The God of Israel was to be with them on the march, and old and young were alike impatient.
Early in April the life began to stir more briskly in the great camp that sprawled along either side of the swollen, muddy river.

From dawn to dark each day the hills echoed with the noise of many works, the streets were alive with men and women going and coming on endless errands, and with excited children playing at games inspired by the occasion.

Wagons were mended and loaded with provisions and tools, oxen shod, ox-bows renewed, guns put in order, bullets moulded, and the thousand details perfected of a migration so hazardous.

They were busy, noisy, excited, happy days.
At last, in the middle of April, the signs were seen to be right.

Grass grew and water ran, and their part, allotted by the Lord, was to brave the dangers of that forbidding land that lay under the western sun.
Then came a day of farewells and merry-making.