“We are looking for the Sambatyon River. Do you know where it is?”
The sun beat down on the three Jewish travelers. Birds of prey screeched and circled overhead. The sandy wasteland around them seemed as though it would go on forever.
Reb Yosef took out the flask of water that was tucked into the satchel hanging off the side of his camel. He opened it and peered inside.
“I don’t have so much water left in my flask…”
Reb Meir reached into his own pouch and took out his water supply.
Create a free account to keep reading.
