Hinds’ Feet on High Places. Hannah Hurnard

to let him put the thorn in her heart? It was too late now: it was there. Love was there and pain, too, and she must find the Shepherd. At last, limping and breathless, she came to the sheepfolds, still and silent in the dim starlight. One or two undershepherds were there, keeping watch over the flocks through the night, and when they heard footsteps approaching they rose up from the ground and went to meet the intruder.

      “Who are you?” they challenged her in the darkness, then stared in amazement as their lanterns flashed on the white face and frightened eyes of Much-Afraid.

      “Is the Chief Shepherd here?” she gasped as she leaned against the wall of the sheepfold, panting and trying to recover her breath.

      “No,” said the watchman, staring at her curiously. “He left the flocks in our charge this night and gave his orders. He said that he had to make a journey to the mountains, as he often does, and did not say when he would be back.”

      Much-Afraid could not speak. She moaned and pressed her hands to her heart, feeling as though it would break. What could she do now? He was gone. He had thought that she did not want to go and had not waited for her. Then, aching with despair, as she leaned tremblingly against the wall of the fold, she remembered the Shepherds face and the loving-kindness of the look with which he had invited her to accompany him to the mountains.

      It came to her mind that he who understood her so well, who knew all about her fears and had compassion on her, would not leave until he was quite sure that she really meant to refuse to go with him. She lifted her eyes, looked across the Valley toward the eastern mountains and the High Places. A faint streak of light was appearing in the east, and she knew that soon the sun would rise. Suddenly she remembered the last verse of the sad song which she had read, the last verse on the page which she had not waited to turn over. It came whispering into her mind just as a little bird began to sing in one of the bushes beside her.

      And then—in the dawn I saw him,

      He whom my heart loveth so.

      I found him, held him and told him

      I never could let him go.

      (Cant. 3:1-5)

      Much-Afraid ceased trembling and said to herself, “I will go to the trysting-place, and see if he is waiting for me there.” With scarcely a word to the watchmen she turned and hurried southward, over the field where Craven Fear had met her toward the sheep pool. Almost forgetting that she was lame, she sped toward the distant trees which fringed the pool.

      Just as the sky turned red above the mountains, the joyous, babbling sound of cascading water reached her ears, and as she hurried forward Much-Afraid suddenly found a cascade of song pouring forth from her own heart. He was there, standing by the pool, looking toward her with the light of the sunrise shining on his face. As Much-Afraid stumbled toward him, he stepped quickly to her side and she fell at his feet sobbing, “O my Lord, take me with you as you said. Don’t leave me behind.”

      “I knew you would come,” he said gently, “but Much-Afraid, why were you not at the trysting-place last evening? Did you not hear me when I passed your cottage and called? I wanted to tell you to be ready to start with me this morning at sunrise.” As he spoke the sun rose fully over the peaks of the mountains and bathed them both in a lovely golden light.

      “I am here,” said Much-Afraid, still kneeling at his feet, “and I will go with you anywhere.”

      Then the Shepherd took her by the hand and they started for the mountains.