A crescent moon dimly illuminated the area surrounding the spring. The pool in the clearing was distinctly visible while the area under the surrounding trees was shrouded by darkness. The still night air carried every sound as though magnified. As I learned later, Prince Shechem was settled in the limbs of a sycamore tree prepared to wait for a lion. He had optimal conditions for his task.

The royal herds had been attacked that day by a hungry lion. The shepherd had scared the animal away, but it had taken with it a lamb. Lions were uncommon in this region at this time of year. They normally ventured beyond the Zor only when the Jordan flooded, forcing the animals to temporarily abandon their dens. His presence meant one of two things. Either the drought conditions were so bad that even the Rift was too dry to support its inhabitants, or the lion had been driven out of its pride. The latter would probably be due to illness or age; a younger male had taken his place, forcing the older lion to leave the territory. In either case, his presence was cause for alarm. Neither the herds nor the young of Shechem were safe in the valley while the lion prowled.

After conferring, the Princes had decided that the best defense was to stake out the pool at night. During the day most wild animals did not approach the pool for fear of the humans who used the watering spot. At night when the human scent was less, they cautiously ventured into the open to quench their thirst. The lion would eventually be forced to come to the pool to drink. When he did, someone would be waiting to ambush him.

The princes had cast lots to determine the order in which they would stand guard. The youngest, Prince Shechem, received the dubious honor of going the first night. He had rubbed his body with dirt mixed with dung to disguise his human scent. He then took his bow and proceeded to the pool, hiding in a tree where he might possibly be safe if his aim was poor. Since the lion had been frightened by the shepherd, Shechem did not really expect him to appear at the pool that evening. Thus he was prepared to spend a boring evening with only his thoughts for company.

Soon however, his ears were accosted by sound. From the direction of the movement, he knew that it was not a lion. The noise was coming from the village side of the pool. No wild animal would approach from that direction. Leaning forward with interest, Shechem waited. Perhaps his lonely vigil would prove more rewarding than expected.

As Judith and I reached the edge of the clearing, we stopped to determine the best course of action. I instructed Judith to wait under the edge of the trees as a guard to warn me if anyone approached. I would bathe quickly and we would return to camp. Slipping off my dress and girdle, I handed them to Judith instructing her to keep them until I returned.

Clad only in my short linen tunic, I proceeded to the pool. Undoubtedly as a result of the drought, the pool was small and fairly shallow. I had to wade to the middle so the water would reach my waist. After ducking under the water so as to wet my whole body, I stood feeling my soaked tunic cling to my body. It was customary to bathe in the tunic while traveling; it usually needed cleansing as much as the body. An extra tunic was considered excess baggage. We wouldn't unpack such luxuries until we were sure we would be staying.

Blithely unaware of my audience, I floated momentarily on my back, allowing my long hair to absorb adequate water. Then I stood, my youthful body outlined in the moonlight while I scrubbed my hair and body. Finished bathing, I floated again to rinse the salt from my hair and tunic. I loved the feel of the water caressing my body, but knew I had little time left before Mama would enter the sleeping chamber. Reluctantly I stood, waded to the edge of the pool and stopped to wring the water from my tunic. When I pulled it over my head revealing my naked body, I heard Judith gasp.

"Don't be so modest, Judith," I scolded without turning. 'My tunic will never dry by the time we reach camp if I don't wring it out. That's a bit difficult when encumbered with a body, you know." Pausing for breath, I heard a rustling on the other side of the pool. Feeling my hair rise, I quickly pulled my tunic back on and whispered, "Let's get out of here. Did you hear a noise?"

Judith nodded as we hurried down the trail, then mumbled, "It was probably just an animal coming for water. The noise was on the side of the pool furthest from the village."

As we neared the encampment, I noted with relief that adult voices still came from the central clearing. We stopped and I took my dress from Judith, slipping it over my now dry tunic. "Thanks," I signed as we separated in the dark. Heading back to the tent with my girdle in hand, I imagined what Mama's reaction would be to my obviously clean hair. Perhaps with the headdress, she wouldn't even notice. I was so preoccupied that I didn't stop to check out the tent before entering the same way I had exited. Euphorically, I proceeded without caution to my sleeping mat, sat and began dreamily to comb my hair. My musing was disrupted by a harsh voice. "Just what have you been up to, young lady?"

