Nevertheless, they lapped it, so burning was their thirst, and went mad, and came back to the town.

Then the people hunted them and killed them.
Now, it chanced that a mad dog from the Mukabar was being hunted to death on a day when Naomi, who had become accustomed to the tumult of the streets, had first ventured out in them alone, save for her goat, that went before her.

The goat was grown old, but it was still her constant companion and also it was now her guide and guardian, for the little dumb creature seemed to know that she was frail and helpless.

And so it was that she was crossing the Sok el Foki, a market of the town, and hearkening only to the patter of the feet of the goat going in front, when suddenly she heard a hundred footsteps hurrying towards her, with shouts and curses that were loud and deep.

She stood in fear on the spot where she was, and no eyes had she to see what happened next, and she had none save the goat to tell her.
But out of one of the dark arcades on the left, leading downward from the hill, the mad dog came running, before a multitude of men and boys.
And flying in its despair, it bit out wildly at whatever lay in its way, and Naomi, in her blindness, stood straight in front of it.