But that displeased Saul, and in his displeasure his old malady returned. And now his insanity began to take a dangerous form. One day when his madness was upon him, and David was playing on the harp to quiet him, the king said to himself, “I will kill David!” And his spear was in his hand, and as David played he threw it at him. But he missed his aim.
Now the king had promised that whoever killed the giant should have not only a reward in gold, but the hand
of the princess. But there were two princesses, Merab and Michal. Saul had intended to give David the hand of Merab, but already Michal had given him her heart. While David was only a shepherd and a minstrel, the young princess, listening to his music, had fallen in love with him. And David, as he played, had played to her.
So the mad king made a plot. “Very well,” he said, “you shall have Michal, but first you must bring me as a dowry the heads of a hundred Philistines.” For he thought that in the battle, David would be killed. But David went out into the enemy’s country, and when he came back he brought two hundred Philistine heads. So he married the princess, amidst great rejoicing.
But hardly had the wedding guests gone home when the king made another plot. He determined to send men to seize his son-in-law and kill him. But Michal heard of it. And that night, as she looked out of her window, the princess saw in the dim light the forms of men moving about among the trees. And she said to her husband, “David, you must save your life this very night; to-morrow will be too late.” And she took a stout rope and let it down out of a back window, and when nobody was looking David climbed down and ran away.
Then Michal took a wooden image which stood in a corner of the best room and carried it to David’s bed. She laid a pillow of goat’s hair under its head, and tucked in the bedclothes about its chin, and in the dark it looked like David. Pretty soon there came a loud knocking at the street door.
“Who is there?” said Michal.
A man’s voice answered, “We are come from the king with a message for David.”
“Well,” said Michal, “you can’t see him to-night; he has gone to bed sick.”
So the men went back to Saul, and the delay was long enough to enable David to get out of the city, where the king could not find him.
Then the men returned and knocked again, louder than before.
“Who is there?” said Michal.
And a man’s voice answered, “Sick or well, we must see David.” And the man and his companions had daggers in their hands.
“Come in, then,” said Michal, “and I will take you to his room.”
And when they came into David’s room and saw David, as they supposed, lying in the bed asleep, they drew their daggers with one accord and stabbed him with all their might. And the daggers stuck in the wooden image!
Now David had another friend at court beside his wife the princess, and that was his wife’s brother, Jonathan. Jonathan loved David as his own soul. Indeed, Jonathan had given David his own royal robe, and his sword and his bow, and had said, “After my father is dead, you shall be king and not I.”
So David sent word to Jonathan, and said, “Find out how serious this is. Is it only your father’s madness getting worse, or does he really intend to take my life?”
And they made this plan. The next day there was to be a great dinner at the king’s house, and David’s place would be empty. And Saul would notice the empty place, and Jonathan would listen to hear what he would say, and would let David know.
And Jonathan said, “The day after to-morrow I will go out into the field with my bow, as if I meant to shoot at a mark. And you be hiding. I will shoot five arrows and send the boy to fetch them. If I say, ‘Here, boy, the arrows are on this side,’ then you may know that all is well. But if I say, ‘Go farther, the arrows are beyond you,’ then flee for your life. But promise me now, David, that when you come, as you surely will, to be prosperous and great, you will be good to me and to my children.” And David promised.
So at the feast, the place was empty. And Saul said, “Where is David?” and Jonathan said, “He has gone to Bethlehem.” And Saul rose up in fierce anger and took his spear and tried to kill his son.
Then the next day, Jonathan went out with his bow and shot five arrows, and as the boy went to pick them up, he called, “Go farther, the arrows are beyond you.” And David knew that there was but a step between him and death. And Jonathan sent the boy home and found David, and they both wept bitterly. Then Jonathan returned to his father’s house, and David fled as fast as he could go into the wilderness.
WHEN David fled for his life from the displeasure of King Saul, he became an outlaw, like Robin Hood.
On the way he stopped at a village called Nob, where the Ark of God was kept. And he asked the priest for bread and a sword. And the priest said, “There is no bread here except that which is on the holy table.”
And David said, “Let me have that.” So the priest gave him five loaves. And the priest said, “There is no sword here except that with which you cut off the giant’s head. It is wrapped up in a cloth.”
