The Warrior: Caleb Read Online Free PDF

were as thirsty as everyone else. His relatives gave him no rest.
    “It was your idea to follow this God. . . .”
    “Where’s the better life you promised?”
    “I’m thirsty, Abba.”
    “How long before we get there?”
    “Ask your abba where there is.”
    Caleb left them and sat among the rocks at the base of the high mountain. If he was going to die, he wanted to do it in peace and not surrounded by grumbling Israelites or relatives blaming him for every discomfort. Still, he heard the multitude crying out in the distance. Pressing his hands over his ears, he tried to shut out the angry shouting. His own wrath mounted, his heart pounding fast, his blood rushing hot and heavy.
    How soon they all forget what You can do! You made the Nile run with blood. You brought forth plagues; You killed Egypt’s livestock with pestilence. You covered the people with boils, destroyed the land with hail and fire, and killed the firstborn from Pharaoh on down, all the while sparing the animals and lives of those who belong to You. And still that madman Pharaoh changed his mind and came after us!
    But You opened the sea, made a dry pathway across, then closed it again over Pharaoh’s army, washing them away like dust before a windstorm. The sea. The Nile. The river of life . . . no. No! Who but a fool would long for that place of slavery and death?
    Water, Lord. Please. Water is a small thing, but we will die without it. Oh, hear us, God who commands the heavens and the earth. Help us!
    Tongue parched, throat closing, his skin so dry he felt his body shrinking, he closed his eyes. If not for the cloud overhead, Caleb knew he would have perished already, baked in the heat, dried out like a Nile fish on a rack.
    Why am I still alive? What is the purpose in all this suffering? I don’t understand You. Did You set us free only to allow us to die of thirst? It makes no sense. Water, Lord. Oh, God of might and mercy, please, give us water. I don’t believe You brought us out here to die. I don’t believe it. I won’t believe it!
    The cries of the mob suddenly changed to screams of excitement and exultation. Trembling from weakness, Caleb stood and took a few steps so he could see what was happening. Water gushed from a rock in the side of the mountain, forming a stream that raced down and pooled. Thousands sank to their knees and fell forward onto their hands to thrust their faces into the water and drink like animals. Another miracle! Another, just when they needed it most.
    Stumbling, Caleb made his way down the rocky slope. Pressing his way through the celebrants, his gaze never leaving the rock that flowed water, he squatted, cupped his hands, and drank. The Rock itself was the well of life-giving water. The stream flowed straight from the stone, fresh and clear and cool. As Caleb drank deeply, he felt his body renewed, strengthened, revitalized. Closing his eyes, he held the precious water and washed his face, longing to immerse himself in it.
    As the people were quenching their thirst, Caleb heard shouting.
    “The Amalekites are attacking! They are killing the stragglers!”
    Moses called for Joshua. People cried out again, frightened this time.
    “They’ll soon be upon us!”
    “We have no army to fight against the Amalekites!”
    Caleb rose, dripping, and ran to his camp. He rummaged through the possessions he had brought from Egypt until he found his scythe. “Come on.” He raised his farm implement and called to his brothers. “Fight for our brothers!”
    “We’re not soldiers.” Jerahmeel stood back. “We’re farmers.”
    Caleb faced him, angry. “Should not a farmer fight for his neighbors?”
    “Who is my neighbor?”
    There was no time to stand and argue. People were dying! Turning his back on his father and brothers, Caleb ran after Joshua. Others had gathered with Moses’ young servant. Moses had already given instructions and now climbed the mountain, his brother, Aaron, on one side and his friend