I was traveling to pay off one of Labyn’s debts to a townsman in another region, and I had already broken with my first wife and had some children with my second, as you all know. We had everything we owned in the world with us and were moving the flock without hurrying, as it was lambing time.
Labyn was feeble with age by this now, and I had the management of the entire household. I had the money for the debt; by then, I had plenty of money of my own and we were prosperous. It comes and it goes, life is uncertain and the Lord provides as he wills. I had just made the decision to move the flocks to the northeast, where the forage would soon come up by the lake and the mountains.
Then one of my helpers runs up to me and says, “Your brother …” He wheezed and coughed, out of breath. He recovered himself, and said, “Your brother and his band are nearing the opposite shore of this river. He seeks you wherever he goes. They haven’t seen us yet.”
“I can handle this. It will be all right,” I thought. We were planning to leave at first light the next day, and we could not travel with the flocks at night. He wouldn’t know where we’d gone. I was distressed, and I prayed. Sleep overtook me, and I had a dream. In this dream, a stranger with a bright face fought me, I grappled with him. He told me I must not run again, and told me to face my brother or I would surely die.
As the dream was finishing, the stranger struck me in my hip, dislocating it. While I still grasped him in the fight, neither could I throw him down. I awoke alone, in a sweat. And my hip hurt—I was hobbled. There would be no running this time.