Jumping, I dropped my comb. "You startled me, Mama," I complained. "I couldn't sleep and so decided to give my hair a much needed brushing. All of the maids have been too busy to brush it properly."

"Dinah," Mama replied, "I came to bed early because I had a headache. Your masterful disguise under the cover would have fooled me if you hadn't entered just now totally disregarding those of us trying to sleep."

Thinking quickly, I retorted, "Mother, I simply slipped outside to sit for a few minutes in the cool air. Even with the sides up, the inside of the tent is stuffy."

Reaching down to touch my still damp hair, Mama countered, "And has the dew already fallen on the back side of the tent?" Her voice taking on a warning edge, she continued, "I want the truth! If I am not satisfied, I will allow your father to interrogate you further."

In defeat I related the whole story leaving out only Judith and the momentary nakedness. If Judith hadn't been caught, I had no intention of implicating her. I knew better than to admit I had been naked. Mama was so modest; I couldn't imagine how she had ever gotten pregnant. After listening tight-lipped to my account, Mama stated in a flat voice, "Go to bed, Dinah. I will determine a suitable punishment in the morning.

To her retreating back I whispered, "I'll do anything, but please don't tell Papa."

Fortunately for me, Mama either didn't hear my last whispered plea or chose to ignore it. I understand that when she reported my misbehavior to Papa requesting permission to deny my attendance at the banquet as punishment, he was somewhat amused, "Leah," he commented, "She is really only a child despite her recent initiation into womanhood. You were young once. Don't be too hard on the girl."

"You would keep her young always. If she goes unpunished, she will only continue to indulge her every whim. What punishment would you suggest?" Mama asked wearily.

"Now that I have spoken to the leaders of Shechem, we should replenish our water supply. Make her fill the water skins in the four main tents. It will take her many trips to the well and give her time to think. She will have no part in the festive preparations," Papa responded.

"But, Jacob," Mama began.

Without allowing her to finish, Papa interjected, "I have spoken. Go now and administer the punishment."

There is no way that Papa could have known that his punishment was to me a reward. I had spent a lot of time trying to think of a way to get sent to the well. Mama, however, at least suspected that I would not be heart-broken by the penalty. When she told me what my punishment was to be, she reminded me that I was to speak to no one. As I left carrying the leather well bucket and balancing the water jar on my head, I heard her mumble under her breath, "Men are such fools."

I tried hard to look dejected as I headed for the well, but I'm sure that my inner excitement was reflected in my eyes. Simeon was always saying, "Dinah, if you intend to try to lie, you had better get a veil to cover those eyes. They're as big as pools and your every thought is reflected in their depths." Today I could feel them sparkle as I neared the well and recognized the girl approaching from the village. It was Sheerah. If I timed it so as to reach the line beside the well at the same time as she did, perhaps we could talk without it being obvious at the camp. Without turning I knew that Mama was watching to see that I obeyed her warning.

As our paths converged by the well, I spoke to Sheerah without turning my head.

"We can talk, but don't look at me. My mother is watching and if she thinks I'm conversing with you, I will be severely punished when I return."

Obeying my warning, Sheerah replied while staring straight ahead, "Why is that?"

"My Father has forbidden us to associate with your people, because you worship many gods. We worship the one supreme God, Yahweh." I responded.

"But we do not care whom you worship. We will not try to change you," Sheerah said sounding somewhat puzzled.

"I know, I answered. I am not afraid to associate with you, but I cannot blatantly disobey my Father. Perhaps we can devise a way for me to meet you later. If I am caught, I will be confined to the tent. You will never see me again."

With a sigh, Sheerah said, "Okay, talking this way is awkward, but it might be fun. Maybe we can outsmart your Papa. I always have liked challenges."

"Me too," I giggled. "Mama says one day it will be my undoing. I think she was born old?"

Our conversation continued as we waited our turn at the well. I explained to Sheerah that I would be returning to the well over and over again that morning because I had to fill every water skin in four tents.