And David said, “I am on the king’s business, and in great haste, and I have no sword. There is none like that; give it to me.” So the priest gave him the sword. But a man named Doeg, the king’s chief herdsman, saw what was done, and told the king.
Then David went to Bethlehem to his father’s farm and told the bad news of the anger of the king. “He has threatened to kill me. Indeed, he has already tried twice to kill me, once with his own hand. You and mother must go at once to a place of safety. Come, let me take you to our cousins in Moab, the family of my great-grandmother Ruth.” So over they went, across the Jordan, and put themselves under the protection of the king of Moab.
As for David, he found a place of refuge in the Cave of Adullam. And there men gathered about him.
The first to come was Abiathar. He had been a priest at Nob, and he told David what had happened. Doeg had gone straight to Saul. “I saw the son of Jesse coming to Nob,” he said, “and the chief priest gave him bread from the holy table and the giant’s sword.” And Saul sent for the chief priest, and the priest said, “Here am I.”
And Saul frowned upon him, and said, “Why have you conspired against me with the son of Jesse, and have given him a sword to slay me?”
And the chief priest answered, “Who is so faithful among all your servants as David, your son-in-law, and honorable in your house? I knew nothing of any trouble between you and him.”
Then the king’s old madness came upon him, and he called for men to kill not only the chief priest, but all the other priests. And at first, nobody would do it. Not a man would lift his sword to strike those unarmed, innocent men. Finally, Doeg did it. He fell upon them with such fury that only one escaped. Abiathar escaped, and became one of David’s band.
And others came, till there were six hundred men. Some had chosen the outlaw life because they were in distress, some because they were in debt, some because they were discontented and were weary of peace and quiet and desirous of adventures. A wild and hardy life they had, among the hills, under the stars, fighting the Philistines, chasing the Amalekites, defending shepherds from the attacks of brigands, and making rich sheepmasters pay for their protection.
There was Abishai, David’s nephew. One day David was fighting the Philistines, and the army of the enemy lay about Bethlehem. And in the midst of the battle, in the dust and heat, David was very thirsty; and he looked across the valley over the heads of the struggling soldiers, and there in the distance were the green trees of his native village. And David said, “Oh, that one would give me drink of the waters of the well of Bethlehem, that is by the gate.” And Abishai and two others who stood by and heard these words started straight for Bethlehem. Running and hiding and fighting, they made their way through the Philistine army, and filled a cup with water and brought it back and gave it to David. And David would not drink it. He said it was too sacred to drink, gained as it was by the peril of men’s lives. He poured it solemnly upon the ground. That was Abishai’s adventure.
There was Benaiah, the son of Jehoiada. One time, he went down into a pit on a snowy day and single-handed fought a lion and killed him. Another time he was attacked by an Egyptian, eight feet high, whose spear was like a weaver’s beam. Benaiah had only a stick in his hand when the Egyptian fell upon him; but he plucked the spear out of the Egyptian’s hand, and slew him with his own spear. That is the sort of man Benaiah was.
There was Jonathan, another of David’s nephews. He had a fight with a Philistine, on each of whose hands were six fingers, and on each of his feet six toes, and the man was big in proportion. But he was not big enough to vanquish Jonathan.
There were eleven men of God, whose faces were like the faces of lions, and their feet as swift as the wild roes on the mountains. Once in the spring, when the water of the Jordan was in full flood, brimming from bank to bank, they swam across and put to flight, some east and some west, the people who lived on the other side.
David also had his share of danger. Once he ventured into a Philistine city and entered the service of the Philistine king. And the Philistines found out who he was. “This,” they said, “is the man who killed our champion the giant.” And they proposed to make an end of him. And David pretended to be crazy. He opened his mouth so that his spittle fell down upon his beard; he scrabbled on the doors of the gate; so that the king said, “See, the fellow is mad.” Thus he escaped.
In such adventures David and his men of Adullam passed their days.
THERE lived in the land of Israel, among the southern hills, a man named Nabal, with Abigail his wife. Nabal had three thousand sheep and a thousand goats, and his pastures reached farther than the eye could see; but he had a stingy and sullen temper. Abigail, however, was as generous as she was beautiful.
