My heart was filled with a mixture of anger, pity, and terror. In
that mood of mixed feelings I parted from my parents.
We cried and cried, got tired, and finally became still from sheer
exhaustion. Presently a noise reached our ears, something like the
yelling of children. We thought it was another wagonload of boys
like ourselves. But soon we found out our mistake: it was but a
wagonload of sheep that were being taken to slaughter. . . .
Of course, we ate nothing the whole of that day, though the mothers
had not failed to provide us with food. Meanwhile the sun had set;
it got dark, and the boys who had been bound with ropes were
released by the guard: he knew they would not attempt to escape at
that time. We fell asleep, but every now and then one of the boys
would wake up, crying, quietly at first, then louder and louder.
Then another would join him; one more, and yet one more, till we all
were yelling in chorus, filling the night air with our bitter cries.
Even the guard could not stand it; he scolded us, and belabored us
with his whip. That crying of ours reminds me of what we read in
lamentations: "Weeping she hath wept in the night.
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