There he was, standing on a large knoll above the river's edge. He had a head of thick black hair that had not felt a razor in years. His body was lean. The veins looked like ropes attaching the limbs together with the muscular body. Coal black eyes expressed his determination of his mission. He wore animal hides and a leather belt with well-worn sandals on his feet. Many called him a 'desert madman', others, a 'desert prophet'. His voice was sharp and there was an air of urgency about him.