They were shearing sheep, one day, on Nabal’s farm, and there were good things to eat and drink, and the shepherds were all very merry, when suddenly they saw ten men coming up along the dusty road. One was Abishai, and one was Jonathan, and one was Benaiah the son of Jehoiada, and the other seven were lusty outlaws, and they came with a message from their captain, David. “Peace,” they said, “be to thee and to thy house, and unto all thy great possessions. We have protected thy shepherds in the fields, as they will tell thee. We have driven off the Amalekites who came to steal the sheep. Remember us, now, and send a gift to David the son of Jesse.”
And Nabal was very angry. “Who,” he said, “is David, and who is the son of Jesse? There be many servants nowadays that break away every man from his master. Shall I take my bread and my water, and my flesh that I have killed for my shearers, and give it unto men whom I know not whence they be?”
To this the ten men listened in grim silence, and straightway turned about and went away, and Nabal and his shepherds watched them till they were lost to sight over the top of the hill.
But one of the shepherds ran in and told Abigail. “Mistress Abigail,” he cried, “an evil thing has happened. David sent men to salute our master, and he railed on them, and sent them away empty. But, indeed, David and his band were very good to us shepherds. We were not hurt, neither missed we anything, as long as we were in the fields. They were a wall to us, both by night and by day. What shall we do? You know the might of David; he will come and destroy us all. And not one of us dares say a word to Nabal.”
Then Abigail made haste, and took two hundred loaves of bread, and two skin bottles of wine, and five sheep dressed for roasting, and five baskets of parched corn, and a hundred clusters of raisins, and two hundred cakes of figs. These she packed on the backs of asses, and said to her servants: “Go on with these before me. I will come after you.” And without a word to Nabal she hurried to meet David.
Thus they climbed the hill, the servants and the mistress, and there at the bottom was a cloud of flying dust, and under the cloud was David with his men, hastening with all speed to punish Nabal.
And when Abigail saw David she alighted and bowed down to the ground before him. “Let not my lord,” she said, “regard my husband, who is a foolish person. See, here is a present, all that you can wish. Do not shed blood without a cause. I know that the Lord will certainly make my lord victorious over all the land, because my lord fights the battles of the Lord and does no evil. And the enemies of my lord shall the Lord sling out as from the middle of a sling. And it shall come to pass, when the Lord shall have made thee ruler over Israel, thou wilt be glad to remember that thou hast shed no blood without a cause, or in revenge.”
And David said to Abigail, “Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, which sent thee this day to meet me, and blessed be thy advice, and blessed be thou, which hast kept me this day from coming to shed blood, and from avenging myself with my own hand. For in very deed, as the Lord God of Israel liveth, except thou hadst hasted and come to meet me, surely by the morning light both Nabal and all that belong to him should have perished miserably.”
Then David received her gift, and said to her, “Go up in peace to thy house. See, I have harkened to thy voice and have accepted thy person.” So Abigail turned about and went one way, and David turned about and went the other way.
Nabal’s men were eating and drinking, as Abigail came home, sitting at a feast fit for a king. Nabal was drunken, and merry with the foolish merriment of drink. So she told him nothing, either less or more, until the morning light.
Then she said, “Nabal, yesterday your life was in great danger, and I saved you. David was on his way here with four hundred men, and I met him and turned him back.”
And Nabal was so filled with terror that his heart, for the moment, ceased to beat: as if he had been walking in his sleep and had waked to find himself on the very edge of a steep cliff. And his fright and the liquor he had drunk brought on a sudden sickness. He went to bed, and never got up again: and in ten days he was dead.
Now David’s wife, the princess Michal, had been taken from him by the king and married to another man. And, anyhow, it was then the custom for men to have more wives than one. So when the tidings of the death of Nabal came to David, his heart turned toward the brave and beautiful lady who had stopped him on the road. And again a band of messengers from David approached the house which had once been Nabal’s, but this time they asked in David’s name not for bread and meat, but for the hand of Abigail. And Abigail, remembering the grace and courtesy of the bold outlaw, consented.
WHEREVER King Saul went he carried his tall spear. When he sat at the table, he had it close beside him, as his son Jonathan knew by sad experience. He even took it with him when he went to bed, leaning it against the wall beside his pillow as he slept. Of course, then, when he went to capture David he bore his spear over his shoulder. Thus he set out, and three thousand men with him.
