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Nazareth, to their surprise, was quiet and they climbed the winding road into the mountains without incident. “There,” said Aaron when they were past the ugly straggle of streets and churches, “what did I say? We are in luck.” On they ran and the air turned colder; the sinking sun made the mountains glow like jewels. They passed a few mule-trains on the road, piloted by Druzes, but on the whole the countryside seemed deserted.

The rumble of their engine flapped and boomed back at them through the dark ravines as they turned the last shoulder of mountain and were able to stare directly down on the valley. Here Aaron stopped the lorry and got down to sweep the ranges with his binoculars. “Nothing unusual,” he cried cheerily and proceeded with sang froid to relieve himself against a tree before rejoining the lorry. As they let in the clutch and began to roll down the hairpin bend of the mountains, Judith sat up straight and gazed at the valley herself. At last, on the shoulder of a high pass, they saw the ugly mass of a concrete fortress pricking the skyline and Aaron remarked: “There is Major Lawton’s country house.” The doctor turned to Judith and said: “The border starts along there; and just beyond is our valley, only to the right, we have to crawl down the mountain again from this point until we reach bottom again. You’ll see it all from the next pass.”

In the gathering twilight (for the sun had just sunk behind the mountains of Lebanon) they rounded a steep bluff and came upon a platoon of infantry blocking the road. “What did I say?” growled Anna, delighted as all pessimists are when one of their prophecies proves true. The lorry drew to a halt before the battle-clad figures. And now a surprising thing happened, for Aaron turned in his seat and, with the calmest air of self-possession, slipped a revolver into the throat of Judith’s dress. It settled between her breasts, the steel icy cold. Before she could open her mouth, Aaron had opened the door and stepped down into the road. “Ah, Sergeant Manning,” he said. The sergeant peered at him and grinned. “I think you know us all,” said Aaron with a confident air. “We are getting back to Ras Shamir with some stuff for the farm.”

“Well, I’ll have to search you,” said the sergeant, and a couple of privates barked. “Everyone out. Papers please.” Laboriously they climbed down into the road, Judith, confused, almost on the point of tears, feeling the weight of the pistol sagging between her breasts. While a couple of privates searched the lorry, a third examined the identity cards with a perfunctory air; it was obviously a routine gesture. Yet two of the girls trembled so much that Judith wondered how they could avoid arousing suspicion. Meanwhile, Aaron chatted to the duty sergeant in familiar fashion, amiably putting up his arms and allowing himself to be frisked.

“I shouldn’t go down to Ras Shamir tonight,” said the grizzled sergeant. “There was some shooting earlier on the hills and a patrol reported some Arab cavalry on the crest to the east.”

“We’ll risk it,” said Aaron blithely, “even though we are unarmed as you can see. It’s a question of urgency. The truck is needed tomorrow.”

“Well, it’s up to you. I’m just warning you.”

Aaron lit a cigarette as he watched the truck cleared and the girls helped back into it by a kindly private. “You can tell the Major from me,” he said, “that if the British are supposed to be responsible for this valley they are making a poor job of it. Things would be perfectly quiet if they patrolled enough and took some interest.”

The sergeant chuckled, showing yellow teeth. “The Major knows that as well as you. But they won’t give us the men. What can we do?”

“Leave it to us,” said Aaron mildly. “Instead of making our lives a misery on the kibbutz and trying to prevent us arming ourselves. You want us to be eaten by the Arabs.”

“Personally, I don’t care who eats who,” said the sergeant.

“That’s clear.”

“But I’ll tell the Major what you said.”

“Save your breath — I’ve told him myself more than once.”

The privates had cleared the lorry, and helped the occupants back into their uncomfortable seats. The sergeant sighed. “Okay,” he said, “off you go.”

And off they went, the rumble of the engine again flapping and booming at them. Without a word or a look, Aaron reached back and repossessed himself of his pistol. “Anna,” he said, “just stop at the head of the pass and let me have a look.”

The twilight was lengthening into darkness. They were shivering with cold. At the next bluff the cliffs fell away and they saw, gleaming below them, a long diamond-shaped valley which thrust its muzzle deep between two mountain ranges. Light twinkled here and there in it, made furry by the atmosphere. “Ras Shamir,” said the doctor, pointing downwards. “The mountains are the border — Syria that side, Lebanon this.” Judith gazed uncomprehendingly down across the scarps and foothills into the fading hollow which was brimming now with inky darkness. But Aaron was out on the road, already sweeping the mountain range with his glasses. Finally he seemed satisfied for he returned and said: “No. It looks normal. There are all the lights up. It’s probably a false alarm. Anyway, what the hell. Let’s get moving.” From now on it was a steeply falling gradient, and Anna let the lorry gather speed. Judith was surprised that no one showed any undue alarm, in spite of the warning and, as if the doctor had surprised her thought and read it, she heard the gentle voice say: “All in the day’s work.” Down they swept round the hairpin bends, their lights cutting a dim path for them. And now, to increase Judith’s surprise, Anna began to sing an old Hebrew song and, after the first phrase, Aaron joined in with his deep baritone. It was infectious. The doctor, too, began to hum and one of the girls in the back who knew the song suddenly lent her voice to it. On rumbled the lorry with its freight of singers, and gradually the air became warmer as they descended, until they were once more on the valley level, rumbling across dusty roads lined with tall trees. Orchards stretched away on every side, the leaves of the trees dusted pollen-yellow in the faded gleam of their headlights. Darkness had fallen fully now, dense and deeply scented by flowers. They crossed a number of small bridges and traversed long areas of meadows where the water of the carp ponds gleamed back at them with a dull metallic lustre. Finally, they appeared to have traversed the whole valley, for the mountain range began to rise once more, etched on the sky. It was in its shadow that they turned aside, stumbled and rattled over a long dirt-track and arrived at a grove of trees with a perimeter of barbed wire and a gate. There was an unarmed man on sentry duty who flashed a torch and interrogated them hoarsely. Then the gate swung wide and they drove into the deep tree-grove. And here Aaron stopped the lorry and gathered his belongings together.