“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.
“You can have some of mine, Reb Yosef.”
Reb Yosef smiled weakly and began to discuss a famous question in the Gemara.
“Ah, two Jews and only enough water for one of them. If they share, both will perish. If only one drinks the water, then at least he will survive. What’s the halachah?”
Their voices began to rise excitedly as they delved into the depths of the sweet waters of Torah. They argued back and forth, forgetting the oppressive heat and their uncomfortable saddles.
Suddenly, a man appeared in the distance. He was riding a horse and he had a turban wrapped tightly around his face.
Was the stranger a friend or foe?
When they came closer to the man, he removed his hood and tried communicating with them. It was impossible to understand a single word he was saying.
Reb Meir raised his voice above the heavy winds that had started to blow across the land.
“We are looking for the Sambatyon River. Do you know where it is?”
The man’s eyes grew wide.
“Sambatyon?”
“Yes, yes!”
The man raised his hands and began motioning wildly.
“The river that flows very fast, precisely! We need to get there. Can you take us?”
Somehow the man understood and he nodded.
Reb Baruch looked overhead and saw the sun dipping in the afternoon sky. Nightfall was not too far away. He turned to the man.
“How far?”
The man just smiled and motioned for them to follow him.
**********
Across the endless wasteland they traveled, panting and groaning as the man led them through the mountains on a path that twisted constantly. The road soon became too rocky for their camels to traverse and they were forced to leave them behind under a rocky cliff and continue on foot.
Reb Yosef stumbled at the back of the group and fell onto a cluster of boulders. He groaned as Reb Meir and Reb Baruch grasped his arms and pulled him to his feet.
“My friends, how do we know we can trust this man?”
Reb Meir’s face seemed to glow as he spoke.
“We’re going the right way.”
“How can we be sure? Perhaps he is plotting to murder us soon and take our possessions?”
“No, the river is close. Hashem’s yeshuah is at hand, you will see.”
As they were rounding another bend in the mountain, they heard a tumultuous sound in the distant. It was the sound of a raging river.