Word had come to the king that David was hiding in a certain place. Men came one day from a place called Ziph, and said to Saul, “O king, David has hid himself in the hill of Hachilah. Come quick, and catch him.”
For the men of Ziph, like a great many other quiet people, were much afraid of David. Indeed, we may well believe that while lion-killers and giant-slayers are very pleasant persons to meet in the pages of books, a band of five or six hundred of them might be objectionable neighbors. Nabal was not the only sheepmaster who wished that they were all in Jericho, or in some other remote place on the other side of the river Jordan. So the men of Ziph did their best to get rid of them. “Now is the time,” they said, “to capture David. He and his men are hiding in the hill of Hachilah.”
So Saul set forth, with his three thousand, and to the hill of Hachilah they came. And being tired after their long march, the first thing that they did was to pitch their camp on the side of the hill. Then they laid them down and went to sleep, for it was dark. Saul had five times as many men as David, so nobody was afraid. They did not take even the common precaution of a guard to keep awake and watch. Saul slept, and his uncle Abner the captain slept, and all the soldiers slept, in the shelter of the rocks and under the thick bushes. And the moon came out and looked upon Saul’s camp, and there they lay, all the three thousand, sound asleep, while a single spark of light reflected from the sky shone on the tip of the spear which showed where the king lay beneath.
Then from behind the rocks, high up the hill of Hachilah, who should come softly creeping but David himself. He saw the sleeping camp, and in the midst of it the king’s spear stuck in the ground by the king’s pillow. And he spoke to Abishai, who was beside him. “Who,” he said, “will go down with me to Saul to the camp?”
And immediately Abishai spoke up and said, “I will go with you.”
For Abishai thought that David was the best and bravest of all men, the very pattern of heroism and chivalry.
So down they went, stealing silently along among the sleeping soldiers, like Gideon among the tents of the Midianites. And there lay Saul asleep, with a jug of water on one side of him, and his spear stuck in the ground on the other.
Then whispered Abishai to David, “God hath delivered thine enemy into thy hand this day. Now therefore let me smite him, I pray thee. See, here is his spear,—the spear with which he tried to kill thee,—let me pin him with it to the earth. One blow will be enough.”
But David answered, “Do not touch him. It is true that he tried to kill me, and is here in pursuit of me. But he is the Lord’s anointed. He is the king of Israel. I will leave him in the Lord’s hands. Let the Lord bring him in his own good time to his appointed end, by sickness or by battle. I will not hurt him. Take away his jug of water and his spear, and let us go back.”
And this they did. They took away the jug of water and the king’s spear, and departed. And no man saw it, nor knew it, neither awakened: they were all asleep.
Then David stood on the top of the hill, and called with a loud voice in the still night, “Abner!” he cried, “Ho, Abner! Answerest thou not, Abner?”
And Abner suddenly wakened at the voice of David, and sat up, and looked about him much confused, and said, “Who calls?”
And David answered from the hill in the light of the moon, “Thou art a valiant man, Abner! Thou art a mighty captain! Thou art a prudent master of the king’s body-guard! The king has been in peril of his life, while you slept. There came one even to his side to kill him, and you knew it not. Where is the king’s jug of water? Where is the king’s spear?”
And Saul awoke and recognized the voice of David. And he said, “Is this thy voice, my son David?”
And David said, “It is my voice, O king. Why dost thou pursue me? What have I done against thee? What evil is in my hand? Thou hast believed lies about me.”
Then Saul was deeply moved, and said, “I have done wrong. Return, my son David. I will do thee no more harm, because my life was precious in thy sight this day. I have played the fool and erred exceedingly.”
But David answered and said, “Behold, the king’s spear. Let one of the young men come over and fetch it. May the Lord spare me, as I have spared the Lord’s anointed.”
And Saul replied, “Blessed be thou, my son David. Thou shalt do great things and prevail.”
Thus David forbore a second time from taking his revenge upon his enemies. Then David and his six hundred went upon their way, and Saul and his three thousand went back along the road by which they came.
IN the midst of David’s troubles with the king of Israel he received a present from the king of Gath. The king of Gath gave him a town.