"That's great," she enthused. "I will take my water jug home and then return to the well. If I sit on the other side in the shade, I won't be visible from your camp and we can talk while you fill the jar."

"It sounds like a good plan to me. I'll see you soon," I replied before I turned towards camp with a full jar of water.

When I returned to the well, there was no longer a line. The well appeared completely deserted. I wondered if Sheerah had been able to return. As I let down my bucket to draw water, I heard a voice from beyond the well say, "Well, could you see me from your camp?"

In relief I answered, "No. In fact, I was wondering if you were there."

I took my time filling the second jug. While I tarried we talked about our families. I learned that she had one brother and four stepbrothers, all older, and a younger sister. My family was much larger with six older brothers, three younger sisters, and five stepbrothers. Both of our mothers were one of several wives, but unlike mine, hers was the favored wife. We ended the conversation to be continued with the next jar of water.

Apparently the desolate look of the well had fooled even Mama, for she had quit making excuses to stay where she could watch the well. I told Sheerah when I returned, but we felt it prudent to continue our charade. We exchanged a great deal of information that morning concerning dress, jewelry, marriage customs and religion. We found we had common interests and personalities. She too had an insatiable desire for adventure. I considered telling her of my previous night's escapade, but for some reason felt reticence.

Late in the morning on my seventh or eighth trip to the well, I saw a young man standing near the well, apparently drinking. He was standing on the side of the well where Sheerah sat, so I supposed she had left. However as I drew near, I heard a voice hiss, "Go on, Shem. You can't stay here until she reaches the well." Even from a distance, the young man's impudent grin was evident. As I slowed and hesitated, his eyes slowly traveled from the jar on my head to my sandaled feet. Perceiving that I had just been undressed in public, I felt my skin flush. As I stood mesmerized, he gave a slight wave of his hand and turned heading toward the village gate.

As though sleep walking, I continued to the well and began to lower the bucket. Sheerah's voice reached me as though through a fog. "Ignore him, Dinah. It's only my brother Shem. His real name is Shechem, but we call him Shem.

"What was he doing here?" I asked, still feeling the impact of his insolent gaze.

"He's just a busy body. He wanted to know what I was doing sitting by the well in the heat of the day. He already knew the answer perfectly well because he's been standing outside the city gate for some time. He just likes to make my life miserable. Sometimes I wish I could strangle him," she ended.

"I know just what you mean," I responded. "My brothers often make me feel the same way." I continued, "I suppose he will be among the guests at the banquet tonight."

"Yes," she sighed. "I begged them to let me go, but they said, "Woman are merely ornamental and are not needed for a business discussion." Her tone changed. "Shem asked who you were and what we were doing. Perhaps he wants you as an ornament," she ended with a giggle.

Sheerah had to return home shortly, but before her departure we made plans to meet again. She indicated that in five days time it would be the big market day. The maids bought perishables at the market daily, but periodically other needed household purchases were made. On those occasions, Sheerah accompanied her mother to the market. She drew a map in the sand, showing the market in the center of the city down the path from the city gate. If I could sneak away when the sun was halfway toward the noon hour, she would meet me in front of a stall selling brightly embroidered girdles.

The drudgery of finishing to fill the water jars was eased by my thoughts. I alternately envisioned my market meeting with Sheerah and fantasized about an encounter with her handsome brother.

I couldn't shake the eerie feeling Shem had aroused when I saw him at the well. His smiling visage kept intruding on my thoughts. His dark eyes, set deep in a tanned face surrounded by long lush eyelashes, gave him an air of mystery, intrigue. The unruly mass of curls framing his face combined with that impish smile gave him a rakish look.

I had been so entranced by his mocking eyes, that I had only a vague impression of his build. I had a nebulous perception of height and a muscular slenderness reminiscent of a lithe cat. The last perhaps was provided by an active imagination spurred by those shrewd eyes. Whatever his real character, I imbued him with a dominant trait of observant intellect used to selfish ends. My intuition left me attracted but wary. Unfortunately, the latter emotion usually served as a goad to the reckless side of my nature.