He glanced from Dan to Gad, debating whether to stay with them or continue his search for Asher and Naphtali. They couldn’t have gone far. Or had they planned to go to the city or some other place all along?
He looked at Gad still sitting beneath a tree and occasionally looking at the animals. Frustrated, he looked back toward Dan, but he was no longer there. When Joseph came to the low rise in the field, he found no sign of Dan, and the goats were moving away from him. Where were they going?
Irritation spiked at the thought that they were purposely trying to avoid him or play some spiteful trick on him. To what end? What could they possibly be doing that they must keep secret?
He dug the staff into the dirt and hurried down the slight hill, shading his eyes to look in all directions. Had Dan known where Asher was and joined him there? They would weaken the herd and kill the young if they did not take care to go at the animals’ pace. They knew this. Every shepherd knew this.
After a lengthy jog, Joseph found the goats near a row of caves. Naphtali was there as well, but this time Dan was missing. Joseph closed his eyes, telling himself to remain calm. They were toying with him, trying to upset him. Obviously they did not want to include him as they once did. But why? Did they not care what their father would say to them when he heard of this?
Suddenly Joseph wished he were anywhere but here. He did not want to care for the flocks with these brothers, with any of his brothers. They refused to treat him as their equal, and while they might have tolerated him in his youth, they had grown more frustrating with each passing year.
He walked toward the caves in search of a place to escape when he heard laughter coming from within. Female laughter. He stood still, listening. The distinct voice of each brother interrupted what could only be a liaison with women.
Disgusted, Joseph returned to the goats and approached Naphtali. “Is this how you care for Father’s flocks and herds? By meeting with women and ignoring the animals?”
Naphtali shrugged. “What are you going to do about it? Run to Father and tell tales? We will deny what you say, so don’t trouble yourself.”
Naphtali waved him away as Asher had done, as though he were a troublesome gnat. Joseph looked him in the eye and then turned and walked off. He hated to disappoint his father, but watching his brothers was a waste of time. Surely there was something else he could do to help. Obviously he was not wanted here.
Of course, there was no way he could keep his brothers’ actions from his father. They would soon like him even less than they did now. But what else could he do?
“You slept with women in caves while you were supposed to be watching my sheep?” Jacob’s nostrils flared, and his voice rose so loud in the tent that Joseph was certain the whole camp could hear him.
Naphtali and Asher stood before their father, their heads bowed in proper respect. They did not even glance Joseph’s way.
“We were with the goats,” Asher said, his tone slightly sarcastic.
“That’s what I said,” Jacob bellowed. “You were supposed to be with the goats, but now I see that you paid no attention to them at all! You were hiding in a cave, sleeping with foreign women, ignoring my animals. They could have been attacked by lions in the forest or wandered off and gotten caught in the brambles. It is no wonder their skin is covered in scratches. If you had taken care of them all along, my flocks would be flawless, all capable of being offered as a sacrifice to the Lord my God. But you! You have done everything you can to ruin me!”
Joseph forced himself not to wince at his father’s vehemence, and he worried more for his father’s health than the animals in that moment. Veins showed in his father’s neck, and his face darkened with rage.
Naphtali and Asher took a step back, obviously shocked by their father’s harsh anger. They had taken their jobs as shepherds lightly, not caring that Jacob depended on these animals not only for milk, wool, and meat but to trade for things they could not make or grow themselves. Jacob’s wool and goat hair brought a high price when his sons weren’t mistreating his flocks.
“We are sorry, Father,” Naphtali said, ignoring Asher’s sullen expression.
“Sorry is not enough. You will listen to Joseph from now on. There will be no more staying away overnight with the flocks. I will expect an accounting daily, and I myself will inspect the animals you return to my folds. I will not have you making a mockery of me!” Jacob crossed his arms and leaned back against the cushions, his gaze moving from one son to the other. “Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Father,” they said in unison. They waited respectfully for Jacob’s dismissal, which quickly came. “See to it you start obeying me today.”
They said nothing more but merely nodded. Jacob waved his hand for them to leave, and they hurried from the tent. Joseph lingered, not sure whether to follow them to hear what they might say or to see if his father was going to be all right.
“Joseph, my son,” Jacob said, motioning him closer.
“Yes, my father.” He knelt at Jacob’s side.
“It was right for you to tell me these things. Your brothers should be punished, but I see no way to do so. I cannot lock them away somewhere, and I need them to do what they are supposed to do.” Jacob patted Joseph’s hand.
“It is all right, Father. I am glad your God allowed me to discover the problem before more of the animals were harmed or lost. Shall I go now and follow after them?”
Jacob nodded, his expression suddenly sorrowful, as if Joseph’s leaving brought him sadness. “Yes, go, my son. But come to me as soon as all of you return. Let us hope this evening’s report is better than last night’s.”
“Yes, let us hope so.” Joseph kissed his father’s cheek and left the tent.
2
ONE MONTH LATER
Joseph rose earlier than his usual time, before the sun had even crested the ridge of sky. He sat up, his eyes adjusting to the dark, and looked to where Benjamin still slept. Normally he would wait for him to awaken and Dinah to come for him, but today he could not lie still. He donned his tunic and robe and crept from the tent.
He walked from the circle of tents to the sheep pens, where his brother Judah slept near the gate. The brothers took turns keeping watch against enemies of any kind, be they human or animal. Sheep were often preyed upon, and a gate alone could not keep out those who sought to harm or steal.
At his approach, Judah stirred. He squinted up at Joseph and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Is it morning already?” He glanced at the sky, which barely showed the predawn grays.
“Not quite,” Joseph said softly. “I woke early and decided to join you.”
Judah made a grunting sound and laid his head back onto the ground. “Go back to bed where you belong.” With ten years between them, Judah had rarely taken kindly to Joseph. There had been a moment when Joseph’s mother died that Judah attempted kindness, but since they had moved to Mamre, all attempts at friendship with any of Leah’s sons had gotten Joseph nowhere. He was the favored, spoiled younger brother, and nothing he could do would shake the image they had of him.
Sometimes Reuben looked upon him with a hint of understanding, but perhaps that only came from his guilt for having slept with their father’s concubine Bilhah when they were camped at Bethel. Their father had never forgiven Reuben for his disdain and his blatant attempt to show himself the future head of the tribe once Jacob rested with his fathers. All he had done was cause a deeper rift between Leah’s and Rachel’s sons, namely Joseph, for no one seemed troubled by Benjamin. Not yet.