It happened in this way. As weeks grew into months, and David, in spite of Saul’s fair words, did not dare to trust his head within reach of Saul’s spear, he said to himself at last, “I am afraid that I shall some day perish at the hand of Saul. What shall I do? Whither shall I turn? How can I get beyond his reach? I will go over to the enemy. I will offer my sword, and the swords of my six hundred men, to the Philistines.”
And that he did. And Achish, king of Gath, to whom he went, received him. But many of the Philistines were in doubt. They feared that David’s coming was but a plot to defeat and destroy them. “Some dark night,” they said, “David will rise up and kill us.”
Then David said to Achish, “Give me, I pray thee, some small place in the country, where I may dwell.” And Achish gave him the border town of Ziklag, far from the princes of the Philistines. So all the band with their wives and children settled in Ziklag.
Having Ziklag for their headquarters, they went out on forays and fought the Amalekites. They brought away whatever they could lay their hands upon, and no Amalekites remained to tell the tale. And when they came back from these adventures, Achish would say, “Where have ye made a raid to-day?” And David would answer, “We have been in the south country, in the land of Judah.” For in those days men did not understand, as we do, how wrong it is to tell a lie. And Achish believed this false report, and said to himself, “David is making war on his own people. He will never dare to desert us now and go back to his own land.”
At last, the time came for another war between the Philistines and the Israelites. In all the towns of the Philistines men were busy shaping bows and arrows; the blacksmiths at their flaming forges were sharpening swords and spears; soldiers were drilling on every village green, captains were making plans, and the army was assembling. Achish sent for David. “Now,” he said, “we are to make a great march against your old enemy, King Saul, and we shall need your help.” That was very hard for David; but when the march began, there he was with his six hundred, bringing up the rear. What else could he do?
Fortunately for David, the Philistine leaders would not have him. “What do these Hebrews here?” they said. And Achish answered, “They are trusty men. David has been sent into exile by Saul, his master, and has come with us to fight against him.” But the princes and the captains were not satisfied. “Make this fellow return,” they said; “he will attack us from behind. He will reconcile himself to Saul by bringing him our heads.”
So Achish was obliged to dismiss David. “The princes will not have you,” he said. “Come now, to-morrow morning by the first light, rise up and get you gone.” And when the sun rose on the morrow, David and his men were on their way to Ziklag.
But when they came in sight of Ziklag, their joy was turned to lamentation; for, behold, the whole place was on fire. A cloud of black smoke covered the town, and underneath the smoke were heaps of ashes. Not a living soul remained. The Amalekites had come and destroyed the town, and had carried away the women and children into captivity.
At first, the whole six hundred sat down upon the ground and cried. Then they got up with stones in their hands, and began to mutter something about throwing them at David’s head. But Abiathar, the priest said: “The thing to do is to follow the Amalekites. Quick! let us pursue and overtake them!”
So off they started on the run, and never stopped till they came to the bank of the brook Besor. And then two hundred men lay down and declared that they could go no further. But the others pushed still forward over the brook.
By and by, in a field, they found a man who, at first sight, seemed to be dead. But they raised him up, and gave him bread and he did eat, and they made him drink water, and they gave him a piece of a cake of figs and two clusters of raisins. And when he had eaten, his spirit came to him again. For he had eaten no bread, nor drunk any water three days and three nights.
And David said, “To whom belongest thou? and whence art thou?”
And he said, “I am a young man of Egypt, servant to an Amalekite, and my master left me, because three days ago I fell sick. We had been on a raid, and had burned Ziklag.”
And David said, “Canst thou bring me down to this company?”
And after David had promised neither to kill him nor to give him up to his master, the man agreed to act as guide.
As the sun was setting, they came in sight of the Amalekites, eating and drinking and dancing like wild Indians, because of the great spoil which they had taken. And David smote them so suddenly and fiercely that they were surprised and overcome. Four hundred of them, young men on swift camels, escaped, but all the spoil remained. There was nothing lacking, neither small nor great, neither sons nor daughters: David recovered all.
But meanwhile, in the north, along the Great Plain, the army of the Philistines was marching day and night to give battle to the army of King Saul.
