Етюд у багряних тонах
On the great Alkali Plain.
“Iguesssheisnow,”theothercried,defiantly;“she’smine‘causeIsavedher. Nomanwilltakeherfromme. She’sLucyFerrierfromthisdayon. Whoareyou,though?”hecontinued,glancingwithcuriosityathisstalwart,sunburnedrescuers; “thereseemstobeapowerfullotofye.”
“Nighupontenthousand,”saidoneoftheyoungmen;“wearethepersecutedchildrenofGod—thechosenoftheAngelMerona.”
“Ineverheardtellonhim,”saidthewanderer. “Heappearstohavechosenafaircrowdofye.”
“Donotjestatthatwhichissacred,”saidtheothersternly. “Weareofthosewhobelieveinthosesacredwritings,drawninEgyptianlettersonplatesofbeatengold,whichwerehandeduntotheholyJosephSmithatPalmyra. WehavecomefromNauvoo,intheStateofIllinois,wherewehadfoundedourtemple. Wehavecometoseekarefugefromtheviolentmanandfromthegodless,eventhoughitbetheheartofthedesert.”
ThenameofNauvooevidentlyrecalledrecollectionstoJohnFerrier. “Isee,”hesaid,“youaretheMormons.”
“WearetheMormons,”answeredhiscompanionswithonevoice.
“Andwhereareyougoing?”
“Wedonotknow. ThehandofGodisleadingusunderthepersonofourProphet. Youmustcomebeforehim. Heshallsaywhatistobedonewithyou.”
Theyhadreachedthebaseofthehillbythistime,andweresurroundedbycrowdsofthepilgrims—pale-facedmeek-lookingwomen,stronglaughingchildren,andanxiousearnest-eyedmen.
