hungry as well, remained just outside the starve-crazed men who were elbowing one another.

Adjua had no more food to spare and only wanted to be left alone, so he kicked at the nearest half-crazed, nearly toothless faces. When the nearby desert men backed away, he vigorously urged the dromedary forward. Angered that someone with food, no matter how small the amount, was about to escape their grasps, several of the desert men tried to stab the dromedary with their crooked spears. In the rushing moments, two desert men succeeded in injuring the neck and flank of Aswala. Although badly wounded, Aswala raced on into empty wilderness.

A good distance from the savages, the animal halted its fevered dash. Aswala wobbled a moment and then dropped heavily to the ground. Loyally, Adjua tried to nurse the dromedary, but the wounds were too deep and the bleeding had been accelerated by the rush to escape the desert people. For several hours, he fought off sneak attacks from the desert dwellers as Death’s shadow slowly slithered across Aswala.

Though he was considerably sad at the death of his dromedary, Adjua jammed his hand down its throat to make it regurgitate the water in its stomach. He would need it in the days ahead. He collected the regurgitated water in a pouch and buried Aswala as best as he could. He remained with the buried dromedary for a few days to keep wild beasts and the half-primitive barbarians from its remains.

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