Free Signs and Wonders by Bernard Evslin Page A

seen came the second twin, all clean and unmarked. They called the first child Esau and the second one Jacob. And from the first sight of him Rebecca loved Jacob best. She tried to hide her feeling, but the thing was known.
    Esau grew into a hairy, merry young man, blazing with energy—a great hunter, a great meat eater, great in all his appetites. His brother, Jacob, was very different. Jacob was a quiet, reflective man, who tended his father’s herds. He learned about cattle from a master herdsman hired by Eleazer—an islander of the Inner Sea who had been shipwrecked on the shore of Canaan, a squat, sullen fellow who looked something like a bull himself and had knowledge beyond any man’s of bull and kine. Working with him, Jacob learned how to cull the herd of weaker stock, and he learned secret tricks of breeding to make cows drop certain kinds of calves. He also learned the best ways of pasturing and watering the herds and keeping them in health.
    Now, Isaac had become something of a glutton, and he loved Esau best because the lad brought him his kill, venison and wild boar. But Rebecca’s love for Jacob was as fresh as when he was at her breast, sucking less greedily than Esau.
    One evening Jacob was before his tent, boiling a pot of lentils over a fire of twigs. And Esau came in from the hunt, carrying a deer slung over his shoulders. He was ravenous, for it had been a long chase. Too hungry to wait until he had roasted the venison, he snatched the pot from the fire. But Jacob snatched it back and said: “It is mine.”
    “Brother, I want it,” cried Esau. “Let me eat the pottage, the red pottage, before I die of hunger!”
    “What will you give me for it?”
    “What do you want?”
    “Your birthright.”
    Now, birthright in those days meant all that the eldest son would inherit from his father by sole virtue of being firstborn. Its advantages were almost sacred. In rich families the firstborn son inherited wealth beyond the wealth of any of his brothers, not only flocks and herds, gold and silver, but possession of any high office the father held, and of the father’s interest in lease and treaty.
    Jacob had long chafed at the idea that he, born two seconds after his brother, would inherit less. Now he saw his chance.
    “If you want my pot of lentils you must sell me your birthright.”
    “Take it! Give me the pottage. What good is a birthright if I starve to death?”
    “Not so fast,” said Jacob. “Swear first.”
    “I swear, I swear,” said Esau, seizing the pot and swallowing the red lentils in one gulp. Then he ate a loaf of bread, drank some wine, and went away.
    Beersheba
    There was famine in the land, and Isaac prepared to go down into Egypt, where there was food. He inquired of the Lord concerning this.
    God answered, “Do not leave this land, for I have given it to you and your sons forever.”
    “The land is stricken, O Lord,” said Isaac. “My flocks are wasted because no grass grows. The grass has perished because no rain falls, and the wells are dry.”
    “Do not go into Egypt,” said the Lord. “Your son’s sons will go into Egypt and abide there in bitter servitude, and come forth again—but the time is not yet. Send your men to dig.”
    “My men dig deep into the earth and find no water,” said Isaac.
    “Send your men to dig again where they have dug. Let them return to the southern plain, to the dry wells, and dig again. I am the Lord. My footfall is thunder, my frown is famine. Shall not fountains gush at my pleasure?”
    Isaac sent his herdsmen south. They grumbled, saying, “The earth is dry as stone there. Our master grows old, and his wits are enfeebled.”
    But Isaac rode with them, harrying them day and night, until they reached the dry wells. “Dig here,” said Isaac.
    “To what purpose?” said the chief herdsman. “Hearken. I drop a stone and you hear it rattling against the stones at the bottom.”
    “Here you shall dig,” said Isaac. “The Lord has