IN the old days, almost everybody believed in witches. Even wise men thought that there were old women who had made a bargain with the Prince of Evil: the old women had sold their souls, and in return had been given power to see into the future, to hurt their enemies without touching them, and to talk with those who had been long dead.
This strange belief, which is now held only by ignorant or superstitious persons, came from two facts.
It is a fact that the world in which we live is so full of wonders and mysteries that almost anything seems possible. It is also a fact that one of the most mysterious and wonderful things in the world is the human mind: some people, just by using their minds, can speak to others miles away,—that is called telepathy; some people, just by using their minds, can make others do what they wish them to do and see what they wish them to see,—that is called hypnotism. These powers of the mind are still beyond our understanding, but we do not believe that they have any more connection with the Prince of Evil than wireless telegraphy or the electric light. In the old days, however, men and women who had these powers were called wizards and witches, and it was thought that the best thing to do with them was to put them to death.
Now King Saul had driven the witches and the wizards out of the land. But afterwards it came to pass that he was exceedingly desirous to know what was in store for him in the near future. The Philistines were marching along the Great Plain, and Saul had mustered all his men to meet them, and there was to be a great battle; and Saul was afraid. “Oh,” he cried, troubled and perplexed, “if Samuel were here, he would tell me what to do. Oh, for a single word with Samuel!” But Samuel was dead.
At last, Saul said to his servants, “Go, seek me out a witch, that I may go to her and inquire of her.” His servants said: “The witches have been driven out, but there is still one remaining, in a hiding place, at Endor.” And Saul disguised himself, and took two men with him, and went to Endor. And they came to the witch’s house by night.
“Who is there?” said the witch.
“One in distress,” said Saul, “who wishes a moment’s speech with a departed spirit.”
And the witch said, “I cannot help you. The king has banished all the witches. If he were to find me, he would take my life.”
But Saul answered, “I am able to protect you. Only do as I ask and there shall no harm befall you.”
“Who is it,” asked the witch, “with whom you wish to speak?”
And Saul said, “Samuel.”
Then the witch began to use her mind. The first thing which her mind told her was that her visitor was no other than the king himself. And this the king confessed. “Be not afraid,” he said, “only bring Samuel to speak with me.” Then the witch’s mind told her what Samuel would say, if he were yet alive. She thought of the Philistine army and of Saul’s few soldiers. She thought of the sternness of Samuel, and how he had in his lifetime rebuked the king. It was plain that Samuel, if he could speak, would declare the sure defeat of Saul, and would say that it was a divine punishment upon him.
Now the house was as dark as the black night, except where a dim light showed the witch’s face and deepened the surrounding gloom. And suddenly the witch cried with a loud voice, and put her hands before her eyes; and Saul said, “What do you see?” And she said, “I see a god ascending out of the earth.” And Saul said, “What form is he of?” And the woman answered, “An old man cometh up, and he is covered with a mantle.”
When Saul heard that, he bowed down with his face to the ground. “What does he say?” said he.
In the darkness of the room, and in the confusion and mystery of the moment, Saul knew not whether the answering voice was that of the witch or of the prophet. But there was a Voice. And the Voice said, “Why hast thou disquieted me to bring me up?” And Saul answered, “I am sore distressed; for the Philistines make war upon me to destroy me, and God is departed from me, and answereth me no more, neither by prophets nor by dreams: therefore have I called thee, that thou mayest make known unto me what I shall do.”
And the Voice said, “Wherefore dost thou ask of me, seeing the Lord is departed from thee, and is become thine enemy? Because thou obeyedst not the voice of the Lord, therefore he hath rent the kingdom out of thine hand and given it to David. And to-morrow shalt thou and thy sons be with me.”
Then Saul fell straightway all along upon the earth, and was sore afraid because of the words of Samuel; and there was no strength in him, because he had eaten nothing all the day nor all the night. And the witch said, “Let me set a morsel of food before thee, that thou mayest have strength when thou goest on thy way.” But Saul said, “I will not eat.” At last, however, he got up from the floor and sat upon the bed, and ate, he and his two companions, and went away into the night.
And on the morrow it happened as the Voice had said. The Philistines fought and the men of Israel fled and fell down slain in Mount Gilboa. As for Saul and his sons, the archers hit them with their arrows; so they died, the king and his three sons, that same day together.