Esau, true to form, lasted only one day at well-digging, and then he was off with Nebajoth, one of Ishmael’s sons, on a hunting expedition into the rocky country south of Gerar. “We have meat,” said Rebekah. “We have enough meat to feed ten thousand. What we need is water. Will you find us water in the desert and bring it home to us on the backs of asses?”

“Father likes the venison I bring him,” said Esau. “He’s an old man. Don’t you think an old man should have things he likes?”

“He needs your help more than he needs venison.”

“He has servants,” said Esau. “But he has no deer in all his flocks and herds.” Then Esau laughed and went on his way.

Jacob saw it all, of course, and when Esau was gone said to his mother, “He thinks it’ll be like hunting in the hills near Kirjath-arba.”

“And it won’t be?” asked Rebekah.

“There are streams and pools in the mountains of Canaan. But south in the Negev there are no streams.”

“Why do you know this and he doesn’t?” asked Rebekah.

“Because I know everything the shepherds know, and the shepherds know that they can’t take a flock into the Negev and hope to bring back even half of them. The lions know where there are tiny shaded pools they can lap from, and so do the small deer and mountain goats they prey on. So there are always lions to take the sheep that don’t die of thirst.”

“Is your brother in danger?”

“In danger of coming home exhausted and empty-handed.”

“Of dying? Is it that bad?”

“Mother, Esau’s a good hunter. He’ll have the water he needs with him, and when he sees that he’s running low, he’ll come home. As for the lions—Esau will no doubt bring home a lion skin to show off. Even if he finds no deer, he’ll not come home without blood on his hands.”

“What about you?” asked Rebekah, suddenly curious.

“What about me?”

“Could you kill a lion?”

“I have killed lions, Mother. I’m a shepherd, and it’s a season of drought. The lions come down out of the mountains, following the game, and they’re following the water.”

“But you never bring home the skin. I never hear of your doing such things.”

“It would shame me in front of the other shepherds, to be caught bragging to my father and mother about doing what every shepherd does.”

“The other shepherds brag all the time.”

“They’re not the son of the patriarch,” said Jacob.

As long as she was asking, she might as well learn the rest. “What about in battle?”

“Against what foe?”

“The enemies we sometimes face. Raiders. Soldiers.”

“I don’t know. I’ve never fought against a man.”

“Oh.”

“Why are you asking such questions, Mother? Is there something you know about, that you haven’t told me? Is there a war coming?”

“No, I don’t—I hope not. I just wondered—because you’ve killed lions and I didn’t know it . . .”